Listen soldier to the tale of tendor nightingale
Tis a charm that soon will ease your wounds so cruel,
Singing medicine for your pain in a sympathetic strain
with a jug, jug, jug of lemonade or gruel.

Singing bandages and lint; salve and stearate without stint
Singing plenty both of liniment and lotion.
And your mixtures pushes about
And the pills for you served out
With alacrity and promptitute of motion

Singing light and gentle hands, and a nurse who understands
How to manage every sort of application.
From a poultice to leach, whom you haven't got to teach,
The way to make a poppy fomentation.

Singing pillow for you smoothed; smart and anguish smoothed,
By the rediness of feminine invention.
Singing fever thirst allayed, and the bed you've tumbled made
With a cheerful and considerate attention.

Singing succour to the brave and a rescue from the grave,
Hear the nightingale that's come to the crimea.
Tis a nightingale as strong in her heart as in her song,
To carry out so gallant an idea.



  My woman is the essence of being, she gathers the ruin of the day to offer moonbeams. Her touch, geared to moods of the moment, oscillates between slap and caress.... is always, though, kind, considerate, caring and layered betwixt lavender levels of love.
Mother of my boys, protector of the clan, matriarch and Monarch. My Janet, the very love of my life.
M.

Self-awareness
Personal doubt
Intuition
External guess

Introspective
Self-absorbed
Outgoing
Need for affection

Fashionable
Loves the mirror
Casual
Fears the mirror

Honest
Cruel friend
Considerate
*Careful liar

I heard a cry from deep inside,
That told me I had regret,
For a woman so uplifting,
And the most considerate yet.
I assumed you were relentless,
Endless phone calls after ten,
But I was irrational and overly critical,
Ranting and raving in my den.
I didn't fully understand,
That one stroke could change a life forever,
Living life to its fullest extent,
Carries the greatest treasures.
Living and learning every day,
How much she really meant to me,
Realizing how short of a life she had,
Helping her with old and new remedies.
Now that she is able to let go of me,
I feel heartless and alone,
I will forever see a considerate woman,
That she has so beautifully shown.

I must be incredibly wary
and alert
and I gotta follow my gut because there’s a reason to why
it aches
or jumps with excitement;
it knows
much more than my head does;
and I must hold myself firmly like a proud statue, but I can’t just stay in one place
I need to tiptoe on a tightrope
I mustn’t fall, but if I do, I mustn’t fuss
just get back up again,
just get on with it

I went to an art gallery this afternoon
and the theme of one small contemporary art room
was,
“just get on with it”,
(I decided that myself anyway);
there was a painting of an airplane, resting on snow,
that one was obvious
I said, “just get on with it, then, fly”
there was a painting of a snowy road,
that one was obvious too
there was a painting of a sad girl
again, obvious
but then there was a painting of a person
with a large smudge of green on his face, he barely had a face
and a large smudge of white on his waist, he barely had a waist;
I concluded,
“sometimes you don’t have a face and you just need to get on with it”
because my mood was easy breezy silly this afternoon;
but now I’m thinking
sometimes you lose your identity
and you just need to get on with it

I can barely take anyone serious when they ask the question,
“who am I?”
the answer is obvious if you allow simplicity into your heart,
“you’re what you are experiencing and feeling and being right now, and it’ll change all the time in every moment”
so,
I feel kind of commiserable
and much of a parody
for sitting in a busy mall foodcourt, with a cup of coffee I didn’t even buy at that foodcourt,
remixing an old song on garageband,
then looking up and realizing I’m surrounded by all of these kiwi strangers
and finally asking the question
“who am I”
oh I’m a lunatic, aren’t I?

