at one moment you are lying on that heated floor
with a person you feel your affections grow
next moment, a figure from far appears
and you have become seemingly disposable

you are not owed an explanation
at why the plans have suddenly changed
new love, fresh air and reinvigorated spirit
seemingly do not extinguish an old flame

perhaps, in fact, it has fanned it to grow
and while the smoke and falling walls crumble
from a house of love that was not even yet plastered
its another painful blow and an even more hurtful tumble

1)
He's brilliant but he doesn't make a bit of sense
(what sense does that make?)
He empowers them, while I **** his
poisoned arrow,
when they face hell, he pulls them up
but I,
am an eagle down..
and I'm pigeon-toed
in his bigotry,
my feathers are tarred, I'm
under his elephant foot, choking
on his sloppy joe.

2)
I didn't know my own disposability
reality hit hard, I was
ignorant, there are no great people left
there is no way.
time... has passed... and
changed much like 'us',
now I'm up by New York
without a second thought of you.
chugchugchugchugchugchugchug
Is that dawn in the garage?
has she chipped all the paint?
I'll wait in Hoboken,
I'll wait by the telephone
cause someone has to pay,
I'm sorry to say,
it's not the great graffiti artists of New Jersey
or the rainbow-braided boy,
it's the nonrecyclables
and the flammable toys, wooden and headed
for the incinerator.

3)
Been here calling you,
calling you to come, calling you here,
I hope with all my being you can hear me calling...

(a day drunk with thinking goes by)
        

or
perhaps I wish you'd ignore my efforts
and make love to yourself,
have a good acid trip...

(a few good hours pass, until I look into their dilated eyes and remember my little 'crystal ball')



MAYBE if it were ALIVE, could i TRY and understand it!
What If I drink
from the lesbian's coke or use her chapstick?

I'm illiterate.

OH mama, how'd you fall off the shelf?
I thought I had you hanged, I could
build an igloo, with these walls,
and line it with leather OH
let it snow
and I shall play
in the sludge.


4)
Men, naked, smeared
excrement on their faces
***** insects crawl
at your toes
bloodied, yellow
moans, almost
instrumental
Fade   into the cement wall...
trembling cries, drooling into a pool
of *****, tears
and saliva
little words in weak screams
they were to live but to not be living,
I AWOKE
on my mother's oriental rug and wondered
with dust in my mouth,
why I'd fantasize such Disgust.
Why I saw men,
naked, smeared excrement on their faces
and their jaundiced feet
in puddles
of *****, though they're starving
and smelling,
smelling smell upon smell, of decaying bodies
of themselves
and sunlight would be a gift from
the prison-guard-god
dying to die like their brothers,
trying to ask why of the others,
why don't they have the answers,
caught up again, WHY
do i sleep at my mother's?

disposability:

(noun)

no one’s going to love me forever.

pen to paper, the ink stays

but the paper?

well.

it can still be discarded

how can i open up and trust
and make myself vulnerable
in this dangerous game of love
when the stakes are high
and lust is ephemeral as a day fading into night
how long will love last when everyone is disposable
and a replacement a swipe away
how much value do I have in your eyes
before and after we say, “i love you”

your indignant snow seemed
so wasteful,
so condemned:
i remembered
your halo calming me as
the stage lights trembled;
i remembered your unabashed
stillness, the defenceless apathy of
corpses—

you lay wan,
abject, an object of
blank disposability,
howling in the roundness
of dust.

Gone
I may be
But it brought him no joy
To get rid of me

I treat people as if they are disposable,
I keep them at arms length,
Always sure to never let them truly see me
For who I am and what I’ve been through
patiently waiting
For them to **** up.
Now, the size of the **** up does not matter so much
As the fact that the **** up occurred
If you **** up you cannot be trusted.
because what would have happened
If I shared with you part of me
And you took it with you, as you ****** up?
Now I am less than whole with one less person in my life
Something I cannot afford
So I wait for the **** up
So I can let you go
Before I even get the chance to give you a peace of me
Before you even get the chance to run away
With a piece of me

I wish you wouldn’t picture me so cruelly.
Or at least do so quietly,
if you must.
Pull close the curtains
when using my image to self-flagellate,
feign disposability,
fester contempt,
and recoil at every name
I never once thought to call you.

Words miles
from loving, words
not truly about me.
Never tragic
poignant,
or even any of my business.
Rotating quietly amongst the broken dishes
slammed doors
and cracked disposable razors
growing in every doorframe.

Every action leading to those moments;
specific
incidental
and unique
could never quite be traced back to conception
for the weathervane has turned
and cannot be undone.

In so many words
I’m still thinking
softly of you
and know better
than to ask why.
But right now,
my hands don’t feel
any less empty
in the morning quiet and
I wish I could be there with you
right now
to give you one more solid kiss
before I can’t anymore.