A photograph, a raindrop on a rooftop
I want to see you again
You just kind of pop back in my life

Here or there

You're gone again
I'm just stuck in this quiet, stained
glass jar. No sight in,
I can't see out
Like a personal museum
De-loved.
a 24K lip-pump soloist
I wish, I wish, I wish-

A cassette, an old bouquet
I want to see you again
It's horrid and you're not mine anymore

Here or there
Now or ever

Let me go in the Dark

I want to be in there
In the space of corpulent, infectious glands
Swallowing innocence with labyrinthine hands

Let me be one with the Night

My home is over there
In a place of ubiquitous fears
And a plethora of basking tears

Let me soak in the abyss

The void is so near
A comely figure,
an evocative sadist and protégé
Dripping candle wax on me
in San Lorenzo, Paraguay

Let me walk among ghosts

In the Portal Del So hotel
Tossing back Xanax;
Vicodin with a liquor chaser
Gin and vermouth, *****,
anything to forget her.

Let me wait in living purgatory

With other pods of skin
When the wind shakes the barley,
back home
Where a wife and son
never left me alone.

Let me go in the dark

Past the tortured guilt and sorrow
Where a family is made of flesh
and not ash
Where a house remains
and the fires don’t last

Let me cry and weep in silence

In a room with rotting drapes
A static-channel TV,
a two blade ceiling fan
People engulfed in one another,
A demon  for a man

Let me shower in cold, thickening blood

Standing atop broken medicine cabinet glass
So many packs a day of cheap cigarettes
and loose women
None ease the pain
like the morphine in the kitchen.

Let me go into the chasm

The vein snake is thirsty.
I take a little more each time it feeds
But maybe not waking up
is what the snake needs

Let me sleep in the dark

While infomercials for prayer play
Juxtaposed to a zealous vagabond
and father
The last serpentine dosage
for a broken martyr  
Let me go in the dark

Let me see them again

I’ll wait and watch the room shrink
And hope my eyes
never dilatorily blink.

I've put off these words for long enough.
And I think the reason why is I didn't know what they were until this moment.
You were a much needed shot of life.
You were a meteor shower through my night sky,
I would never grow tired of watching you.
But when you were gone, my eyes wouldn't adjust.
And it got me thinking that maybe
I was blind before I met you.
You don't know emptiness until someone takes a piece of you and runs far away,
and you're left with a gaping hole where they once were.
I tried my best to overlook it.
I spent all of my time with people who have probably already forgotten my name.
But then I saw your eyes for the first time in months,
and I realized this:
You can't fill emptiness with empty things.

Some days I am Ana's teacher, some days she is mine.
This morning, we look through her kitchen window,
the one she can't get clean, cobwebs massed
between sash and pane. The sky is blue-gold, almost
the color of home.
Ana, I say, each winter
I get more lonely. Both of us would like the sun
to linger as that round fruit in June, but Ana says
it's better to forget what you used to know...

Rising up from the ground the only name I know is yours. Falling back down I seem to lose myself within this consuming thought of you. This whirlpool of my thoughts of you seem to bring me down. The lights of this world I knew seem to disappear and left in the wake of darkness is nothing near the thought of my world with you. This abyss clinging to my skin and not a object in sight I step forward to proceed on a new path. A path without you. A path where your out of my mind and I take forth my own shield and sword in hand and prepare for a new dawn.  This dawning on new times to come, the dawning of all that was lost to return. You may not know who I am. I might be a ghost or a phantom but you are nothing more then a memory now.