I must be open, but not too open
and easy to get along with, but not too easy to get along with
I must catch a wave on the first try,
but if I wipe out, I mustn’t turn red;

I need to watch what I say
before I say it
but also find the courage to speak
when I’m shy
and I must be considerate
but not let people walk all over me

I can’t be a pushover, and I can’t be too much of a leader
because I don’t know what I’m doing
here;
I can love but I shouldn’t fall in love
at least for awhile
because I’m still high from the transition and I’m dubious of how
authentic and sincere
my falling in love
would be

worrying is the most unnecessary thing
money isn’t an issue
(right now)
and loneliness is a blessing
but it’s also a sickness
and I must remind myself that I’m worth not being lonely
and instead being free
and above all,
I am capable of anything I set my mind to,
even if I forget
“who I am”
or “what I wanna be”
above all,
I must always be me.

On Sunday, my S.O. and I
Drove to see Chorus Line
At the Stratford Festival.
A matinee. Beautiful day.
We left the Refineries of Sarnia
For fine entertainment.
The Avon flows gently
Buoying white swans gracefully.
Blah... blah... blah.
All very real.
You can see why it's called, Stratford;
There could be no other name.
A good choice.
Best Shakespearean Festival in N.A.
She explained all this to me on the drive.
If contrary people suffer
From low self-esteem, I didn't help
The situation.
As we drove through rich, green farmland,
Grazing cattle.
She asked why some barns
Have ramps leading to the barn doors.
Well, says I,
The farmers, because of the economy,
Have to sell their livestock in parts,
So the ramps give easy access for the animals
Back to their stalls.
Huh, said S.O.
That's so thoughtful!
Timing is everything.
Sincerity in voice, critical.
Hurry on to a new topic.

Someday, for sure, she'll tell someone, somewhere
About the considerate farmer.
She will.
Timing.
Like the kick line.
Like a *punch line.

Between me and you, the day the Monkeys went wild in the Zoo,
was the best day I can remember, let me recall what I saw, at the Zoo on my birthday when I had just turned Two.

My Mum and Dad had taken me for the day, I sat in my pram with the perfect view, for a small person who had just turned Two.

Then came a loud high pitch shriek, from the cage that the three striped Night Monkey lived within.

The Zoo went very quiet, as my Mum would say, you could hear someone drop a pin.

The three striped Night Monkey would sleep all day, come out at night, woke up with a sudden fright.

He began to shriek and began to call, then he rolled over and bashed the cage, he was suddenly in a terrible rage.

His shriek woke up others too, that would normally sleep by day, a Bat-eared Fox, Bandicoot and Badger all woke up about the same time as each other.

The Monkeys in the next cage in sympathy with their kind picked up their food dishes and banged their bars, they weren’t going to be left behind.

I started to laugh at the Monkeys in the Zoo, it all seemed very funny to a small person who was only just Two.

From what I remember of that day the Gorillas chimed in next, they picked the fruit up off the floor and started throwing it at people stood by their door.

The Gorillas too banged their chest and let out a loud roar, as if to say, three striped Night Monkey it’s okay, we’ve got you today.

I ducked my head as a banana flew by and nearly caught my Dad in the eye, he didn’t think it was quite as funny as I, I spat out my dummy and began to shout, “come on Monkeys what’s it all about”.

The Orangutan woke from his very deep sleep, in the middle of the day, he was older than the rest and liked a nap from time to time, to keep sprightly and sound of mind.

He rose up from the floor, standing seven-foot-tall, made his chest twenty feet wide, banged with his very huge paws and shouted with a very loud roarrrrrr
“alright everyone what’s the fuss, why have I been woken up from my mid-day nap, what’s the problem, what’s the mishap?”

The Gorilla turned to the Chimpanzee, shrugged his shoulder as if to say, “any idea what’s happening today?”

The Chimpanzee had no reply, turned to the Bandicoot, Badger and Bat-eared Fox, as if to say “I haven’t got a clue what’s happened here, what about you the Fox with Bat-Ears?”

The Badger, Bandicoot and Bat-eared Foxed all turned to the three striped Night Monkey and said, “what’s up Night Monkey, why the rage, why did you start bashing your cage?”

