I catch the moths between my fingers,
and linger as their bodies
and my shameless slaughter
are both washed down by
warm water.

Not yet suffocated by my hands
sometimes they still flutter
but they'll be dead before
the taking of bread and butter.

"My record is three today",
I say to her so she'll pray.

I will find you
when you are broken like beer bottles in parking lots;
collect the pieces
so the neighborhood children
don't marr their bare feet.
We will walk along the highway,
on the grass-cracked sidewalk
until it is no more.
And then I will spread you
like ashes
because I could never bear to
bury you.

I look at you
and your **** American family,
I wish I could wave a flag
and mindless believe
for just a moment.
Today and tomorrow
and all the days before,
I'll wait with the ghosts
of the civil war.
I can tell you your history--
founding fathers to your own
but what does that matter
when my very own dad
left me alone.
Pop culture don't matter,
they say with a huff,
but that's all they talk about these days
enough is enough.
Culture culture culture,
that's all I am good for
it overpowers all that I am
like the world after rain.
Today and all days,
I am torn between passion
and blood.
You can laugh and smile,
but my minor school book awards,
give me reason sometimes.
It's just the way I was raised.
I hate the idea of you
and your perfect American family.

Yet how can I love something so foreign,
so far from myself?

Idle prattle left behind on the linoleum,
we walk in silence.
Sometimes in the humming dinn of the radio,
I mouth words
hoping you'll hear.
But that's all we've become.

Perhaps the best form kind of kindness,
is not the ever present
support of friends
and kind words of parents
or even the sweet words of a lover.
But rather the simple
true thoughtfulness of
an aquaintance.
Allow me to hold open doors
and smile at strangers
and leave flowers on graves
because the best is
unexpected.

I think you cryptic, think you wise.
Perhaps in that is our demise.
A sophomore in the bloom of youth
to you I speak, with words uncouth.
Apologize f'r my deplorable acts:
my unkind gestures, my lack of tact.
Intentions mean well, I want nothing but good
Show me atonement, and I'll do as I should.
Dear acquaintance, not friend nor foe,
I'd like to continue, I hope you don't go.

Remove me from existence, please.
I no longer wish to be.
There is a pleading melody.
That I would like to flee.

And as the buzz of people,
Draw so near and far.
I putter down the county road,
In my little car.

I gaze upon the cattle,
The sparkling city lights.
I ponder upon sleeping pills,
I begin to see blank white.

Perhaps I may have overdosed,
A mistake I should not make.
I cannot hear his mutterings,
And I do not partake.

Like stepping on intangibles,
Or eating blanketed air,
I cannot hear the inaudible,
love what is not there.

And as I creep into a room,
Filled with dust and fear,
A bit of nostalgia,
Falls into my ear.

It dances to my brain, you see.
And then into my heart.
It is a terrible sin,
missing such a part.

Like a robot armless,
Or a flightless dove,
I want simplicity and untruth,
Human and God above.