Beware of new
money. It wants
to be free and easy
but can't get past, "Look at
me, Look at me."
money. It wants
to be free and easy
but can't get past, "Look at
me, Look at me."
Pockets of hard
rain all the way
to Louisville make you
crave dry socks and heavy
hotel towels.
Everything about
me being a
man disgusts her - "What you
just did is gross" “What, like
living, breathing?”
I've wasted so
much time drinking
beer and smoking weed that
it won't amount to a
pile of coke.
It's alright. You
can throw me in
the air like a rag doll.
It only makes me tougher
when I hit ground.
Firecrackers in the
basement, coke on
the ceiling. There’s more to
life than driving around
in a Blazer.
Lots and lots of
disappointment
this week. Losses in games
and losses in life. At
least I got my wife.
Excuse me, sir,
but I pay the
premium like all the
others just the same. Why
not pay the claim?
That's more than the
deductible.
I can do the math. I
got pretty good grades in
it in high school.
Nothing else to
do, Jack, so let's
give it another whirl.
If you weren't a boy,
you'd be a girl.
Amy? Is that
you? I thought it
a mirage through and through.
You've e had a baby. It
really is true.
If it weren't for
our possible
familiarity,
I would view you with some
hilarity.
But since we stand
alone on this
beaten path, state your claim
you unkown potential
psychopath. Speak.
It is me, Gene,
your lab partner
from high school. We cut off
the balls of a male
mouse together.
You passed out, right
on the floor. I
picked you up and then we
dissected more. Don't you
remember it?
I remember
now. Mrs. Smith
had a cow. She wanted me
to quit, but I couldn't
do it. No shit.
You drooled up a
smidgeon like a
big city pigeon with
a grape in its beak and
leak underneath.
You had a kid?
Oh wait, I had
heard that you did. Who was
the father, Bill McCluskey
or was it Syd?
I must be going
before my son
starts up crowing in this
stroller confined with a
soiled behind.
White Castles and
sweat smell kind of
the same the next morning
in your car parked sideways
on the driveway.
You need some new
material.
This reaching under the
covers after the news
is getting old.
Don't try, he said,
laughing in his
grave, burping. Don't cry, she
said, standing at the bed
smiling, lurking.
One face to the
world, one face
to yourself. One dream to
unfurl, one dream on a
shelf. This is all.
Trapped here nightly,
walking lightly
to a couch in the old
guest room. Sleep won’t come, so
it’s all night numb.
Louisville sits
on a river
crossed by bridges if you
jumped off of you’d die in
a swirl of foam.
Black guy standing
in line next to
me at Starbucks where I
used to ride bikes with us
white kids only.
Trapped in the Now
of golly gee
and Sham Wow. Release me
from time and I won't be
a mime or cow.
Trapped in the Now
of shimmering
light that can keep you wide
awake in a town where
everything's brown.
The real death of
radio comes
softly, like a feather
floating to rest on a
pile of shit.
I'm tired of
feeling tired.
The hamster wheel takes
a lot. Always pumping,
Always wired.
I'm tired of
feeling shitty
about myself. Gray skies,
empty checking account,
poor self image.
I'm tired of
feeling worn. It's
been that way since I was
born. Relief is forgiveness
away, they say.
I'm tired of
plastic people.
They're hard to destroy,
Easy to annoy, and
full of false ploy.
“I can do this.”
Haven’t you said
this to yourself only to
find that it isn’t true
at all, y’all?
Lonely dumpster
on a rainy
day. I would love to help
you out, but I gotta
be on my way.
Road Closed Ahead,
Rail Crossing Near.
Don't know which to fear more -
Locomotive death or
construction gore?
It's crystal clear
that you're not near
on a cloudless night but
for pricks in the sky of
my lonely eye.
Pipes on the road.
Someone lost his
load. There will be a crane
and some pain for the clown
who tied it down.
Her daffodils are
dying from an
April snowstorm that was
not supposed to get here
til November.
Even the snort
machines pretend
that the long struggle through
cold, rain and snow hasn't
been all that bad.
…..
Arrogance
We won’t hear his
laugh again. That hurts.
His laugh left you wanting
more, a respite from the
pounding sadness.
I don’t know how
he died, but if
how you live your life is
any indication,
he was ready.
“Touch my chest. Here.”
You could feel
his heart through a piece of
plastic. Beat beat, thump thump,
always laughing.
We started too
early. Barely
hair on our balls, we drank
and did drugs. Wampum,
Riverside Park.
He joins Chris, who
also had the
laugh. I am pissed that I
didn’t record their laughs.
