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Hotel Room

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Sitting in this hotel room, waiting for the sun to rise.

Looking out across Portales, there’s not a single star in the sky.

I don’t know if she’s thinking of me, but I know I’m thinking of her.

All the times we never got it straight, all the times I didn’t put her first.

Sitting in this hotel room, tried but couldn’t fall asleep.

Spent all of my cash on Johnny, cause he’s a better man than me.

I don’t know if she’s thinking of me, but I know I’m thinking of her.

All the times we never got it straight, all the times I didn’t put her first.

It’s a long drive West.

And I’m on my own.

She said do your best.

Know you’re not alone.

Sitting in this hotel room, wondering if I made a mistake.

Gotta find what I’ve been missing, and bring it back to her to keep.

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)

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

Acting like you don’t know is an art in itself

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It’s hard

To see

Out this pit

Of despair

When you’re down

On your knees

In the cold

Summer air

And it’s hard

To conceive

Memories

When you care

Looking for

What you lost

In a house

Built of mirrors

And it’s hard

When you know

All of this

Is a joke

Convinced

Or exposed

Either way

There’s a host

To obey

Or believe

In what you

See in me

That’s alright

It’s ok

Sip your honey

and tea

I just thought

You should know

I don’t know—

Yeah I know

Tchotchke

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You read my sadness

Word for word

Like I’m a novelty

Then put me down

Back in my place

Some oldtime tchotchke—

And I wonder how it feels,

Window shopping too?—

From the corner of my gladness

To the outskirts of your sadness

Where nothing is for certain

And no one is to blame

Except we don’t glimmer anymore

Or sparkle like we used to—

Ornamental at our best

Tokens from another life

Tongues

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Myself or you

Who to believe?

Our tongues

Entwined

With poetry

The trail’s bare

Just fallen leaves

Our bread it’s stale

And crumbling

Proper Horrorshow

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Perhaps our first impression

is ultimately the last extension

of our false self—

primped and proper horrorshow—

doing any and everything

to impress upon the willing,

whether or not we recognize that self

is null and void of consequence

having fooled them all except

Ourselves.

Treason

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Call me by my medicine

not by my mistakes

It’s all I have to offer,

it’s all that I can take

Call me by your reasons

my reason not to stay

And let me be the treason

to help you walk away

Pen and Ink

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I can only dip my pen

so deep into the well

before it comes up dry

and thirsty for more.

Teen’s Wet Dream In The Sun

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There’s grass and flowers blooming

in Magnolia park

And this absent minded feeling

while the sky grows dark

Lily pads and grapefruit

growing in the yard

Fences form a fortress

full of dull remorse—

You left me standing idle

like a broke down car

Listening to Layla

watching shooting stars

Visions of Johanna

all just fell apart

Romanticized by healing

and those tarot cards—

Now I’m drinking nightly

at an empty bar

They gentrified the valley

and closed the bodega

I still see you smiling

from the bedroom floor

Hailing that taxi

with a broken arm—

A tincture of illusion

pressed beneath the tongue

Awakens the compulsion

to hold a smoking gun

There’s two sides to the story

I’ve got another one

The party’s in the distance

Teen’s wet dream in the sun