Retreading the Same Damn Sinking Story

Thick, dark, sweet fluids
(or so I picture them in my head).
The subdued practice of feeling.

Feet up on a ratty plaid sofa
left out in the rain, collecting
moths and mildew - it
smells like home. White
fluff puffing out from the
crusty cushions like cotton
boils ready to pop and ooze.

I'm a disease. As certain as
one may be in this gripe age.
Clinging to dreams of fleeting
memories still suspended in the
musty air of a Michigan basement.

A skipped rock sunk in the bottom
of Lake Huron, a westward wind
gesturing toward a life ahead of me...
if only I wasn't so far behind.

I'm the 'no means' Messiah,
giving it all to be crucified on
my cross to bear:

To be the tortured artist,
yet holds all the tools of platitude.
To be starving,
yet always insists being full.
To be misunderstood,
yet always unsure of himself.

The conclusion came to me
in a fever dream of angels and
demons playing cowboys and
indians in the scorched
pasture past the screaming forest:

I remember her posture, how
distressed she appeared bellowing
at her face sinking to the
ocean floor so far below.

The complexion I fished for,
so dark and deep, kept me honest
as I gazed at the reflection glaring
back at me. My resolution held
firm, I damned these thoughts to
depths deeper than the face
that once belonged to despair.

I awoke in my bed,
wondering only now
who it was that I allowed to drown.

Born of Fury, My Child

Paternal dreams,
the recluse of my grandiosity.
Flipping through channels,
dead batteries in my clicker.
(Antiquated references be damned!)

She's flushing her destiny down
the drain. Tears, vomit, ill will.
She's weeping now,
weeping now,
weeping now.

The TV set is broken.

Weeping now,
weeping now,
Weeping now.

There's a sweaty ball cap
sitting on the chipped oak post
on my edge of the bed.
It's blue and red all over.
To no one's delight, it was for
the One never delivered.

A solitary tear.
Eye contact, a breach
of rules solemnly kept in tact.

Brown eyes, window to the soul.
Blue eyes, some will never meet.
Brown eyes, shutting now.
Blue eyes...someday, somehow.

Brown eyes, weeping now.