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

Is Anyone Still Reading?

Rigid, ruthless, and
ravenous
Heaven hasn't
honored hourly
haven
In which
Condescending
Cuckolds castrate
Cowardly cretins
The lord laughs
Loudly
Without worlds
Worth weight
Sorry saves savage
Sexual saviors softly
and sickly
Alliteration allows
assholes to allocate
allowances
at angels' angry \
adult apathy

(I get it)

Terrible Jot Laments

Never ever recover,
Recovery, recovering.

Shaking the habitual
with the help of a pill,
or the bottom of new obsessions.

It's that continuum,
An ideal way to cure him.

We're sorry this happened,
it was our duty to mend.
But brother, you've got to bend.

Gravity keeps us grounded,
you chose a tougher swallow.

The trust will be waiting
for you to find something
as patience dissolves.

The Poem Formerly Known as "C*** Sucker"

The phones are bleeding
The utensils are dropping
Clanging, banging, squirting
Right onto the sheets
Love making time
Piling up
To a life so mundane
Mustering excitement
From a clean domain
Reconsider this life
Pictures are being sewn into quilts
A patchwork of the past
A little bit tacky
But thoughtful all the same
It's just the names
That can't be claimed