oh, what the hell, you’re not going to fucking read this anyway

“all my friends got flowers in their eyes

but i got none this season

all of last year’s blooms have gone and died

but time don’t give a reason” – adam duritz

 

you want to talk

no, actually you want me to listen

and by my listening make you relevant

then leave me to lick my wounds

 

i’m suppose to swoon

show my love by suffering for you

give all

work my fingers to the bone

when it kills me and you are alone

my body is not even cold

as you yell, “next?”

 

because the context

is your happiness

all is defined

by my towing the line

 

(oh do you wonder who i’m talking about?

are you female?

well strut and pout

and tell me it isn’t true)

 

love is defined by my pleasing you

and when i go fetal

need a crutch to help me stand

suddenly i’m not your kind of man

and how quickly you can sift the sand

and find the grain that goes according to plan

 

oh, but i’m not talking about you

you’re man gets everything that is due

in fact, you give so much he actually owes you

can i say right now?

“FUCK YOU!”

 

“surely he’s not writing about me

my man doesn’t need to bleed

well, only when i cut him

because i need him to prove his love

by being my sacrificial dove

who i will toss from the altar

the second another one fulfills

the terms of my ritual sacrifice”

 

appease her

and guess what

you get to be something with which

she is never truly satisfied

 

oh she’ll upload the post

she’s the banquet and you’re the host

until the next round of hunger pains

when she needs to feed

a vampire wanting you to bleed

voluntarily

 

until you’re a carcass to be tossed aside

replaced by the next needy guy

but don’t worry she will need you

to cover her like the sky

until you can no longer reach her horizon

then within your inability she will be justified

in saying goodbye

 

***

 

 

 

the loneliness of listening

“for the mists are the memories of the gods” – H. P. Lovecraft

 

hold back from me everything that you are

and i will hide the scars

that debris the functionality of my frame

 

to converse without blame

unfulfilled fantasy

 

people perceive the center of the universe

agrees with their location

extricate expectation as if the universe

was an act of will

and not random atoms colliding

 

i am a plethora of platitudes

your tongue and attitude

obligate the divine

“why is everything i want not mine?

and what are you going to do about it?”

 

i swallow solitude like a mind altering drug

far away from you

and all that you view

 

close my eyes and count the stars

the constellations and quasars

so close and yet so far

that even a man of devout faith

had to ask after their consideration,

“what is man, that thou art mindful of him?

and the son of man, that thou visitest him?

 

you speak like a babbling creek

i inhabit insignificance

the milky way with its creamy filling

could dissolve in the mouth of the gods

and the universe would not even blink

 

the universe has passed its prime

and in effect is now dying

i endure your crying and chatter

over things that will never matter

 

while telescopes view a light that left

a galaxy 13.8 billion years ago

 

its journey was slow

because light can only travel at its own speed

and nothing else can travel as fast

only relative to

 

and 13.8 billion years

is a long time to travel

in the cold confines of space

 

so ignore the blank look on my face

the gratuitous nods

my darting eyes looking for an escape

from your perception populated with promise

 

so i can return to the relaxation

of remembering it’s all a retinal view

relative to your realizations

where i realize in the expanding expanse

of this universe’s glance

this tiny blue dance doesn’t matter

 

***

 

 

 

Bleeding in shark infested waters

     Over the past few weeks I’ve had some insight into myself. I’ve come to see just how much I am filled with self-loathing and its influence on my behavior. I may not be self-loathing with alcohol right now, but being sick while withdrawing from Paxil and feeling sick while trying to adjust to Wellbutrin plays into my need to punish myself. Also pushing myself to get into shape with obsessive jump-roping that leaves me exhausted and incredibly sore is more motivated by self-loathing than any positive intent. On the flip side of this is how others aren’t seeing that (although I don’t really know why that is always so important). I had learned long ago with my parents that it didn’t matter what was true it only mattered what they believed was true to lessen the reasoning for their justification for abuse and now I have turned that childhood lesson into a world view of perceptual reality. To others it seems as if I am improving by exercising, not drinking, seeing doctors, but I will purposely skip meals just so I can punish myself with hours of hunger pains. Well, I do not believe knowledge is power because existentialists do not have solutions to their personal dilemmas; we can only go around quoting Marcus, “There is no rhyme or reason to this life. Its days like these scattered amongst the rest.”

