The toils of my hands,
The marks of my work,
I’m meant to find pleasure in these

Solomon’s words,
Gentle and stern,
Have genuinly provoked me

250 gals and one old guy
Lusting after me and I know why.
I am a Congressman,
I am a Republican,
And they know what that means.
It means big money in my jeans.
Big money for partying hardy
And if the ****** are smarties
They will kiss a lot of fat ***
And never rebuff a single pass
Made at them, no matter how rudely.
They will see it as their womanly duty
To make me feel that I am great
And lick on my head of state
If so ordered, and quickly,
Even if it makes them sickly
Because I am a Congressman,
And also, I am a Republican.
As such, I am special and divine
So there is no societal line
That I should not ever cross
Because I am now the boss
And you people that voted for me
Are the biggest fools in history.

garage tools
orbital sander sanding away
big it up for the orbital sander
getting sand on now now now
hear the orbital sander sand away

orbital sander
orbital sander
orbital sander
sand sand sand!

like his mate the orbital grinder
give it a good grind
grind away on the go
watch that baby grind away

orbital grinder
orbital grinder
orbital grinder
grind grind grind!

hydraulic ramp going up and down
no car is too heavy
fantastic hydraulics
touch of a button up down up down

hydraulic ramp
hydraulic ramp
hydraulic ramp
lift lift lift!

laser gig perfectly aligned
laser beam on target
crash damage repair perfection
laser accuracy beyond compare

laser gig
laser gig
laser gig
laser laser laser!

boss is doing a ******* eppy
the tech is too reliable
he bosses and bullies
his young apprentices about

sweep the floor
male the brews
fetch the butties
you ****** slaves
boss boss boss!

Be careful little one what you speak
It can make mountains crumble and empower the weak
Be vigilant of your tongue and practice control
For words have the power to pierce the soul
For good or ill they may be used
And poor judgement finds us accused
But my dear words are so much more than pain
In the desert place they can be as life giving rain
They may paint a beautiful story reveal mystery untold
They can take a person so shy to be brave and bold
They can dance across the mind and page
They can calm a soul and seas and wind that rage
They can love and laugh they can forget and forgive
They have given sight to the blind and made the dead live
Words are as tools. They can be used for building up or breaking down
They can put a smile on someone's face and turn their day around
Or they can hurt someone and cause bitterness and sorrow
Try to make it right before today becomes tomorrow
You see words are many things to many people
They come in all shapes and sizes and in a way
Sometimes I find words in a church with a steeple
Other times I just listen and write what I feel God say
I'm not perfect I know and I've a long way to go
But I try to be wise and speak truth to be kind and not uncouth
So please forgive me my lapse of good sense
And know that I learned from my error hence

i imagine that you're dead. i imagine that you're laying in a ditch, rotting. it's just easier that way. it's easier for me to believe you've died than to face the harsh reality that you're never coming back. you're gone. if i was honest with myself, i'd stop imagining and notice the new people in your life. how you tense up when i see you because now i write poetry and drink tea and hate myself. we used to do that together, hate ourselves. we used to fit, nail and hammer. at one point, you couldn't push me down further so you left. you became a ***** driver, ******* me over, ******* others over, until there's nothing i can do to help. i don't tell my therapist this. how i've stopped becoming a nail and become someone different. reading poems that don't rhyme anymore because they fit  too well together. i've become a *****. i keep other people together while they ***** me over. i look for broke people and fix them before i fix myself because i'll probably always be like this, this tool for people to use until i stop working or break, but at least they're a little more together than before they met me. i wish i could be honest and tell myself you aren't ever going to change, and blame me for leaving. I wish I could, but i can't.

Breaker Bar

Every now and then I get the itch to lift
The simple slender breaker bar in my hands
Snap a socket on the square pivot fitting

And go hunting for a big fat frozen bolt
One that hasn’t budged in ages, rust bound
Threads that yearn to give held fast by a split

Spiral washer, tense marriage of wedge
To pent up tension for no other reason
Than to feel the sheer unbridled joy

That comes from applying Archimedes
Law of the Lever, poised to deliver
A stunning verdict proclaimed with a sharp

Dry crack that travels through my hands  
My arms to light up some forgotten
Constellation in a dark and dusty

corner of my brain, closing a circuit
That began with the simple slender
Breaker bar, bequeathed but rarely wielded

A conjure stick to summon you back to
Throw your weight around, tip the scales in my
Favor, balanced absurdly here on the business end.

I created the tools.

I carved the stone and strung the bow.

I tracked the animal’s prints

across fresh snow.

I took careful aim,

steady, steady,

and then let go.

I brought you meat,

the liver & the heart,

and yet you

feast on

crumbs.