i see the flyer at starbucks

"are you caucasian?
without mental health
and drug problems?"

wow
i don’t know the answer to any of these questions
is a jew a caucasian?
is the occasional naked, ****-slamming drunken rampage
a drug problem?
as for mental health
i’m a deadbeat poet and unpopular pop musician
i’ve got a job fighting death and boredom
and i just changed my facebook password to "eat ****"
my frustrations have driven weaker souls to homicide
but are these PROBLEMS?

Sleeping in the conifers,
I stumbled on a rose.
Since trodden only yesterday,
Now carefully she grows.
Outstanding, still, the lilies in
The garden she forgoes.

I offered her my hand and knelt
To mend the earth and stone.
But gardener she needed none.
No meal. No collarbone.
And so I sang a quiet song,
And pat back down the loam.

O Spring when you, by skillful hand,
Affirm what I opined,
Awake me in the forest land,
That blushing rose to find.
By day I'll search the cedars and
By night the yews, the pines.

These days
I run my hands
along brick walls
so I don’t leave fingerprints
on your skin

I look up at the sky and see the moon,
Shining bright, like a lonely balloon.
The stars try to convince the moon to be happy.
But the moon’s salty tears slowly fill up the sea.

ashes, ashes we all fall down.
i’ve come to take back my crown.
ashes, ashes, you shall fall down.
i will destroy this town.
ashes fall with us.
can’t you feel the rush?
the ashes fall.
it’s time for your call.
ashes, ashes we will fall down.
ashes, ashes, no more ground.
falling into ashes.
we all have our gashes.
now I breath in.
the sky grows dim.
ashes, ashes, we all fall down.