I want to hear them.
They got caught in
the net. I got
out. And I feel pretty
guilty about that right now.
It could be me.
Instead, they’re in
the ground. Their moms
cry a little with a
morning cup of coffee
and newspaper.
I want to say
something to my
dead friends. Instead, I’ll tell
you – Sorry that I was
not a good friend.
I am sorry
that I didn’t
help rescue you. We started
together. You finished
it out alone.
When I get there,
you can both kick
my ass. I abandoned
you so that I could live.
Please forgive me.
…………….
Tell me about
your pain. Are we
the same? If we compare,
what will we uncover?
Your call, your game.
Island me, I
want to be free,
but Trump and A. O. C.
won't leave me be. In, or
get the fuck out.
Maple syrup
Golden waffles
Bacon sizzles, rain drizzles.
Eggs fried. Still don't know why
all three friends lied.
Cattails sway in
the wind by a
two-lane highway that leads
to a gas station that
is God's creation.
Words follow me
everywhere. I
can't get away from “duck,"
"scaffold," and "transgression."
“Truth” haunts me too.
Silent, scraping
leaves on a
sidewalk. I can see them
but not hear. It meant more
before the war.
Sunset over
St. Thomas More
parking lot... holding hands
with my wife makes me
happy for life.
Sun, moon, dots on
a table. Tell
me a joke, a poem, a
fabricated fable.
Please, just don't lie.
An invasive
Japanese grass
grows through the slats of an
old house that no
longer holds joy.
Can you carry
the weight of your
life? It's a lot to do.
If you can't, good for you,
But not your wife.
The beauty and
art of living
construction. At 4 you
wake, you can't bake, but look
what you can make.
Fighting to hold
a smile, only
for it to fade. I'd do
her frown, but that grin will
never get laid.
That Korean
place serves up a
barbecue sauce that makes
you want to whistle and
sniff your armpit.
Your back glistens
in the sun. You
are the one. I would do
anything to taste the
salt of your soul.
Move your foot, please.
It's touching me.
Now move your elbow. Mom,
he's touching me. He smells
and I hate him.
This whole life has
added up to
this one moment of MASH
reruns and a bowl of
plain Cheerios.
Maybe I will
feel better
later. But for now, for
having me, my mom, I
freakin hate her.
Illusion time.
It's not a crime
to lie to friends, or boast.
But if you try it in
public, you're toast.
rain all the way
to Louisville make you
crave dry socks and heavy
hotel towels.
Everything about
me being a
man disgusts her - "What you
just did is gross" “What, like
living, breathing?”
I've wasted so
much time drinking
beer and smoking weed that
it won't amount to a
pile of coke.
It's alright. You
can throw me in
the air like a rag doll.
It only makes me tougher
when I hit ground.
Firecrackers in the
basement, coke on
the ceiling. There’s more to
life than driving around
in a Blazer.
Lots and lots of
disappointment
this week. Losses in games
and losses in life. At
least I got my wife.
Excuse me, sir,
but I pay the
premium like all the
others just the same. Why
not pay the claim?
That's more than the
deductible.
I can do the math. I
got pretty good grades in
it in high school.
Nothing else to
do, Jack, so let's
give it another whirl.
If you weren't a boy,
you'd be a girl.
Amy? Is that
you? I thought it
a mirage through and through.
You've e had a baby. It
really is true.
If it weren't for
our possible
familiarity,
I would view you with some
hilarity.
But since we stand
alone on this
beaten path, state your claim
you unkown potential
psychopath. Speak.
It is me, Gene,
your lab partner
from high school. We cut off
the balls of a male
mouse together.
You passed out, right
on the floor. I
picked you up and then we
dissected more. Don't you
remember it?
I remember
now. Mrs. Smith
had a cow. She wanted me
to quit, but I couldn't
do it. No shit.
You drooled up a
smidgeon like a
big city pigeon with
a grape in its beak and
leak underneath.
You had a kid?
Oh wait, I had
heard that you did. Who was
the father, Bill McCluskey
or was it Syd?
I must be going
before my son
starts up crowing in this
stroller confined with a
soiled behind.
White Castles and
sweat smell kind of
the same the next morning
in your car parked sideways
on the driveway.
You need some new
material.
This reaching under the
covers after the news
is getting old.
Don't try, he said,
laughing in his
grave, burping. Don't cry, she
said, standing at the bed
smiling, lurking.
One face to the
world, one face
to yourself. One dream to
unfurl, one dream on a
shelf. This is all.
Trapped here nightly,
walking lightly
to a couch in the old
guest room. Sleep won’t come, so
it’s all night numb.
