Here's a light.

No I don't smoke.

See that house?

No I don't home.

We're going in.

I don't know.

Come on all your friends are in there.

I don't care.

See the big one? He's loving on your girl.

Not my girl.

We'll jump the gate, nobody will know.

Not my girl.

Everyone will be excited to see you.

Not my girl.

Well what do you care!

Not invited.

So ******* polite all the time.

Not polite.

Ok stay here.

No I want in.

Ok well let's go.

Wait.

WHAT?!

How do you know?

What?

That he loves her?

I can see him through the window, getting touchy feely.

But she doesn't love him.

She looks like she's enjoying herself.

It tears him up inside.

He probably wants to do that to her.

He wishes he were me.

Why?

Because it doesn't tear me up inside.

That she doesn't love you?

...


Don't know.

Well?

Don't care.

It doesn't hurt you even a little?

Doesn't belong.

What, you?

No, her.

Doesn't belong where?

To me.

And you don't care?

I don't possess.

And he wants to possess.

And he suffers.

I see.

Yes.

So?

Yes.

Let's go in there.

No.

Why not?!

I can't stand to see it.

See she does get to you!

No.

Well what then?

Him.

Him?

Yes.

What about him?

He suffers.

Yeah? And?

I can't stand to see it.

...

Oh.

Yes.

Well.

Yes.

Ok...well I'm going in.

I'll be here.

I hear a series of loud buses taking people across a bridge.
Taking people home.
Taking people to work.

People I don't know.
People I won't ever know.

Shrugging off the tired.

Riding the bus again.


Until the Ghostman screams.

He screams a ****** hellish sound.
And all the buses suddenly break down.
And all the people quickly file off.
And huddle together in fear.
Touching each other for the first time.
Holding each other like newborns.
Forgetting the past, and the future.

People I will never touch.

They calm down and start to talk.
What was that? Who are you?
What am I? Where are we?

Questions I will always ask.

They get back on the buses and go about their days.

They get off at their stops and part ways.

But the Ghostman knows...

He knows they will never forget...

Those people they were with...

When he sang his same old song.


A song I will always be singing:

I am the Ghostman can't you see?
Floating around so (s)carelessly
Get off your buses and settle on down
Everybody's coming from a different part of town
And everybody's going to end up the same way
A ghost like me with nothing else to say,
But "GET OFF YOUR ******* CELL PHONES, LOOK YOUR NEIGHBOR IN THE EYE AND SAY I LOVE YOU, YOU DISSOCIATIVE LITTLE *****."

The End

i don't watch home movies
hate them
reason being because
when i was young
i was looking for a movie
my mother
had recorded for me
and accidentally
put one in the vcr
that i'm not sure
i was supposed to see
i know the obvious response
"uh oh, ****"
sorry to disappoint
they were only marked with dates
  1991
on live television
montel williams asks my father
"how can you just throw
your child away like a piece of trash?"
   1994
i spend so much time
in the emergency room
that my parents stop
penciling in growth marks
on the frame
of my bedroom door
i always thought
it was because they believed
i would never grow out
of this sickness
sometimes i believe
the reason that they
never bought me a dream catcher
was because they never thought
i'd live long enough
to see them come true
   1996
i am eliminated
from a spelling bee
because i didn't know
the 'dad' is silent in 'family'
   2013
before i got into poetry
i used to do standup
none of my jokes were funny
one of the other comics
tells me my skits are dry
sometimes sad
he says "why don't you joke
about something like your family?"
so i say
"i never wore any sunblock
because i didn't want anything
to keep me from my father"
i say "what do you call christmas
without lights or heat?"
before he has a chance
to answer
i say "1997. better yet
why don't you
make like a dad and
leave"
   2014
every time we drive
past the hospital
my mother reminds me
how much it cost to save my life
like she'd rather
have her money back
she doesn't have to say
that sometimes she wishes
it was me who had died
instead of my brother
i can hear it in the way
she says "love you"
sometimes i imagine
that if i were to die
that she
would pick out a casket for a child
because she never loved
the person i became
yesterday i told my father
how close i'd been
to suicide lately
and he said
"that's my boy,
livin on the edge.."
and i can't remember
if i laughed
or cried

With all I've seen and all I know
I should be like a willow now
Yet still I wish, and still I pray
To leave my roots and sail away

Oh friends of mine who taught me kin
I long to see you once again
But I did leave and you did stay
When once I chose to sail away

I should have sailed home to you
Instead I went to start anew
And all the homes where I did stay
Forgot me in the brand new day
When I left them to sail away

Oh love of mine who taught me pain
I wish to see your face again
But you are in the spacious plains
The endless fields of grass and hay
Where we begin and fade away
I'll think of you and sail away

Gone.
I think...
Used to be right here.
I swear...
Let me check in the back,
Like lungs on shredded feet.
The rocking chair,
Nervous air still swings
...temporarily discarded, that's all.
On the couch cushion,
Here's his book of adventures
The laughter is unmistakable.
Yes I remember the sounds,
Have I seen?
Can I get you anything?
Of course I'm happy to help.
DON'T SIT THERE, that's an antique-
Enjoy the still air, untouched-
No, it's no worry, come on in
The one holding his kitten tight.
Who wanted to save the princess?
Where is the boy in this photograph?

Writing the body. So the mind can rest.

All this...religion. The temple of self. The ego love. The largest love of all.
Seize.
Behold.
My massive, incomparable grief.

For a body.

For your mind haunts, and stalks my ego. Staying all night in window.
Relishing my grasp, my reach, my longest arm.
Strong. It holds on beyond the grave.
To your flickering mind.
Wick burning down.
Slow. It releases from my hand.
And falls to the floor.
Enveloping the room. The house. The woods. The world. The ego.

From space, the ego looks blue. Holding breath.
Purging lungs. No air, none of that, stay away please.
We don't need air we need love.
Seas.
Turn red.
Like glass, stained with the salt.

From my body.

Nothing is left. So much nothing. Nothing everywhere.
Not even candlelight can warm. No need.
No need.
None.
One last violent spasm? For old times sake?
Please.
Come back.
And kiss me one last time.

Then...stop.
Calm down.
Just rest.
In this.
This is.
It is.
All this.
This all.
This is it.
All this is.
It.
Is.
All.

Sleep.

Me too.

No me.

All.


Sleep.










Love.

After the bombing

When you walk through the



rubble of the theatre




see the dancers
splayed corpses


still in costume

stained with blood


frozen forever                                                                   a
                                    in


graceful
                        pirouette