The Mid-Terms are Coming

Sigh season

cling to ballots
vote no Ebola

empty tacky
talking head

mouth-breathers
painting a picture

saturated with
oxygen urine

feces and saliva

REM

In dreams: wake up
Your breathing soft, rhythmic
as leaky faucet keeping me
awake at night

The oak looming overhead
casts no shadow

Your hand placed on my chest
keeps us alert, anxious
at any moment it may burst

I feel you circulating

A brief moment of excitement-
you turnover, sigh deeply
This isn't working 

Sleep paralysis:
I'm on a couch, shifting
and itching to hear
soft steps on the stairs

Your voice breaks the void

Adult life:
Calls to make
Bills to pay
Mouths to feed

The shifting and itching
never ceases

Free Right

Okay so here's something weird:
hallucinations. These damn things
actualizing lunging out portals.
stinky, sticky, primordial goo
dripping off dark, crusted lips

Immediately demons
begin their dance: stretching,
contorting their bodies over
white walls turning black,
elastic, and moist.

Walls changing color. Red, blue,
yellow, orange, in cycle. Patterns
emerging, now deaf, soft
glow emanates from still visible
teeth on the walls like stars.

Blood stains the unconsumed
carpet. Bloodstains take a life
its own, forming words and
growing hair. Performance
now over, clap clap clap.

I cannot speak/I have no mouth.
I cannot hear/I have no ears.
I cannot see/I have no eyes.
I cannot touch/I have no limbs.
I cannot breath/ ....

This movement is senseless.
There is no time.

Acronym Thing

I ride angst waves

with hopes they'll 

carry me to a 

land of riches,

bitches, and pussy.

But really,

I would love sleep.

You're Suicidal

Disorder shook the walls
as it manifested in the
image of a woman,
now blonde and close.

I unknowingly reached
out to her, she
accepted and began
her new exercise.

She noticed I
noticed her new
habit. She assured me
this one isn't fatal.

Now dirty blonde,
she sits at my
desk. I'm shrinking
in my cool.

Lastly, a dark-haired
boy alone in his room.
She may be losing it,
She may be standing.

I'm still alone.

That Time of the Year

Freak Season:
Despondent mothers,
Bratty Teenagers,
Shady ex-cons,
All wandering our city.

The circus left town,
But wouldn't you know it?
They took me with them!
Follow my trail of peanuts,
And meet me in Babylon.

Dock Guy

I'm sitting here at work listening to Nirvana which reminds me how I've been locked in your heart shaped box for weeks but anyway I'm at work sitting here watching the dock while Adam goes and eats something from across the ditch and I'm just sitting here at work biding my time until an SUV zooms up with rusty cracked musty junk requesting a receipt to present during tax season because charity has a price and altruism is superficial if you ask me and I'm just sitting here writing and waiting and thinking and wondering which rope in the dock area is the sturdiest as I sit and think and wait and contemplate what Adam is having for lunch from across the ditch

Word View

A poem for the new age.
Condensed, stuff in
pretty packaging.
Unknown consequences.

Eyes follow same
way as format,
style, organization;
laments bemoaning exercise.

Brick view
world. Concealed
from emptiness outside,
wind blow permitting.

Only to sleep
one more night.

Goodnight Sweet Surrealist Prince

(1940-2014)

Personal Ad

Potatoes sprouting
from the couch
made a nice meal
for the ladybug
in my shoebox -
I admire her appetite.

New Door

Drooling god
sniffing at
the doorway.

This one
isn't unusual.

This one
casts the
same shadow
as the
other dogs.

I stopped.

I will
walk past
this god
and take
my first
real breath
outside this
lonesome hole.

That dog
will follow
bury bones
sniff privates
carry on.

Short Sentence

The whine from
the cellar ceased,
but there's an
echo from a jailer's
clanging keys and
the rattling of bars
from a prisoner
pleading to be freed.

Spite

Does anyone know where

I can find some creativity?

Happy Birthday, Kurt!

I can honestly say that Kurt Cobain is the most influential man in my life. It's time to let you guys know that I am unoriginal and everything I've ever said or done is just derived from something Kurt said or did. The last chorus of "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" gives me chills every damn time I hear it. 

Goodnight Sweet Prince II

(1994-2014) 

So it goes.

Live From Detroit

I
Lords of punk rock.
Fathers of rebellion.
Conscious of syringe
affliction. Noisy
dickhead posture.

The charade is
likely tiring;
Purple hair,
Purple coats,
Purple chords.

Mini-van for hire
to chauffeur ambition
of young-old formula,
sold to commodity
consumers in suburb
mall Americaland.

II

It's funny how
everything works out.

Heroes die young,
or they become the
same old crack
in the shattered mirror.

The one you picked
up the pieces for.
The one you cut
your wrists for.

Culture left you
blue in face,
red in wrists,
with fingerprints
where contention held.

Punk rock:
all the filthy,
unclean,
dysfunctional,
dead children
inspired by black/white
photographs.
Aspiring
to be expression
in their purest form.

III
You are the howl.
Still piercing in a
dark, dilapidated
basement, existing
in disembodied fury.

You are the trauma.
Shattering the bones
we'd use like toothpicks
to dislodge echos
from our teeth.

You are the dissonance.
The inhumane growl
erupting between
sound and silence.

You are the sound.
You are the silence.
You are the color.

Shorts (1)

How is it
God's gift to writing
can't even be bothered
to show up to church
on a Sunday?




Profound thoughts
come and go.
Some weren't meant
to put in prose nature-
but the nature of themselves.
Heavy-handed and bored-
I went outside today.

Home

Let loose leverage's noose,
give way to kinder embrace.
Youth exuberance
unfit to grow in hangman's tow.
Run to gentler homes - play.
No concern to
Hangman's forceful decay.
Ignore black, putrid mold,
growing on walls, ceiling.
Don't inhale oxygen,
heavy with regret.
In time inevitability's touch,
grabbing softly and warm,
father, brother,
indifference sweet sisters.
Love all the same.

Goodnight Sweet Prince

"Her life is in your hands, Dude." 

1967-2014

Brr

Winter's embrace.
She doesn't care,
Like old, witch grandmother,
Uncomfortable, overstays welcome.
Anticipating her death.

The Least Important Part

Not knowing the magic words
That make her face light up,
Just like the microwave we'd watch,
Eagerly awaiting the popcorn we'd devour
To our once favorite movies
That we never watched.

There's chances given
To hopeless situations.
Then there's pulling the plug
On functioning lamps.
Blacking out rooms,
With shadows glued on the walls.

This love will never be convenient,
But neither are the broken appliances
Slug over the sweetest shoulder
That my affection grew.

If you're tossing this lamp,
I only ask you check the bulb.
I'm light,
And my shade is worth the time.

Jean

Today I fumbled with my words
when asked about my day,
from a kind old lady
who all I could think of
was how her life is withering away
talking in vain to a product
of a world astray.
Before the humbling wrinkles
on her face could gasp "okay",
she grabbed my throat
and ended the charade.

Clerks

Ashtray inspiration
drug induced sanity
keeps the wolves at bay
sniffing for any trace
of life inside this sock drawer

Pack me
Hit me
Smoke me
Then Unceremoniously flick me
With the rest of the roadkill

I can't promise you
Health
Fine teeth
or Fits of rage
I'll be your crutch
Inhale/Exhale reflex
the Worst Addiction

Let me be your habit
I can contain
Sustain
Refrain you
From your worst mistakes
The dirtiest oxygen
You'll ever breathe