“mmmm,” said the Night Monkey slightly embarrassed, “it’s not like I was being harassed, it’s just I don’t like spiders and one was hanging from the ceiling, I woke up with a dreadful feeling, that it was going to fall – that’s why I started to call”

I began to laugh even more “fancy a Monkey being scared of a spider, I’m much younger and I’m not scared of a tiny creature”.

My Mum and Dad saw the funny side too and began to laugh at the antics of the Monkeys in the Zoo.

The Orangutan was feeling happier he could now go back to his nap and the three striped Night Monkey he did say, “he would try to be more considerate of smaller creatures, as long as they didn’t try to nest in his handsome features”.

The Zoo began to return to normal and people went on their way.
I will always treasure, and it will always remain, the best day ever, the day the Monkeys went wild in the Zoo.

Paint drips disguise and
obliterate lies like ink-
daubed tattoos on eyes
fooling unconditional
considerate conviction.

I was abused literally and pushed aside by teacher
He was in rage to see me when I tried to enter
He might have some grievances in mind to nurture
As I was doing fare in studies and position was assured

I was really ashy boy but excellent in pick up
I heard attentively and was cheered with thumb up
His behavior as teacher made great impact in mind
I might have taken it lightly if he was harsh or unkind

It is customary to show little disrespect to the poor students
Some of the discourtesy is extended with inferior comments
I was unable to think further but bore a grudge permanently
I remember those abusive remarks and   resisted him once vehemently

I thought and rethought about such behavior
As teacher he would have been considerate and held honor
I became reserved from that day and decided to keep silent
As it was now known to me that best way is to offer no comment

In social circle too certain disliking exist for people
It may be more intensive when they are incapable
Not in financial capacity to move forward and compete
Live under their dominance and agree to submit

I remained firm in approach but turned away from close contacts
I kept good will at heart and prayed for their well being in fact
This gave me enough of strength to observe them from distance
I was taken little note of and none observed my presence

I return gesture with kind words and remain aloof
I have enough of strength financially as single proof
They dare not to see me with inferiority and pull down
As I have established of my own and became powerfully known

I wish that same kind of maltreatment is not shown
To children who are unfortunate of having means of their own
They are really asset to us and builder of future generation
How can we be indifferent when question of building nation comes?

I have known some of the people getting blinded  
By sudden arrival of fortune and secretly confided
Their common sense gets unnatural boost to reveal
The arrogance is reflected and shown with no efforts to conceal

I’m very tired of working past my capability
I know I deserve to be happy, but I’m not
I know I need to fix this on my own
Even if someone were to dry my tears,
they could not heal my heart
I’ve been watching you treat me as anyone else
Like you aren’t my best friend and I’m not yours
When you do these things, even the little things,
like post that someone else is your “best friend”,
or hangout without me, it hurts a lot
But I know now, for sure
I can’t depend on other people to be there for me
I can’t expect people to care the way I do
or be considerate and thoughtful
I know now, for the last time
I will not depend on you
I will not expect you to care the way I did
or be considerate and thoughtful as I was
I know now that I am better off
treating you as anyone else
and caring about you only as a person
Don’t take it to heart, and I know you won’t,
because nothing can be done from here
My hope in this friendship has worn away
Not on it’s own, but it is a little late now
To apologize would be gracious and appreciated,
but it wouldn’t change my feelings
I would like to be able to thank you
for all those years we’ve conquered,
but I can’t, because there is very much I regret
I know I will be happy someday
and I know you may not be there to see it
So I will instead look to myself
I will depend on myself and thank myself
for my aspirations, interests, talents,
appearance, knowledge, and open-mindedness
as you didn’t deem necessary to do
I will push myself at my own will
I will look in the mirror and be satisfied
I will write out my feelings and fix physically
all that I find unappealing
I will appreciate myself and honor myself
as a human being, like everyone else
I will put myself first as I haven’t before
And I will be happy without a best friend

How dare you!  How dare you!
Club night tequila margherita stains
and the loose thread
you yanked
when you rubbed your
sweaty body all over
some ***** stranger
on the dark dance floor.
Strobe lights pulsing
with your libido
until he sloshed beer
down your front
when a drunken brawler
stumbled into the crowd
Oh, I’m sure HE
apologized
such a considerate guy
to take home
for mom to find
you in bed with
in the morning.
Thanks for your
consideration.

