In grade school
they told me
not to pursue music
because I was
so lousy at it,
so, just to show them,
I proceeded
to study music
for about
a thousand years,
and I came up
with a kind of music
which is so intentionally wrong
that it is perfect,
except not many people
seem to think so,
since I get
about three listens
to each song,
so I'm not exactly
a hit,
if you know
what I mean,
but, you know,
I think
I'm some kind
of genius Mozart
or something,
of course
maybe not.

In my sleep
last night,
someone was talking
to me,
I think,
so I woke up
with knowledge
about the right way
to wake up,
and it's so simple
that an idiot knows it,
but the world
and all the Great Religions
don't teach it,
so here it is -
wake up gradually.
Duh.
So I opened my eyes
and got out of bed
and sat for awhile
then moved slowly
for awhile
and then sped it up
a little at a time
until I was moving
at everyday life speed.
Duh.
That is the right way to wake up.
Now we're cookin'!

i fell
last week
onto
concrete
craked ribs i think
either way
sore
oh how i
swore

I remember the exact moment we met,
You told me my blue eyes matched  my dress
And with blood taking hostage of my cheeks,
I made fun of your German name.

Yes, I can remember
the first time I snuck home to our bed, guiltily
lifting the feather comforter we spent hours picking out
in Bed Bath and Beyond.
A blanket that now weighed as much as a semi truck
crushed around your sleeping body.

Lying beside you, no dreams came
to relieve me from my reprehensible  thoughts.
But it became easier. So easy, that one night
I didn’t feel a thing when I slid under those weightless covers,
Kissing you goodnight, mumbling something
about ******* coming in late.

I remember the exact moment we met.
His black rimmed glasses and off balance smile
As he handed me a cup of jungle juice in a dim, packed house.
His compliments felt all wrong,
Like they should have been coming out of your mouth
But I drank them in
faster than the jungle juice in my ***** plastic cup.

Your face
the day you walked into our room,
that’s what I remember, and wish I could forget, most of all.
I’d coached myself for this moment a so many times
I guess I  never thought it would actually come.
I don’t know what was worse, the lies
falling from my mouth, or you believing them
because you believed so much in me.

I walk along the path of you and me
And find what once we carved'n mahogany
So small and deep that only I can see
What's ours among the lies an'disloyalty.
The tree he stands, weathered, washed up, and strong;
A testament to love so young n'impure -
Each dent is proof of lust declared for long
By youth enamored far err they grow, mature.
Ours too, is there, cut deep into the bark.
The 'L . plus J.' hidden among the many,
whose hopeless love required assurance - that mark
to keep their ferv'r from fall to worth a-penny
       But hark, my dear, I hope our mark does fade
       For ours, in heart, trumps any a-tree has made.

I
inhale
a deep breath
not sure
which words
it will carry out

your voice a sweet
          ripe
          be-
          cause
every morning in my
          stomach left
          gravel-
          like
coffee-stained tongues,
          rolling from tips  
          like peach pits -
          devoured
slowstickysweet, the
          center
          of each
          earthy
          peach.