I tell myself stories
and create word pairings
like a master work of Rembrandt
picture perfect in a frame
but no matter my intention
good will is always marred
by Van Gogh’s lack of detail
or is it his mastery of the craft?
Destroying my art
one piece at a time.
Your finest work was not in oil,
it was in your blood.
Some of us
have it
and some
of us just don’t.
The ability
to do
what needs to be
done
all the while
suffering
for a possible
weekend of fun
or a cookie cutter
vacation,
one
that everyone’s been on.
Some of us
have it,
while others
must go out with a bang.
The more my browser
tells me it’s out of date
the more, out of date
I feel. Perhaps
it’s time for an update.
Perhaps, it’s time for a meal.
They
will
love
the generic
you,
the
you
they
feel safe
with,
and
look past
the
real you
who
might
spoil
their
fun.
He
felt
much
more
comfortable
in
the
company
of
strangers,
yet
still
searched
for
that
familiar
face
in
the
crowd.
I
believed
in
myself
once.
A
long
time
ago.
Perhaps
too
much.
Perhaps
not
enough.
Like
I
believed
in
you.
A
long
time
ago.
Perhaps
too
little.
Perhaps
too
much.
While
your
many
faces
spoke.
Such
awful
beauty
spewed.
All
that
time.
I
heard
nothing.
Believe
it
or
not,
I
really
believed
in
everyone.
Spitting
tea
leaves.
Before
Long
Island.
If you’re stuck in a hole,
remember:
Nobodies going to help you
longer than it pays.
Minimum wage doesn’t mean
livable wage.
And chances are,
they’re also knee deep.
So start digging.
I had this friend
who did nothing all day long
and this other friend
who never stopped moving.
So all day long
I sat and wondered about these two,
like wings of a dragonfly
my mind raced back and forth
up and down
turning them over like a pair of Jokers,
all day long,
sometimes, all night even.
Pacing back and forth
I never stopped moving
contemplating everything
which turned into nothing.
Words Of An Average White Male 