I don't want to be depressed anymore.
The shoulds and woulds
All wrapped up in why did he
And how could she.
Eating slowly at the bonds I've formed
With people.
Human beings that are doing their best
But never good enough for me,
For perfection.
I'd rather be dead.

I don't want to be upset anymore
With the strangers on the bus
In their garb of business and ***
That they speak with boisterous joy
They should be considerate of me
And speak louder to drown out my thoughts.
Maybe I could drown them out on my own.

I want to be content
Because I want to do the dishes and use them
I want to ***** the floors and wash them again,
I want to see the beauty in a teapot and the joy in a
soft pillow
To see what it is to comfort a weathered soul.
I want to uphold routine.

I want to be happy
Because I love to feel alive
And I love to feel in love.
I love to love you and I want to do that for me
And maybe you'll do it for you too.
I want to sit with you in silence
And discuss soda in the coffee shop,
I want to look at you and cry
In gratitude
The only thing I can feel for you
And I know I will.

I want to live a life,
Because I want to be alive.

many will know the beauty
of a butterfly's wing
and the delicate intricacy
of their decoration
those swathes of colour
meandering boldly in flight
a proclamation of
             their presence
             their providence
whose startling eyespots
can mimic the stolid gaze
of the stern and the alluring
observing in judgement
or perhaps in wonder
blinking only as they flutter
flattered disbelieving
yet there are reminders
in that Rorschach patterning
that those with ill intent
should observe
threats and
             warnings overlooked
by those in admiration
of such beauty
where few will heed
that gossamer fragility
broken by any
not considerate enough
in their handling

It's not suicide that's on my mind 
It's ****** that sits behind my eyes 
That awaits to appear before my pupils 
That anticipates the visual through my lenses 
That contemplates the bare face without a mask 
Violence is on my mind 
But is it out of my grasp? 
As I sigh, it's testing for me to blink 
My eyes envision the scene 
Standing over the sink 
I'm standing there with myself 
Think...
About something else!!!
Rabbits 
Cabbage 
Sandwich 
Guns 
****! Where did that come from? 
I don't need help
I refuse, because I'm not confused 
I need to do this 
Momma always told me that wants are just taunts 
So I take her words and try to define and categorize my choice 
Credible: check 
Eligible: check 
Inevitable; yes, I have the perfect excuse despite the notion of being rightful 
Momma didn't counsel that etcetera 
So I don't even think of the sentencing 
The authorities aren't as preventing 
So they don't know what I'm thinking nor do they know what I'm doing 
Until it's done 
They might catch me because I will neglect to hide or run 

1st degree 
My 2nd attempt 
My 3rd resort 

In this case is my mind my best resource? 
If I recourse and explore my feelings 
I will still have a passion, maybe to do it in a more gruesome fashion 

A murderer's mind is like fish's eyes 
Restless 
Selfish 
(how so when the attention is steady on the potential victim? 
Although, but Is this really being considerate?)