Louisville sits
on a river
crossed by bridges if you
jumped off of you’d die in
a swirl of foam.
Black guy standing
in line next to
me at Starbucks where I
used to ride bikes with us
white kids only.
Trapped in the Now
of golly gee
and Sham Wow. Release me
from time and I won't be
a mime or cow.
Trapped in the Now
of shimmering
light that can keep you wide
awake in a town where
everything's brown.
The real death of
radio comes
softly, like a feather
floating to rest on a
pile of shit.
I'm tired of
feeling tired.
The hamster wheel takes
a lot. Always pumping,
Always wired.
I'm tired of
feeling shitty
about myself. Gray skies,
empty checking account,
poor self image.
I'm tired of
feeling worn. It's
been that way since I was
born. Relief is forgiveness
away, they say.
I'm tired of
plastic people.
They're hard to destroy,
Easy to annoy, and
full of false ploy.
“I can do this.”
Haven’t you said
this to yourself only to
find that it isn’t true
at all, y’all?
Lonely dumpster
on a rainy
day. I would love to help
you out, but I gotta
be on my way.
Road Closed Ahead,
Rail Crossing Near.
Don't know which to fear more -
Locomotive death or
construction gore?
It's crystal clear
that you're not near
on a cloudless night but
for pricks in the sky of
my lonely eye.
Pipes on the road.
Someone lost his
load. There will be a crane
and some pain for the clown
who tied it down.
Her daffodils are
dying from an
April snowstorm that was
not supposed to get here
til November.
Even the snort
machines pretend
that the long struggle through
cold, rain and snow hasn't
been all that bad.
…..
Arrogance
We won’t hear his
laugh again. That hurts.
His laugh left you wanting
more, a respite from the
pounding sadness.
I don’t know how
he died, but if
how you live your life is
any indication,
he was ready.
“Touch my chest. Here.”
You could feel
his heart through a piece of
plastic. Beat beat, thump thump,
always laughing.
We started too
early. Barely
hair on our balls, we drank
and did drugs. Wampum,
Riverside Park.
He joins Chris, who
also had the
laugh. I am pissed that I
didn’t record their laughs.
I want to hear them.
They got caught in
the net. I got
out. And I feel pretty
guilty about that right now.
It could be me.
Instead, they’re in
the ground. Their moms
cry a little with a
morning cup of coffee
and newspaper.
I want to say
something to my
dead friends. Instead, I’ll tell
you – Sorry that I was
not a good friend.
I am sorry
that I didn’t
help rescue you. We started
together. You finished
it out alone.
When I get there,
you can both kick
my ass. I abandoned
you so that I could live.
Please forgive me.
…………….
Tell me about
your pain. Are we
the same? If we compare,
what will we uncover?
Your call, your game.
Island me, I
want to be free,
but Trump and A. O. C.
won't leave me be. In, or
get the fuck out.
Maple syrup
Golden waffles
Bacon sizzles, rain drizzles.
Eggs fried. Still don't know why
all three friends lied.
Cattails sway in
the wind by a
two-lane highway that leads
to a gas station that
is God's creation.
Words follow me
everywhere. I
can't get away from “duck,"
"scaffold," and "transgression."
“Truth” haunts me too.
Silent, scraping
leaves on a
sidewalk. I can see them
but not hear. It meant more
before the war.
Sunset over
St. Thomas More
parking lot... holding hands
with my wife makes me
happy for life.
Sun, moon, dots on
a table. Tell
me a joke, a poem, a
fabricated fable.
Please, just don't lie.
An invasive
Japanese grass
grows through the slats of an
old house that no
longer holds joy.
Can you carry
the weight of your
life? It's a lot to do.
If you can't, good for you,
But not your wife.
The beauty and
art of living
construction. At 4 you
wake, you can't bake, but look
what you can make.
Fighting to hold
a smile, only
for it to fade. I'd do
her frown, but that grin will
never get laid.
That Korean
place serves up a
barbecue sauce that makes
you want to whistle and
sniff your armpit.
Your back glistens
in the sun. You
are the one. I would do
anything to taste the
salt of your soul.
Move your foot, please.
It's touching me.
Now move your elbow. Mom,
he's touching me. He smells
and I hate him.
This whole life has
added up to
this one moment of MASH
reruns and a bowl of
plain Cheerios.
Maybe I will
feel better
later. But for now, for
having me, my mom, I
freakin hate her.
Illusion time.
It's not a crime
to lie to friends, or boast.
But if you try it in
public, you're toast.