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I woke up today
glad that I did
with crippling
back pain and
Tylenol fix
but as I sit here now
heat pack in place
hardly able to walk
drink without chase
—karma’s a bitch—
but I’m glad I woke up
if just now to say
I’m glad I woke up
regardless the pain.
You can’t win
because it’s life
and there’s
nothing to win
just death
and then
whatever it is
you believe
will happen next.
For me I’ll be
reincarnated
to live
another life.
I just hope it’s
as strange
and weird
and cruel
and wonderfully
disastrous as
this one.
Maybe one
with less love
and more
true love.
Maybe not.
It’s been a long
sour day
that I’ve been
sucking on
Cracking
my teeth
chewing rocks
and trying
to care
I’m better than this
but as I said
it’s been a long
sour day
Looking forward
to tomorrow
tonight even
for something sweet.
All of us
buried deep
in our private little worlds
so sure that
something
is bound
to give.
The sun is warm on my face
grey shadow upon wood grain
stuck somewhere between
sympathy and harmony
with the universe
and where a headache should be
there is none
and where a heart should be
there is stone
and where I should be
there is shadow
alone and warm and aware
cast too across wood grain with
the closing doors of another work shift.
3:08
and I’m happy.
Not the smiling sort of
tell-all happy but
the breathing in the moonlight
kind of easiness,
just being, barely conscious
and willing to be free.
And
it’s 3:12 now
and shit,
you know how it goes.
They had me at goodbye
as they always seemed to die
slow like a rose
one day jubilant and alive
then like sleep goes the week
and it’s noticed that the rose
has died. But see, I kept them there
all wilted and decayed
brown and crumpled I’d debate
taking them to the trash
throwing them away, though
a rose in its youth is beautiful
so too is a rose left to dry.
So I pressed them between pages
and drew a pretty picture
poured ink from my memory
so that even in death
they’d remain
alive.
I never met an artist I didn’t like
I just tasted their breathe
from an arms length away
and
when they told me drunkenly
to go to hell
at least I knew they meant it
so while she tore off her clothes
like a caged animal
in the center of a Williamsburg high-rise
a slave to her own bizarre fashion
I could see it there, her passion
exhibited like a gallery of fine art
and her hair
painted in oils hyper-realistic
she would drive herself wild
though couldn’t quite blend her canvas
into the madness she became
hysterical so
closing the cage I left
knowing
there wasn’t more I could do
than allow her the respect and dignity
to clean up her own mess.
Never had a bad intention
I just always made some bad decisions
that usually got way out of hand
and discredited my good intent
though looking a bit harder now
I guess I was just angry and confused
and figuring it out the best I knew how
given time, place, and circumstance
I mean I was just 16 then 19 — 23 then 25
now 31 doesn’t feel so old, in fact
I feel much younger than my former self
ready to dive back into that season of change.
My eyes burn
with exhaustion
scanning the airport
for any sign of life
though heads down turned
there is none
just a few lone stragglers
who look around
the same as I
unwilling to accept the courtesy
of pleasant conversation
we remain
strangers
and
strangers to ourselves.
Words Of An Average White Male 