I have plenty of lifeless bodies in my psychological attic 
One time I got this guy looking spiffy and brought him into the living room where I tried to sit him upright on the sofa 
It was a pain in the *** for my brain in the past 
I thought about his family more than of him, overall it effected my comfortability at home 
So often times I found myself in the basement 
Heart racing 
Quick movements and fast pacing 
Thought I was drawing attention 
For revenge to trace it 
So I tightly secured my spaces 
Kept two firearms adjacent 
I think about the things that I do 
Thats dreadful enough for comrades to contact taboo 
I hope retaliation was only nightmares and don't become déjà vu 
Because if that's the case then if I can remember the handle was still lodged into my waist 
As gas operates and bolts rotate from the Izhmash make 
Majority of the exploded cartridges run stray 
I run in between Subway and Chase 
Where I can take cover 
And aim my muzzle 
Before my corpse completely turn into rubble 
I was penetrated too well now to move with bustle
Then I suddenly remembered my mother 
...
I wanted to stay alive 
...
I couldn't cry because I seen this before 
Just from the other side 
But who cares? 
I just wish those men would look me in my eyes
As I would 
But they rather witness my demise from a distance 
*******!
...
Here I am 
Criminal minded 
Blinded 
From any 
Uummmm I don't know 
Natural state or thought 
But guess what? 
Guess who I'm studying while i'm placed in front of the mirror? 
Noooo I said guess 
...
You'll find out soon enough
...
(Shoulder shrug)
I guess

When you call me.
When you write me.
When you whisper sweet words.
You're thoughful.

I'm asborded by your expressional heart.
When you reach out to me.

When you kis me.
When hold me.
When you say you lost without me.
You're thoughful.

When I'm sick.
And you are there.
When you sick.
And I am there.
We thoughtful toward one another.

You considerate in every way.
You someone that special to me in many ways.

There can be no absolution
for the things I’ve done

yet you do not talk of revenge or retribution

you forgive, too easily
(or maybe I believe, too easily)

lulled into a false sense of security

maybe I will pay one day
offer a vial of my blood to a faceless God

break my bones down
until they are a pile of dust

dust that you can scatter, like ashes
pretending I was good once, kind, considerate

a girl a million miles away for the one
wielding the knife over your best friend’s heart

yes, there were mitigating circumstances
but very few victims actually **** their ******

I mean, that’s wrong. They all should, really,
and get away with it.

because people like that have given up
their right to live

**** is ****** in a way,
except you wake up…

to **** these animals is self defence,
reclaiming, asserting yourself that
you will NOT be a ******* victim

that there can be only one survivor in this
and that’s you

Look outside when you read this.

Let's scream from a hill,
It's your life that's on the line
Nobody can pay for the "future"
It's not a guaranteed luxury
There is nobody who life owes
I know today isn't the best
And tomorrow is a cup of whiskey
So, right now, for me it's this;
I want beauty in my sight, always
Now, not the flip through tv channels
Non-substantial beauty most need
I'm talking about different beauty
Beauty like James Browns' voice
The beauty of the strong helping the weak
The man who is considerate to man
The woman carrying her child
The rich aiding the ones in need
The beauty when loving someone
Is more that grouped words
But making sure their lover is warm
The beauty you feel when
The hopeless fight for hope
When nobody else will believe them
Beauty, when a man gives his hand
Even when the world eats their flesh
The beauty in the eyes of fathers
When we know our sons future
Will be a battle they won't see
But we will have the story to tell them

The beauty miles away or feet away
Of the strong who help those
When then have nothing themselves
Except their good hearts.

