beyond Montana’s yellow lines
there is a field
~a field of painted soles
     and laces rubber tread
~a field of ****** curls
     and fallen headlights
where kaleidoscope lenses
look onto twisted frames          like origami halos
where teddy bears hug stop signs like pickets
     fringed in anger
          runaway childhoods sleep cautionary tales
  
beyond Montana’s blushing acne
there are red cup melodies
     blasting from blacked out tints
          weaving blues notes through Rock & Rap
distant cries are drowned by Bass
     or maybe Bud (light)
a haze of teenage eyes
they might as well be ghost riders
whip game copped from GTA
these pubescents are a Vice to their City
blooming sidewalk sloths
like flowerbeds

beyond Montana
is a country of bar stools
   where bar tenders play therapists
        and therapists play coroners
precedents are shots of whiskey - taken to the head
and reflected in flooded eyes

beyond Montana
is a country of MADD mothers and SADD students
beyond Montana
is a country of unexpecting pedestrians
beyond Montana
is a field
~a field of wing-clipped snow angels

That field is Mariah's home now
and she challenges you to change
   yourself
        your friends
             your country
she challenges you to
**STOP DRUNK DRIVING

i stand before you, a ball of clay
malleable and warm
waiting for hands and fire
to pinch and pull
to preserve and protect
each imperfection molded
my forever form created by yours

Yesternight, I drank much ***.
Suffice to say, it was much fun.
But today I pay the awful price,
Of a dented wallet, and swollen eyes.

You're a robot, mechanical heart and
mechanical brain and mechanical soul. Nothing
about you is alive. You live to destroy
me and turn my heart to rust.

My veins crumble under the pileup of
what you say I must be and I can't
understand my own thoughts
anymore.

What do you think I am?
What you say is what I must be.
What else am I living for?

I.
Sirens ring out as warnings
amongst the patients of the ward.
Now the world will end in a firey
apocalypse. They've found me out
for the bad I am and now I must
suffer. I walk from room to room
looking for the grim reaper;
a nurse finds me
and tells me that the fire alarm
will be shut off soon.

II.
God is bringing me warnings
to never visit this place again.
She's an old lady and has been here
for a long time. The apocalypse
is coming sooner than I thought.

This gun to the temple of my dome
I am faced with a single question
Should I shoot?
Or let fly the words just uttered?
The mouth of the devil’s minion lies open
nagging
     and picking
picking
     and nagging
          at a lost cause - a deaf cause
And Yet
     it feels
          it angers
               it rages
no longer containable
     it erupts
no clip for a gun
only bullets of air
air of truth
                                                           ­                  and so
                                                              ­             I choose
                                                          ­        and before I think
                                                      TR­IGGER
a crescendo of cacophony

HATE

A tear falls. The truth escapes. A jaw drops.
she did it to herself
all those years of nonstop badgering
she did it to herself
all those years of hypocrisy and disrespect
she did it to herself
blood flows from her eyes for my pleasure
a stream of emotion dammed by emptiness

she did it to herself