the lady has me temporarily off the bottle
and now the pecker stands up
better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and
Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke
the nights change, new
complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins,
31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry
Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...

we park outside and look at icecream
people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they
find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in
and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening
the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or
grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave
that flows about. I feel like a ***** in a
beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and
sit in the car and eat them.

I must admit they are quite good. a curious new
world. (all my friends tell me I am looking
better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you
were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the
hospitals...

and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for
love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight
looking through, we sleep in each other's
arms.

the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

I am now fifteen
and I am now afraid
that one day I'll look up
and all of this will fade away.

I am now fifteen
and I am insecure
because everyone around me
expects me to be sure.

I am now fifteen
and nothing here makes since
except his arms around me
and except for his sweet kiss.

I am now fifteen
and to be as honest as I can be
something tells me one day I might
be wishing again for fifteen.

The voices inside her head its where her demons hide
time is paralyzed and  she catches her breath
where there is a flames someone’s bound to get hurt the
blade as the brush with slowly skimming on the canvas
the crimson paint will steadily dribble down the pale canvas
she has a story to her hazy existence and if she is to let her walls come
down, the inside wall be annihilated by shallowness and cruelty
in the past she was isolated so she covered her feelings with a tight
smile, she goes through life aching with eternal agonizing pain
there is no one to have faith in if one shall live on this sadistic  earth
no one is there to be her superhero before the hour has come,
before it is too late, the spell must be broken
before it all scatters on the floor; before it goes boom; before
it drains out on the white floor; before the stool is pushed away; before it
thuds in the city lights; before it makes a splash in the navy pool of salt;
before those gray eyes shut completely, exiting the world
just before it is too late
but wait, are those five guys, running towards her? They are quite
unnoticeable, who can they be?
These boys saved her life before the time has come
they are her saviors, they understood the grief
for she is thankful and
they are in her heart, and she is in their hearts, engraved
forever

a.a

i think you,
when the world
(easy with roses)
speaks a hymn
like the mute
crushing of
parted night,
will rise beyond your body
to sing with fierce grace
your hands as lips to speak;
such love (even the roots
of flowers have never known)

Pt. I
Longing for your
lonely fingertips
The taste of the space
between your breaths
Slow sips of
Your coffee lips
My Hands
Your Hips
The bite
The kiss
The marks you left
When I couldn't get you
Out of my neck
Screaming off my chest
In the morning
We meant it harder
Than tying our tongues
in goodbye
a new record
inside your cheek
where you hide the most
beautiful smile alive
before you dressed it up
to oppress the rest
in an ironic twist  
of fate

Pt. II*

I was listening
To *The Decline
On the way home
From your place

I felt like I might do the same

But the moon was rising
and it looked like the Death Star
In the distance

There's still hope somewhere
it reminded me
To keep finding what I'm looking for

The country roads always
look more beautiful
When Mother Nature
Is dying
To fall apart
Gracefully

Don't we all wanna fall apart
so gracefully?