"You can be whatever you want to be," he says.
Isn't he so ******* inspirational?
Something straight out of a storybook meant for a hopeful, innocent, naive child.
I've always thought that this statement was relevant, because we humans as a rule usually do whatever we want to do.
We follow our guts, our desires, our cravings, our wants.
I've always tried to employ this rule, just because my mommy once told me to be whatever I wanted to be.
But someday quite sometime ago, I learned that you can't get everything you want.
One cannot be president, an astronaut, or beautiful, or smart just by "wanting" it.
You could eventually, theoretically get what you wanted through hard work or finagling or knowing the right people or maybe by just being lucky.
But realistically we don't always get what we want, which means we can't be whatever we want to be.
I've always tried to think that I want to be skinny and pretty, so I'm going to work out and I'm not going to eat and because I want it, it will happen.
I've always tried to think that I want to be happy, so I'm going to make friends and hide my awkward sadness and smile frequently and because I want to be happy, it will happen.
I've always tried to think that I want considerate people to surround myself with, so I'm going to treat others how I want to be treated and I'm going to bend over backwards to show others I care and because I want to feel important to others, it will happen.
I've always tried to think that I could have any career I want, so I'm going to follow "what makes me happy" and try to find a job in a barren career field and because I want to be a happy adult (if such a thing exists), it will happen.
There are so many things I desperately want myself to be.
Compassionate, smart, attractive, intelligent, loving, witty, beautiful, fit, skinny, talented, well put together, and I could list thousands more.
But there are so many aspects of myself that I don't want that I will never be able to get rid of.
So while I think that wanting to be something is relevant to how much you want it, because as a rule humans do whatever we want, I think there are certain things you cannot change just by wanting them.
So Mister Inspirational, take a step back from your whiskey bottle, your larger than life aspirations, and let reality slap you in the face.

"Papa. Read my the four little pigs and the BIG BAD POUF." With emphasis on the big bad "POUF", we begin the fascinating journey of the pigs and the rehabilitation of the "Pouf".

My granddaughter (age 2) loves the story and when ever we come to the Big Bad she says the "POUF" part. It rather sounds like a French pastry.

The fourth pig, as everyone knows, is Momma pig, she sent the defenseless little pigs out the door with a warning, "the BIG BAD "POUF" likes to eat little pigs." Seems to be a common malady of "Poufs" and Humans.

The BIG BAD "POUF", we are told, watched from the top of the hill where he lived. He was a considerate "Pouf"... letting the little pigs build their straw, sticks and bricks houses before offering to be a building inspector to test the strength of straw and sticks. The "Pouf" condemned the first two houses... huffing and puffing and all of that. All the hair on the little pigs chin could not stop the tinsel strength test performed by the Big Bad "Pouf".

Everyone knows that brick is stronger than straw and sticks but we have a Big Bad "POUF" that begs to differ.  Consequently, he ends up in hot water, much like Humans who make bad decisions.  Not the brightest and smartest choices made in Pig/"Pouf" Land.  At least this pig did not put the lid on the *** and have "POUF" for lunch.

The "POUF" became a reformed "Pouf" staying on his hill top.  No more Big Bad for him.  Kind and gentle. A NEW "POUF"!

Now 60 years ago the Building Inspector in this story got into hot water and became the lunch of the brick house pig. The other two pigs became lunch of the "POUF" but I suppose I will not be telling that to my two year old any time soon.  

There are many versions of the story. Things have changed over the years.  The Three Little Pigs live happily ever after and the "Pouf" now stays up on the hill and is a GOOD BOY.  Getting into hot water can be a life changing moment... provided the lid is NOT put on the kettle.  Moral to this story... stay away from pigs who carry hammers, trowels and squares. Or.  Don't be a blow hard.

(c) 02/14/2012 by John Stevens

I'm pretty you said..
    But not beautiful enough.
You like the way I say things. .
    But not crazy enough.
You are happy when you're around me..
    But not excited enough.
You want me ..
   But not possessive enough.
You love me..
   But not passionate enough.

I said enough I've had of your compliments and that's for me is enough.
Because you are here..
   But not present enough.
You are charmer ..
   But not cheesy enough.
You are a man ..
   But not human enough.
You are a friend. .
   But not considerate enough.
You are a waste of time. .
   But not enjoyable enough.
So I'm done..
   Enough is enough.

Lost Sight in life
Though I'm not Blind

ConsideRate
Yet I'm not paid in Kind

Now I'm Lost
As I searched to Find

I gave it Heart
Only to lose my Mind.

There are countless of things that the previous year has taught me. From how to travel to the city on my own to picking ears to whisper on. It introduced me to beautiful people, mesmerizing places, and hard fights. Confusing and nerve-racking moments which leads me to learn a few things that I shall carry with me to the years I will exist in.

