I'm stuck singing the whiskey blues
left in the apartment
feeling the looseness overtake
feeling the who cares
coming to the front
feeling the love yous
aching deep

The whiskey blues,
nothing better
nothing worse
for a hungry soul
hungry for
soulful hunger
and a sense
of the poison

The whiskey blues
left singing
tunes of a time
which never graced
my presence
Left looking at pictures
which rock the idealist
sensibilities which dominate
my gut

The whiskey blues
you better believe
that I'll be thinkin'
of you
fluttering through the tunnels
of my sleep deprived brain

The whiskey blues
just another excuse
to express
my thoughts of you

because we fell in love with the law
and fell out of love with ourselves.

because the ***** of great minds
wear pineapple fatigues in their fathers’ *******;

from Judas swallowing 9 bullets
to one day being a kid at heart
a symptom of some abnormality.

Ever get the feeling that you’ll die on a Tuesday?

Or one day wake up on their government bed
Screaming,
“you can blame the French Revolution
On silent reading!”

watching

as three teacups of *** plan war on the asphalt.

There was this girl,
she consumed him
so completely
that he loathed her
he loathed her
because he knew
he could never actually loathe her
even if she set fire to apartment
while he was sleeping in it
he want to an addict meeting
the circular discussion
fell on him
HI,
My name is blah blah
and I have a girl problem

"Do you like me?"
the words took courage
courage which would go unnoticed
"Not really, that's why we're so good"
words cushioned by a teasing smile
it was that same **** smile
which chased her dreams
all night long,
"You're bad"
"I'm certainly not good"
"You're nothing but a quick tongue,
aren't you?"
it made him laugh
"I'm hurt you didn't mention
my killer ***"
she had to admit,
it wasn't too shabby
"I think you love me."
"I love pizza,
but let's not get into that"
she looked cute
colored by the flush of frustration
"God, you're an ***"
"You wouldn't have it any other way"
"You wouldn't let me"
"No,
No I suppose I wouldn't"
they stood awash in a comfortable silence
she wished he would agree with her
he wished that he could
he knew that he did
"What do you want
to love me for anyway?
You are leaving again
after the summer"
"So what?"
"So that."
she was a ball of energy
and he wanted to take her in
and feed off of her,
wanted to keep her fire going
yet he feared,
his ice couldn't be melted
she tucked her chin
into her breast
and he cupped her face
by the jaws
leaned down
and gave her a kiss,
"Things are always better
in the summer"

The next time you see a girl
who is wearing a T-shirt
with writing across the chest
and she gives you a ***** look
for trying to read it,
just wink,
and tell her you're illiterate

He came in on the Greyhound bus
with deep brown eyes
smoldering like coals in his skull
the lines on his face
and the final remains
of puberty induced acne
made his age impossible to guess
He put up in the YMCA
locked up in his room
smoking with the windows open
drinking Wild Irish Rose
It felt good
as it's warmth flowed through his veins
he felt the tightness which gripped him
dissolve until he felt
adrift in an ocean of wine
He went out on the streets
The city was mostly dead at night
which allowed him the privilege
of being alone,
his destination was unknown
and near empty buses
filled with few unfortunate to be awake
He thought
he might like to burn this place down
so something,
anything could happen
to spur him from
apathetic footholds
their had to be some action,
some life,
some danger,
left in the world,
and until then
he would drink and smoke
and wait to die
and he would move,
from town to town
until the road ran out.
A transient