i'm a lot like
one of those books that
you don't like until the
fourth chapter or so.

but i swear that if you
will just stick with me somewhere
along the way you'll
realize i'm not so bad after all.

I remember when all our guns were sticks
I remember when pine cones were grenades
I remember when we always got back up
And war was just a game we played

it doesn't have to be
perfect.

you're cutting demos
not diamonds.

i'm creating paragraphs
not parachutes.

she's drawing pictures
not pistols.

he's constructing bookshelves
not buildings.

we're making differences
not disasters.

we don't have to be
perfect
to be
poets.

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

You enjoy the frivolous but cant take the serious

Reality will hurt when you dress life in a pink floral shirt

Leave the jokes to the jokers

Leave space and time to the smokers

Let the economy feed the capitalist

Let the evangelist preach like a ******

Write with your heart

Write to gather a new start

Let the dark sordid truth rise and shine

Stop working the world out with a bottle of wine

A painting
that evokes
either
claustrophobia
or comfort.

i keep looking
for a trace of
myself
in your art

because
my poetry
is
entirely
made of
you.

but
i suppose
i loved
&
lost

whereas
you
gained
&
gained
&
gained.