I can’t quite make it out
but I can feel it giving way
to the pressure of my fingers
I can feel that joyful squish
Tag: writing
Chipping scabs, touching stars
dancing on floor made of
cracked and splintered bone
skin stretched thin
scarred pink and white
I can forsake you too
two devil’s on my shoulder
both on one side
one sat down, gently
with grandpa’s big smile
Careless with fire
there are bridges i’ve burned because I didn’t want to be followed and there are bridges I’ve burned because I was careless with fire.
Filmed poem – The heart slaps along
The heart slaps along
To the scavenger
write as a vulture;
Decent and good parents
And his lover
having had decent
and good parents
will reply,
Someone is listening
There is a man
crossing the street
talking to himself
or
I’ve literally written a poem
I’ve literally written
a poem
You’ve literally read
a poem
I don’t want to smoke
I don’t want to smoke
and I sneak away
to coffee shops
and think about smoking
Now I have the time
Now I have the time
to pay attention to the names
of musicians
both living and dead
I know a great writer
I know a great writer
but you don’t
her greatness is planted
in not knowing, not
Teddy bear
Teddy bear
picking seam
removing fluff
piling up
Teddy there
And I want to be the king of my castle
And I want to find words that aren’t in a book
And I feel too much pain will allow me to look
It was the times
And
I write them out
So plainly
Too quickly
Youthful Beauty
The pianist’s fingers bleed
for the raised voice
recognition
of barfly’s and
passersby
Pulling down words
Follows
Gravity
Mixed
Literal
I tried to bet the ponies
I tried drinking
Like Hemingway
But the loneliness was unbearable
Forced words
A train not even crashing
No explosion
Just quietly retiring
Off the tracks
If you’re lucky enough
And if you let yourself go
you’ll bloom in a shimmering galaxy
of golden hair
And it’s in my chest
And I keep pressing down
And I think of a pianist
And I want to make music
And I hate the things my fingers leave
And I make noise
The pianist
And the pianist
Presses
Amazing Grace
The sky is mottled with pregnant clouds
The sky is mottled with pregnant clouds
Contractions of wind huff harder and harder
Trees protest throwing down leaves
And still I stay outside
Tomorrow I leave on a road trip
I’m 35
We know each other’s vices
We’re driving to the deserts of the Midwest
We’ll see strip malls
gas stations
fast food
On our way to beauty
Float, Volcano, Marathon
Finger through tar race chariots of fire
One view, two views, three views, four
One like, two likes, then no more
Die, Mug, Silence
The waitress stopped at the coffee maker and began reloading her pot. She glanced back at his table; the mug still locked in his hand.
Sleep, Store, Offense
The setting and characters shifted. The clacking bones and whirring lenses morphed into the strange noises coming from all the people in the marketplace.
Confusion, Mosque, Slow
Opening his arms at everyone coming toward him didn’t seem to be effective, if anything, they walked faster and made an obvious turn to avoid him.
Outlook, Violation, Thumb
Lemuel looked down at his first tattoo, a small black lemon on his right wrist. Made from the ink of octopi and squid pulled up, boiled down and inked by the “daubers”.
Insist, Nap, Meaning
Of swirling dust, giant tumbleweeds, snorting horses, distant gunshots, crying children and a woman’s embrace.
Today
She wore the band t-shirt I gave her before COVID cancelled the concert. I wore the band shirt she gave me the night before I wouldn’t see her for weeks after.
Homophones
It is dark in the morning.
It is dark in the mourning.
And my youth is…
Let it be
in the silent scream
of a shooting star.
Is Jesus coming before the Police?
A shitty Korean car idles in a closed garage. A special snorkel from exhaust to cracked window helps the old man understand the punchline.
Of grunting and groaning
I got up in the middle of the “debate” to roll back the sliding glass door to the back yard. My dogs ran out and sniffed for their spots in the dust patch I call a yard.
Ages 12 & Up
There is no action that adds without subtracting or subtracts without adding. The idea that one is good and the other is bad is simply another part of the same vagaries we all maintain.
Memories
If what I think is true then ill have a cigarette, hell ill have a black and mild and suck it back until it melts the plastic or burns the wood.
Orion’s Belt
“You see that star right in the middle of Orion’s belt? That’s where Jesus is right now. That’s where He (capital H) is going to come from to take us home. That’s where heaven is.”
Parental Advice Versus the advertising industry
Advice. The combination of advertisements and vice. The persuasion of vice on the platforms of advertisements.
Golf
It was true. In those moments however, when those men came with the full knowledge that we had not come close to anyone in the tournament, I wanted to play to win. Fuck fun, I wanted murder.
Blackout Drinking
My threshold for surprise is changing right before my eyes, which are going blind. Oh god pull over now. Jesus. Ive never felt worse in my life.
Night writing
A lonely moonlit bassoon plays discordant notes in my mind. Sympathy bangs the timpani and I scowl.
Telling Dad I drink too much
Hey dad, I think I drink too much.
A lunch from a long time ago
A lunch with my Aunt in which I cannot clearly remember if I was intoxicated or not. I remember itching for a cigarette as soon as I wolfed down the turkey salad on rye.
Shitstorm
Blackout. Either way alcohol nurtures society but absolutely obliterates the individual.
You or me
And so, remember, I wrote this under a yellow porch light, slapping at mosquitoes, coughing up smoke from wild fires and thinking of me or you, or me.
The Fool’s Pleading
The echoes of rejoicing muted by the island’s sands. Drowned by waves of realization that we are sound itself reverberating off of infinity’s pretzel-ed pipe.
Social Security
The castles moved straight,
the horses made hooks
as the black and white shapes met their fate.