1. It is okay to get bored of something you enjoyed for a long time. People change. My bones and skin continues to stretch and sometimes, some qualities & likes are left at the bottom of my feet. I can be completely different from who I was 5 days ago. Life never runs out of things to teach you minute by minute and you are not expected to always stay the same.

2. Never be afraid to meet new people. Whether they have a beautiful or horrible effect on you at the end of the day, you will be so glad you had them and continue to have them in your life.

3. I do not need validation and justification from others to know that I matter. The biggest love that I can receive is the love from myself. No one can ever understand me more than myself. I am a complex anatomy that only I can fully understand. I do not need a partner to carry me through life. I should carry myself. I know myself the best.

4. I am not an exception to being toxic. More often than not, I cannot see the effect that I make on other people. I can hurt others just as much as others hurt me. I learned that I should always be considerate of their feelings.

5. Coffee will never leave you alone. Through sleepless nights and buckets of tears, coffee has always felt like home in a cup. With every sip, I feel my body fall back into place and function properly again.

6. Love will come when it's time. I've always been impatient when it comes to love. I was always so envious of my friends who has sweet partners that would put a smile on their face. I wanted that, I wanted romance. And when infatuation came, I misunderstood it as romance & grabbed it fully. Then, it faded away and I was left wondering if I was that easy to get. True romance shouldn't make you feel bad about yourself. It will come and when it does, you will understand why the past was tragic.

7. He may or may not like me; either way, it doesn't matter. So I like this friend of mine and by the time I read this piece again, I probably don't like him anymore. He understood what you were, he just did. He found joy in discovering the comets and planets inside of me. I don't blame you, self, for falling in love with him.

8. Just write. When something fails, write it. When it prosper, write about it. I always had the fear that one day, I will lose my ability to write again. I am still unsure if any of these musings mean something to me but I hope it means something to others. I will always leave my poems without an meaning because it can vary from reader to reader. Whatever the poem made you feel, that's its meaning. To make you feel something.

There is no doubt the coming year can be worst or better than the previous one. There are so many things to learn about someday. That's how life is, you suffer then you learn. And it's never gonna stop teaching you. Seize the year, folks.

i don't remember much from last night.
i remember going to the bar with greasy food and cheap drinks,
and flirting with the bartender, because i find homophobia amusing.
there was something about starting a scooter, and a very illegal drive home.

i woke to find an empty bottle of something or another, a case of bud ice,
and shiner blonde.

i've always had a thing for blondes.

i can still taste the fast food i must've had,
and can feel what was probably a full pack of cigarettes in my chest.
i left myself another pack, a coke, and some aspirin on my windowsill.
i'm so considerate.
i'll make a note to apologize to my liver, later.
maybe once the pounding goes away.

i've never believed in god, but if there's one thing worth blessing,
it's college night.

There is nowhere to hold this, and it is heavy.

We drink coffee in white, square mugs
on the fifth ***** step.
I am sick and the coffee pinballs in my stomach.
You do not care about hydration.
You are covered in so much paint
you look like Matisse in a fender-******.
You look sore all the way down to your fingers.

The bed in the opposite room won't be yours,
but could be.

I lope around nauseous on the mornings
I don't work. I light candles that jump
with a stench of French Vanilla. Dogs bark
unholy early.
I tire of the anxious sleep of the newly living-there,
the newly living.
The loud neighbour,
the considerate neighbour,
the ******* dogs.

I open the bedside drawer.
No Gideon hotel bibles.
Condoms, picture frames,
instructions for a washing machine.
No Bibles.

Sometimes, I find it in my shoes - this envy -
or in my pockets.
And sometimes I drag it behind me,
like wedding cans on a bachelor's car,
filaments of grief and filthy broken dinnerware,
threaded cotton of towels
too often used without washing
and wine bottle bones.

And somebody once told me not to paint a
room in it, but this jealousy is sage, not lime,
and I could **** well sleep in here,
and sometimes do.