I like to pretend the storm that's been raging around me isn't man made, I like to think you're still sleeping on the other side of the bed, I always hope I wakeup to your lips instead of drunken phone calls & empty threats, I think about your hands more than I should and I think about nights in your bed more than I do anything else. I like to remember how you'd smile when you woke up & how you'd pull me closer while you were sleeping. I hope you know your steady breathing was the only thing keeping me sane. I see you in my dreams and I can feel you on my tongue. I wake up to a clenched jaw and grinding teeth, & missed calls from numbers I don't recognise with voices I don't remember. the only number I can remember is yours.

Laugh loudly, walk proudly,                                                         ­                           
                                                                                                              
     dance around till you fall down,                                                            ­          
                                                                ­                                                  
smile until it hurts your face,                                                            ­                                      
                          ­                                                                 ­                                   move your body, don't stay in one place,                                                           ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­          
sing even if you know you're bad,                                                             ­   
                                                             ­                                                         
tell dumb jokes & be stupid glad,                                                      
                                                                ­                                                  
drink wine, get buzzed,                                                          ­                              
                                  ­                                                                 ­                 
give a total stranger a hug,                                                             ­                                   
                                                                ­                                                        
      wear something you never would                                                            ­              
                                                  ­                                                                 ­ 
act a fool, you know you should,                                                          ­      
                                                          ­                                                        
this is my recipe for fun,                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                                    
                                                                ­                                                    
go ahead & get yourself some

I am not a writer, I 'm a prisoner in my head,                                              
                                                                ­                                          
compelled to think, to write, what is being said                                                             ­       
                                                                ­                                                
Feeling too much, it comes pouring out of me.                                          
                                                                ­                                            
bleeding onto pages, demons exorcised from me

Death winks at the
lilies that smile in
the rain.
He takes her.
The last ***** trick.

Watered drinks and
syphilis doesn't do the
patrons any good.
Too much grief for
placebos and madness.
Relief must come.
***** and fantasy just
bring sickness, and
licking frogs is
out of the question.

Pipe dreams ease the pain
if you smoke them slowly.
Watch the blue ghost curl
into the feeling fan.

This saloon is home for the
iceman.
So, buy me another drink,
and we can think about
doing it all
tomorrow.
Isn't that right, Mr. O'Neil?

I was starving in
Pennsylvania.
One night, I had
enough.
Done with it all.
The poverty and
sickness.
The drunken mad
nights
and dog-fight days.
Brutality for breakfast.
Served sunny side up
runny yolks with
butterflies trapped in
the yellow sunshine.
Spiders built webs in
my soul.

I stood on the torn-up
couch in my living room and
yelled at the walls.

Listen, you devil.
You want me, you better be
ready for a fight.
I paced the floor like a
washed-up heavyweight champ,
eyeing the ceiling like a
drunken sparrow in a cat's mouth.

Without poetry, we'd all
be chained to fences of time.
locked in,
torn apart,
played with by the
cosmic dance.

Don't get me wrong,
the poems can't
cure cancer, or heal the
lame dog's leg.
But, they might give
the ****** hope, and the
hobos a home.

Poetry tricks the mind
into seeing things,
like woolfhounds with
bagpipes playing an
Irish jig, far away from
the ferryman and his ride
across the river.

Without poetry, about now,
my skull
would be a home for beetles
and worms, turning
ever so slowly into
dust.

Destiny is a
smiling *******
riding a motorcycle
through the
neighborhood, laughing
at children playing in
yards, eaten by worms and
time.
Pink
green
white
Keliedescope confusion on all
the cat's faces.
Providence is a stealthy hunter.

Broken glass on the floor,                                                           ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­        
  holes punched through the door,                                                            ­                
                                                                ­                                                        
                                                                ­                                                    
all say I love you & more                                                             ­               
                                                                ­                                                        
to those who've been there before                                                           ­               
                                                 ­                                                             
Pictures out of the frames,                                                          ­          
                                                      ­                                                            
piled up ready for the flames                                                           ­             
                                                                ­                                                              Curse words & then your name                                                             ­     
                                                                ­                                                        
all in efforts to assign blame                                                            ­            
                                                    ­                                                              
Cell phones with cracked screens,                                                         ­   
                                                                ­                                              
police called to a domestic scene                                                            ­            
                                                    ­                                                    
Bleached clothes strewn in the tub                                                              ­    
                                                                ­                                                  
   all this has to be true love                                                             ­ 
                                                               ­                                             
Ripped clothes thrown on the floor                                                            ­            
                                                                ­                                              
along with your heart & more                                                             ­   
                                                                ­                                                  
All of this drama, what's it for?                                                             ­             
                                                   ­                                                             
This isn't love, it's settling a score