 

***

 

when God changed channels

i put down the years of beers

poured out the rest of the whiskey

 

i just don’t feel like being drunk

but sobriety has not filtered my soliloquy

 

i step onto the highest point in the city

so i can stare at the black emptiness above

turn up the techno dark

light a smoke

and blow into the changing stream of breeze

 

tomorrow i will wake up

drink coffee

jump rope for an hour

then smoke too many cigarettes

quite simply because i’m bored

 

i will occupy with self-loathing

punishing myself

with the onslaught of hunger pains encompassing

and let them

 

the stars do not twinkle

the ice does not melt

and i’m a plethora of oscillations

either thinking nothing

or thinking there is nothing

 

measuring time by the number of butts

in the ashtray

and the number of crushed empty packs

in the trash

 

today i watched a young man

wasted on whatever

foraging through an industrial ash tray

for cigarettes with more than a butt

like a kid who’s found the candy jar

indifferent suits walked by

 

i looked up at the sky

for a different perspective

turned up the dark wave

that puts the dance in my feet

pulled out my pack of smokes

hesitated

put them back in my pocket

pulled them back out

lit one

blew into the indifferent blue

obscured by acceptable levels of smog

and walked into the undeveloped

negative of this night

where at the highest point i light

another cigarette with the end of one

turn around and start walking down

while thinking of the compliment

i got today on my novel Carefree Highway

 

i have three more in my head

but they are too happy to write

and the sad stories are waiting below

on the dark streets of decay

 

***

 

 

 

all the lessons learned of love

sometimes the images that dance deep within my mind

remain the only images that i alone can find

the point is whether right or wrong she was my only mother

and all the lessons learned of love i learned it from no other

 

and yes i know it was abuse the things she said and did

but she was still my mother and i was but a kid

and so within my mind it seems that all of this creates

all of these images within i only can translate

into a language that convinces me that i am loved

i do not need your tenderness or cooing like a dove

for through demands and punishments and forced obedience

is how i feel that i am loved and simply nothing less

 

and yes my mind can understand the origin and the cause

but it’s my heart that feels the love and only will give pause

to a woman who needs to be the one who’s in control

the more she is the more i feel the love down in my soul

 

***

lingering in the lyric of you

a myriad of flaws cling to me with claws

i wait for you to waver and finally withdraw

i’ve rarely been employed at bringing you much joy

you’re looking for a man but only find the boy

you think will run away and rather would not stay

i’m painting this with pen in effort to allay

 

kiss me and you’ll know i’m still in love with you

a kiss is just a kiss but only yours will do

take me as i am the boy within a man

disturbed beside the curb waiting for the trash man

to take away the things no good to anyone

he’ll find me hard to lift from weight of all i’ve done

 

but i would make the choice of one more day with you

then live a hundred years without you in my view

oxygen gives life and you’re the air i breathe

i want you as my wife let your fears be sheathed

kiss me and you’ll know i’m still in love with you

a kiss is just a kiss but only yours will do

 

***

 

 

 

a woman in love

after a few nights the pillow

where i had been laying

my head on the couch

was found on the bed

 

i laid next to jenny

moved close

and she moved on top

staying there for the whole roll

so i would know

i am hers

 

morning was made of smells

breakfast cooking

and sounds

wolfsheim’s

the sparrow and the nightingale

 

i floated in finding coffee

as i poured

jenny whacked my butt hard

with her cooking spoon

while informing me that

i would be doing

the breakfast dishes

 

if i had three wishes

i would trade them

for the meaning of that moment

 

***

 

 

under an august moon

missy slept

i fled

walked, roamed

drank till i couldn’t

feel my face

 

fell asleep on a beach

woke to cold ocean air

phone filled with queries

from missy

 

i threw it into

the surge of the sea

 

eased

into the day

coffee

water

diet pepsi and a sandwich

just one cigarette

 

it reached rush hour

i started drinking

bar hopped

walked

 

stopped

at a convenience store

more smokes

 

overheard a clerk

at the other register by the door

telling a woman

her card was declined

and she couldn’t buy

the baby formula

 

when i heard her beseech

something reached deep

inside

it was jenny

about to cry

 

i walked up and paid the clerk

she said nothing

but handed me the bag

and pushed the baby stroller

to the car

i followed

stood

as she put our daughter

in the car seat

 

she got into the driver’s seat

started the engine

unlocked all the doors

i got in

 

she drove

i noticed she was on empty

told her to pull into

a gas station

 

i filled her tank

got back in

no other words were spoken

 

back at the place

i had left one night

not too long ago

and just never returned

she parked

took our daughter in

while i sat there holding the sack

 

i went in

 

she took the formula

i took a seat on the couch

slouched

fell asleep

 

*

 

woke up weak and sick

jenny gave me a popsicle stick

with electrolytes

and started breakfast

after i ate

she put our daughter in my lap

took my wallet

left

 

*

 

daughter down for a nap

jenny came back

arms full of groceries

put them on the counter

and asked me to join her

on the balcony

she closed the sliding glass door

behind me

turned and covered my cheek

with a slap

 

went back inside and started

putting away groceries

i lit a smoke

watched her through the glass

and when i saw her take beer

form a bag

and put it in the frig

i said in soliloquy

“i guess i’m home”

 

***