You chugged down a pint of stout
Reason running in and out
Your friends cheering you on
Until all reason is completely gone
   In a moment of uncertainty
   You poise the possibility
   Of ordering another pint of that hilarity
You get another one and a shot
You feel your head spins and you're hot
You're being cheered on by your friend-squad
Reason's leaving, but you're not
   The evening just began
   And you feel a certain urge to dance
   Then that concludes
   You get the pint again
   And the reason still eludes

I burned our
old photographs,
it fell down
like dried leaves
in the autumn
The classic
gallery of our
love that was
once fascinating
became a
tedious one
The once white
walls and
clean corners
Are now dusty
and dark
The perfectly
carved frames,
and perfect
shots
became dull
and lifeless
You left me
knowing that
I won't survive
alone inside this
***** walls
Picture me
in your mind
And you'll see
the saddest photo
there will ever be

She
Counts
Her shots
With sharpie
On her arm, tick tick
The alcohol swirls inside her.
It can **** you, you know that, if you keep taking them.

She
Waits,
Ignores.
Breathes in smoke.
The substances coursing
Through her veins. The two, a yin-yang
Teasing each other, now giving balance to her world.

Feel
Your
Burning
Cheeks flushing
Under the dim lights.
Are you still counting them tonight?
What are you trying to escape from? Him? Or yourself?

MY build to suit mind is designed for disappointing,
a warehouse space of dim lights, taunted by an l.e.d. retrofit,
TREPIDATIOUS, unable to sign my life's lease to own,
YEARS spoiled like produce, a dumpster gratefully digests.
I was 7, a little league southpaw, my arm, accurate on the mound.
PRACTICE of carelessly skipping stones over invulnerable ponds.
that day, the equation was misaligned, numbers squared roots and
CAUSED the answer to spawn seismic ripples of infinite affects.
it was the split second that was carelessly skipped and
THIS boy's vulnerable retina, the invulnerable pond.
although I was the expert marksman, I begged William not to Tell,
SO he blindly obliged my apple-shot withdraw request,
NOW spoiled produce my dumpster won't gratefully digest.
WHAT i regret most is not saying, William. Tell.

The Game…by Jessie 4/06


Jessie was a quick draw; Learned when he was young
Swore he’d never fear a man, first he’d touched a gun
Made his name, by the age of twelve
After shooting two old men
One of them his father
The other just for grins
Every time he shot a man
Another notch, was on his belt
Swift and deadly vengeance
The quick draw Jessie dealt
At sixteen, his gun for hire
Money did he make
Town to town he traveled
Dead bodies in his wake
At twenty two his name, was on every gunmen’s lips
They tracked down Jessie, relentlessly
Guns tied low on all their hips
Knowing if they killed him
His reputation theirs
Jessie faced them one by one
Come and **** me if you dare
By thirty-three, he grew weary
Of all the blood he shed
Seeing all the faces that ****
Crowed in his head
He swore he’d never **** again
Hanging up his guns
South across the Rio Grand
To the land of the setting sun
Life had changed for Jessie
A farmer he became
Getting marred, having kids
Peace was now the game
But just because you run
Doesn’t mean that you can hide
A sixteen year old came into town
A gun hanging on his side
Are you Jessie? The boy asked
It’s time for you to die
Boy…do yourself a favor
Get on your horse and ride
I’m the fastest gun around
The boy made the claim
You killed my father years ago
To you I’ll do the same
Jessie put down his little boy
And pushed away his wife
Stepped out into the street
Then said…go ahead and take my life
I have no gun, so take your shot
You’re sure to have your ****
Seventeen years from now
You too will lose your will
Jessie words just fell
Then, an echo from a shot was heard
Time had stopped, no one had blinked
Nothing even stirred
Jessie’s son had found his gun
Soon, came running back
Stood behind the sixteen year old
And shot him in the back
A thud was heard as the boy fell
His face lay in the sand
Blood was pouring out of his mouth
Twitching from his hands
Jessie looked right at his son
He didn’t look the same
Holding out that smoking gun
Now, he too was in the game.