The other day I restocked on peppermint Altoids,
when I always buy the spearmint.
And I'm not sure why,
but thinking about tequila makes me smile.

I've been feeling a lot more lately,
In quantity over quality.
And I haven't been able to place it,
but with the passing days the music's become acoustic.

Between the coffee and the beers,
Father John Misty preaches away my fears.
And although I've disagreed with today,
I know tomorrow w̶e̶'̶l̶l̶ I'll be okay.

my boots stand in the  corner
my socks stuffed in their throats
and my work jeans crusted with dried thin-set
rubbing a hole in my leg,
my fingers red and scarred
I am not wanting to touch even the remote
it hurts to pet my dogs or you kitty,
I ate two awesome sour cream tacos
on the ride home
and walked to the beer store
Mohammed finally had restocked
the Olde English,
Missy , my Lab freshly spayed,
and all different,
like a pup,
full of energy nearly knocked me down but
did tip over my makeshift coffee table
spilling last nights Bud
and the ashtray and the last three month's
unopened mail and spoons and forks all here to there.
the  three kitty's hide when I come home now.
Missy all jumping and full of verve.
scares them but I pulled out a bag
and rustled it and all three
came running , I gave them all hotdogs.
Opened the top of the Malt Liquor can
and said, for the hundreth time,
as I turned my computer on,
now this is life!

Bad news restocked too soon
For proper recognition,
Much less mourning.
The upper hand, with bullets
To spare,  mad
With opportunity,
Triggers the night,
Mocks The freedom of the day,
Shuts the mouths
Of wide-eyed children.

You treated my sister like ****,
Said you loved her,
But you didn’t,
You didn’t treat her the right way,
Then yesterday you came where I work,
Just to say,
“Hey punk, How’s that disgust of a sister doing?”

I turned around and walked away,
Even though I wanted to drop you,
I stayed professional,
For a bit…

I walked into the beer freezer,
Restocked the beer shelves,
Punched the walls,
And walked out,
Turned off the lights,
And locked up the store at 10:00pm.

I went home,
With blood dripping down my fist,
Mother didn’t ask what happened,
Father didn’t either,
They both noticed,
But didn’t care.

I had a ghost, too polite to scare,
haunting took the form of kind notes,
a fridge periodically restocked,
socks paired and put in drawers

Eschewing rattled chains and wails
it chose to put the radio on,
only ever easy listening,
Sunday mourning

No ectoplasm,
no unexplained temperature drops
no arcanely spelled clues
to the tragedy of a restless soul

In time, it exorcised itself
and my communion was lost,
with a tidied kitchen,
all brass fittings shone

And I was left with everyday fear

I didn't have chains on myself
Free to move about a empty shelf
Free of brain free of wealth
Cleaned off in the rain was free of health
Till I got a job to be free of death

Boss told me "Fill the shelf"
And restocked my empty self

Filled it with Doritos and plastic
Try not to seem unenthusiastic
At lunch eat taquitos that taste toxic
Feel my chest melt, works so caustic

Chains on my body tied by checks
Money to tide me over till the next
Trade my time and self respect
For my chains and my checks

Do it to chain myself to safety I suspect

My cupboards a mess,
  my sink filled with lye

My stables now empty,
  my well has gone dry

My pastures left fallow,
  my timber all burned

My streams have been fished out,
  and what have I learned

The cupboard can be restocked,
  the sink can be cleaned

A new well can be dug,
  a new colt can be weaned

As the dams are reopened,
  new roe will then spawn

These troubles will pass
  —and my faith will move on

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)
     ‘From The Book Of Prayers’