Simple Arithmetic

I think in fractions
with my half mind.

Though this math
tells me I will
never measure up
to the man you think
I am,
divide me neatly
so you can see
these jagged pieces
add up to someone
who will give you so
much more than the
sum of his parts.

love as sure as i + u = 2

Live From Detroit II

1969, The MC5 take arms and demand,
kick out the jams, motherfuckers!

Punk rock, the boot to the neck
of flower power's soul trippin hedonism.
Born in the wake of a culture
Manson brought to its knees.
Enter the Blank Generation.
Noisy dickhead, art trash.

Iggy Pop rolls in broken glass
slurring the chorus to I Wanna Be Your Dog

Primal nihilism,
never meant to mean anthing
so says the prophetic junkie.
I spent a season in hell
to offer Rimbaud a blowjob.
Poetry in the modern,
fleshy and raw. mumbled
over the hum of blown-tube
amplifiers and static blast
of cheap out of tune guitars.

Venus in Furs drones hypnotically
through Warhol's Factory.
Lou Reed scowls. 

Civil society left you
blue in the face
red on the wrist, fingerprints
where convention held tight.
You've met your heroes
gracefully slumped over a toilet
or the back booth of a nightclub.
Effigies of excess, strung up,
strung out, planted in the ground.
Little flowers sprouting from their arms.

From her pulpit, Patti Smith spits her sermon, 
Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine. 

All the dysfunctional children,
filthy and unclean, tracing
the grooves of old records
with calloused fingertips.
Aspiring to achieve expression
in its purest form.
Art and anger,
an alchemy divine,
rawness, what it means to be alive.

Black Xs, a badge of honor.
An American hardcore is born. 

It's funny how
everything works out.
You can break all the rules
while seeing the world in red
but get played all the same when
all they see is gray and green.

Even the most dangerous minds
wind up on T-shirts sometimes.

Cobain said,
Punk rock should mean freedom.
Freedom from co-opting movements,
perverting bands into brands,
statements into slogans,
riot girl to please sit down, girl.
Images sterilized,
flaw and fury wiped clean
placed neatly in a vacuum,
sacrificing potency for profits.

Cobain said,
Punk rock should mean freedom,
the freedom to say,
Fuck You.

Father's Day

Like any other day,
it's Father's Day,
like any other day.
Like a Monday,
a Tuesday,
Wedding bells
on a Thursday.
Fireflies in mason jars,
Saturday's weight
measured in moments
waiting for the sun,
like any other day.

Limpdick Lampshade Proposal

I have one fear in life:
Inevitably writing the same poem
over and over and over and over
with each piece reaching
the same. fucking. conclusion.

however
the feeling remains the same
expectations are raised
the crowd is now restless
they want something
something I can't provide
the show the intimacy the wow
for christ sake
let me have this
the infatuation with tragedy
condemnation of all those
just like me
but isn't it great
no one can invade my conscience
to me you're what and who
i want you to be
the saint the savior
the martyr the victim

I have one fear in life:
Inevitably writing the same poem
over and over and over and over
with each piece reaching
the same. fucking. conclusion.

Black Sheep

Who are you now?
I can't tell, it must be the change of face.
But how I remember this place,
when I felt free,
you were so radiant.

We laughed and drank in moonlight,
I held you by the pond.
At daybreak you broke away and smiled,
"Thanks, for nothing."

I smiled back and went on my way.

Last Poem

I'm trying in vain 

to erase you from

these pages, but to

my chagrin you've

etched yourself in. 

Invest in my flesh.

You've left your mark

again and again, 

scarring me in the same

way as if I never wanted

to heal in the first place.  

I hope you're satisfied

with the mess I've made.

When I sleep you're 

hanging over bad dreams,

begging to be followed

to the gallows.

I can't forget.

I can't forget. 

I can't forget,

no matter how little I've tried. 

I told you I loved you,

this is how I show it. 

It's been raining since you left.

She said, finally, it's over,

devouring me whole. 

I'm still reeling from digestion. 

Association

Lampshade inspiration
Cigarette ashes
Makeshift ashtrays

For the camels I shepherd

Swirling smoke

Awkward glances

Underage drinking

Vices

Self-deprication

The walk-off-come-find-me gag

Isolation

All habits I support

Hatred

Lamentation

Depression

Saturday Night