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Rudimentary Silence

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Only in the slightest

Contradictions find us

Taking a piss in the back of a waiting

Rudimentary silence

Little acts of violence

Testing the waters like leaving the bathtub

Full of standing water

Babies left to wander

Dipping our beaks in a pool not so shallow

Now—

Actions without reason

God I’ve got this feeling

Down like the old folks whose tennis balls are wearing out

Obligations find us

Contradictions bind us

Tight like a truckers hitch secured to nothin but

Ourselves if we’re willing

To hold someone who’s willing

To kick the creator for all the stupid shit we’ve been through

Now—

Everybody wants their own way

Standing on clouds there’s no reason to shout out loud

When everybody gets their own way

I can guarantee somebody won’t be pleased (laugh out loud)

Happily Ever After

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Now that everyone’s

Happily Ever After

I’ll close this Fairy Tale

Grimm—

whose endings never fail—

climbing locks of gold

to a window made of stone

willing to trust fall

blindly and be done—

listening for tears

to help me see again.

Santa Monica

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I guess we drank wine, I don’t recall but a Polaroid tells me we did.

I lost track of time, all around me the world continued to spin.

Not like you were mine, I just talked to you when you came around.

I guess it was kind, of like two kids on a merry-go-round.

You wrote me a letter, from Santa Monica in June.

You said you felt better, and that you thought I’d like it too.

Come in December, and we could write poems in the park.

Then there was that blizzard, that left New York alone in the dark.

I was alone in the dark.

I guess that it’s time, to burn these memories you left behind.

I never did find, a more honest friend or a beautiful mind.

I hope that you found, the world that you set out to see.

And know that I’ll be, singing this from across the sea.

friends from strangers

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Now I make my friends from strangers

who hardly ever consider my passing,

who instead make plans to bullshit

and practice talking casually in the park.

Hollywood Boulevard

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Nobody seems to notice the homeless

Except the little girl

Piggy backing her fathers shoulder

Slouching, down Hollywood Boulevard

French New Wave Lifestyles

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She seemed relatable

like a French new wave film—

Her hair was tangled by

the absence of the thrill—

My mind fell blind in the dark

each movement felt removed

In black and white it all looks like

some senseless noir doom.

Descending ladders with a

backwards forward view—

Replaced reminders taken

for some other you—

She stepped calm in the light

another foreign move

In black and white it all seems like

you just might make it through.

Now there’s a towel on the floor

white as a dove

Transcending shadows as if

orders from above

The clock just turns and spins

a spiral of what’s lost

In black and white it all feels like

we’re dying to be caught.

In black and white it all looks like

there’s nothing to turn off.

a single string of hope

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Every single line, you know

Is a single string of hope

Tied tightly like a bow

Let go like a balloon

For every single addict—to see

From his lonely corner sidewalk

To the comfort of her goose down

From the Tetons to the sea

The Price You Pay For Being Born

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A couple days of patience

and a miners rest, she’s

Sleeping like a baby

in her Sunday’s best, I

didn’t wake her up

I was too forlorn, but

That’s what you get for being born—

I was taking out the trash

like the other weak, with

The temper of a mime

I began to speak, when

She woke she’d a fever

and a thousand words, I

Guess I’d spoken them all before—

Must be something in the water

cause I’m overboard, with

The seaweed and the starfish

dried out on the shore, it’s

Nothing I would suggest

drowning in a well, it’s

Just a way to be by yourself—

She dreamt of her family

from the outer space, and

Gave me a healing

full of peace and grace, but

I took it for granted

like most lovers do, it’s

Loud as hell in this quiet room—

Words form a meaning

if you spin them right, it’s

Like turning hay to gold

if it’ll save your life, so

Leave the baby in the basket

wrapped by your front door, it’s

The price you pay for being born—

Where Praying Mantis Lay

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There’s something bout the Summer

that makes this all ok, yet something

bout the Winter that

would have me feeling grey—

Like the cement of a tombstone

or the flowers of decay

In Springtime there’s a forward march

No Fall back plan could save—

Perhaps it’s in the heatwave

that makes this all ok, or perhaps

it’s the chemistry

where praying mantis lay

A Delicate Cage

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What I release to the night

Let’s me wake in the morning

Where I’m light as a feather

And stiff as a board

Oblivious to the slow dying

That I keep in a delicate cage

With just enough space

And water

And love—to survive