No job today. Sitting alone in the living room I sip a beer bought with my dwindling supply of cash. I guess I’m not trying hard enough. Rain comes down in wispping sheets outside. The peaks of the tallest buildings downtown are cloaked in grey. There’s a crawling sense of urgency deep within me but it stirs little. It’s overlaid with a knowing of my self that secures me, a certainty that none of this time is being wasted. I've always known who I am in an other than obvious sort of way. I was born and continue to be a watcher, a passive observer of the drifting seconds. As the rain falls in a steady stream of droplets my beer glass is slowly emptied. Thoughts, like the seconds, float by, like flies landing and then buzzing off to a more succulent  morsel. I like it this way. Unattached, solitary. It’s a freedom no hero can grant you. It’s a way of looking at the world like the weather. Rain today, not tomorrow. Sun tomorrow, the next day may be snow. Although I do get hungry from time to time (for relationships and food). Sitting and waiting for my baby girl to fly out to meet me in Philly. How I miss her skin! Maybe a job wouldn't be such a bad idea after all. It would pass the time at least and give me another vantage point from which to conduct my observations of this fading world. Maybe pay for my sweet potatoes. I finish my beer and step into the grey.

Rough hands on skin of silk
calloused and full of stories
he’s eager to use me as his canvas
he wants to make me his latest
masterpiece of love and
I accept in hopes he'll keep me
for his private collection

dust calls my heart home
although I’ve
never been in that expanse
I am now
trapped in the titles of this city
feeling the need to get away
into the sun and dirt
where you are as unknown as the
icy fingers of a winter breeze
in that place
I hope to find a part of myself
always known missing
I’ll never understand
a place I've never been
calls me home

I’m not sure I believe
that one day the void will close,
the glass will be filled
and all will smell of roses
with the sky lightened by
another new morning

better to have loved and lost,
easier said than done,
adrift in the tide with our
memories washing against me

The inevitability of the kiss
of sea and sand
seems less romantic
and more a nuisance
now an endless cycle all too familiar

never entering my mind that
the day would come
when I’d be drained of all hope
for the rekindling of what was

and god, we really were something

Swept up leaves in the wind
weightless and unruly against their own wishes
now explode with beauty only to
dull and decay like the
fading hearts who turned with the seasons
yearning for the lightness once felt
when all was in bloom as they
wait in the windows for
life again

Left alone with my chardonnay and nicotine,
He walks out the door with a smile on his face and a pep in his step
And I slide down into the cushions and swish the sweet nectar over my tongue and teeth.
He’ll be back, my cigarette is almost to the filter and I flick the stick at the eye sore on my bookcase.
Flitting around town he’s getting his fill on Jack and Jim, making twilight friends out of strangers.
I listen to the floors creak and the couple below me start to scream at each other.
Early summer’s heat is taking its toll. Time will pass as it always does.
I light another cigarette and the hours drone on. A knock on the door snaps me out of my melancholy.
Familiar pools of green are looking at me from the door way. He wasn't gone long.
Dark patterns have formed on his shirt and he wears a crown of sweat.
He handed me a bottle and the chill sent lightning through my fingertips.
The quarrelers below have exchanged their harsh words for lustful moans and I pour two glasses.
Are you in trouble?
What makes you think that? He sips his ***** and holds his hand out to me. I give him mine and his lips rest softly on my knuckles.
You're never home this early. He looks hurt, but flashes me that winning smile and takes me in his arms.
Our body heat could scorch this earth.
I look over to my full glass and sigh.
Another glass wasted..

If god was a real person ,
I'd sue .
For floppy ***** ,
And gaping eye sockets .
Misplaced fat pockets
Stretch marks and paranoid doobs.
For photoshopped pictures
And singles mixers
And never being able to properly chew
My words Before I spit them out
For men that don't ask before they mount
And for all the doubt .
For protesters in front of abortion
Clinics and mimics .
And being more creative without your adoration .
For false salvation .