Please just make
Hello Poetry
kid friendly.
Better for you
and for me.
The heck with
Chuck Bukowski,
Ginsberg's Howl.

Can we pour tears on the page?
  Paint war's horrors in poetry?
  Draw portraits with words?
  Make you feel love? First kiss?
  Broken heart? Pet's death?
  Parent's divorce split in two?
  Anguish of love in back seats?
  Can we poets make you feel it?
Life's butchers pacing beats
always end up eating ****.

I'm a blind man without a sun.
We live in different mirrors.
You have light for everyone.
I live life that never appears.

Stalling is my only move.
We'll really live tomorrow.
One more chance to prove
one more chance to borrow.
Promise to pay my bar tab
with an IOU of pure sorrow.

The thirst never leaves
feed me sate me please.
You brought temptation
a paper bag invitation.
My throat is dry dust
arcades died in rust.

Keep laughing
you never cried
at my dancing
all I did was died.
My soul is prancing
pearly gates pride.

It was an antiseptic space. The doctor said
   something I couldn't quite hear because loud
   seconds echoed from recent life I lived instead
   and the waiting room had an infested crowd.

   I heard stage 4, in your blood, invading your
   entire body, maybe 3 months. The noise shone
   louder. Each tick became a bomb in a war zone.
   Deafening. I thanked her and shuffled home.

   My girl just turned 2. Collateral damage.
   What god does this to my wife and our baby?
   I'm smaller each day disappearing in young age
   I smile air kisses goodbye to my fading family.