hoo ra

memories are cheap
so it's no wonder I sit around remembering
like a prince i passed judgment
on the pastimes crumpled like a wad
of would-you-be-mine
and if it were the time for celebrating
I'd raise an empty glass and chuck it
across the tracks 'cause I see no cause
for calamity except the contradictions
constricting me, signing my name
on the kiss-crossed line
in hopes that I will be released
from my daily contract

well don't you love me
mirror mirror quit stalling
I am taking out a policy on you
expecting a splinter so deep
to puncture my nosebone
making a modern Flinstone outta me
dude I wish I was that punk
man I wish that this funk
was only temporary but it seems
more likely that it's just something
I'm gonna haffta graft to myself
and make it an accessory,
a feature length memory

c'mon up you shady nasties
I got a pretty, a pretty, a pretty
noose for you
doesn't matter what you are
if you've got the feel
of a night-terror then I'm sure
you're terrible and that
is reason enough to celebrate
seeing you sway like a curtain
of beads in the doorway
get outta my way

just a partridge
in the patriarchy
trynna evolve into an animal
worth feeding

Collision

my throat is in ribbons
from the dozen cigarettes
saving me daily

one throat for a lifeboat
I'd say that's fair trade
I'd say I've got it made

now I watch the burning
bridge jump back
from the water

now the grass
begins to show

these days I draft up
my dark blueprints
with the stubbornness
of the sea

thinking maybe I should
have been an architect

these days have been
like a cigarette— feels good,
and killing me

Petra

How will we ever know

the right choice,

when choice cracks

under the weight 

of every course delayed?

The grooves

in your hand

will never be moved.

Your fingers
grip the wire
and fall into
petals,

from
your kindness

stems a rage

that will one day
blossom whole.

And so you roll.

And so you roll.

It's all good and not enough

Look, none of us asked to be shafted this way.

Wanna know why the minnow bucket looks so alive? They're all trying to forget how to swim, and I've got nothing for 'em except a head full of bigger fish to fry.

Silly lil' fish, you are so funny, why can't you just die?

Look. Maybe I'm not so smart or strong. Maybe playing pretend was all I picked up on. Maybe.

I am in a bad way, coming off 22-jump already street, hesitating before traffic, feeling something cold in my stare that condenses my inner fluff.

Look, as I said, it's all good but I have had enough of this grind, enough grinning and bearing, it’s become a chore to chew by now, and this mounting burden of knowledge is crushing me. My verses come up short on breath. The birds gather to split the bread.

So many smiles take their turn to pull me out of the wreck... perfumes push me away from the edge, that look in the eye, that momentary salute, that call to arms of embrace that shakes me, the twinkling voices that wake me. The slope is more pronounced each day. I mope for lack of trustworthy hope.

Look— I do not entrust these thoughts to you. I am hoping quite openly that these thoughts die

by allowing them to live forever and ever.

Have you ever asked for mercy? really asked? Look I had a vision of myself by now as being this appropriately frustrated, as being this appropriately appropriated, as being used and screwed, as being the fool, as being so hopelessly behind, as being more than a probable statistic, as being more than all that I am. But this— this was not what I ordered.

God, how I am continuing.

My images have conspired in vain.
I am drunk with the absinthe of absence. I am screaming at my insides to give it up. My insides want so bad to stir it up. I think I might die very lonely. I think there is that something which emboldens me to search a while longer, but do I know it already?

What is this fine line I'm walking to get at the point? What is this here that defeats my purpose? What is this fear?