When you make a
Chili dog you never
Forget to slice the onion
Into translucent white
Slices and make sure
Your mustard is dotted
With brown flecks

Make sure you have a tall
Frosty beer the color of
October sunsets
Lay back in a chair
And kick your feet up
For me

When your song comes
On your headphones
Dance like a chimpanzee
Amongst Ikea furniture for me

Don't think of me
When the sky is stained
Pink orange and aqua
Think of something better
Something that is real
Something whole
That doesn't want what
Everyone else wants it
To want

When you stand next to
My coffin
Throw an orchid for me
Or whatever flower is
Cheapest because honestly
I don't know what you're
Throwing

Make sure the soil is
Heavy and wet
Make it clump over the
Cross I didn't want
On the top of my
Pine box

Make sure you think about
How roots and grass
Will grow through me
Eat me and grow
Without a thought

If nature ceased to
Persevere
Humanity would be
Absurd in its
Reckless building
Destroying and poisoning

When you look at my
Pine box think about
Repetition and death
Think about moments
Of brilliance and the years
That beat them back
Remember that hollowness
Is its own form of substance

Most importantly
Remember that a chili dog
Needs onions
And that one day
Your corpse
No matter where it lays
Will fertilize future life

And the circle eats its own tail
Its own tail
Its own tale

Surrender your meager twitching
To the echoing riff of the complete
Watch yourself dissolve
Into the void's cast shadow
Let your panic be snuffed
By the beating of bees wings
And the sorrowful violin
Of crickets legs
At dusk

Why should I entomb my hatchet
     after so much toil in the honing?
After all its blade excels alls measures
     for heft and keenness
and no finer tool can be had
     to strike the ultimate blow -
except perhaps the one you're holding.

So here we stand my friend
     ensnared by pride's inertia
with everything to lose
     but one or another's demise
within our imminent grasp.

Then without a sign or preamble,
     our eyes meet as if by chance
and in that unsought instant,
      the shame of forgiveness
saps our strength and sinew.
     Our weapons clang to the pavement.

Unless we're history's fools
     we know it seldom ends this way.
How much must we sacrifice
     before the worst we have been
can give up its sorry shade
     to the best our souls demand?

The world may find you left behind,
is not all that it seemed.
These fancies found may be bound,
by all that could be dreamed.
For the more you hide the dark inside,
the more you start to rot.
Your mind takes hold and heart runs cold,
for all you've loved, forgot.

the lilac colors pour from your sadden heart
for you are longing to create art
something you can transfer your sadness onto
so you no longer have to carry it

you use your tongue to speak the words that your feelings write for you
for your pain is scripted by the ones who hurt you
you dont have to memorize any lines
they've always been imprinted inside of your mind

the art you created hangs off your chest for everyone to see
you display it proudly, wanting people to know that you did this
but yet you dont think proudly of yourself, you never do
you created this art from the things that hurt you most
something you always wanted to do
but...

why cant you manage a smile?

Sitting in a dingy shed
with dust covered chairs.
My clothes sticking to my skin
from hot humid air.
The smoke swirls around the room dancing,
against the black night.
Creating memories I cannot forget,
hoping we will be alright.