trilogy looking for the profitability for a fourth film

so, yeah, AIKA found me

i wasn’t looking to be found

i looked like a hound

my hair

looking like i had just been scared

my face looking like it hadn’t been

erased by a razor

and god only knows what un-brushed teeth

must smell like after cigarettes, whiskey

and no food for oh i don’t how long

 

i was at the bar that i first kissed her

shoveling a handful of popcorn in my mouth

and she was behind my barstool

hand on my shoulder

i swiveled

thought she was going to slap me

but she took the plugs from her mp3

and fucked my ears

so i could hear the song on the other end

of the play button

 

fucking marc anthony’s you sang to me

i wanted to be the baddest mother fucker

you’ve ever seen

but i knew this song wasn’t about her with me

but me with her

 

i’ve always felt i am not something you can steal

but something you must earn

and here she was with this song she burned

 

yeah i can talk you under the table

every word of every fable i know

so don’t bullshit a bullshitter

 

cause carrying a conversation with every person

in the world is child’s play

because faith without works is dead

and i am just your instead

until your savior comes along

 

and here she is in front of me

the me that desperately

wants someone to love them

when all i have to offer is phlegm

which is the consistency of my poetry

 

i want to push her away

say,

“i call bullshit!

i’m just a hit

off your crack pipe

and when the euphoria wears off

i’m the residue you scrap away

cause something worth

will be delivered soon”

 

i’m not a philosopher

i’m not really all that smart

it’s all just a defense mechanism

i’m just a schism

 

aching for someone who sees

the worthless piece of shit

my mother said i will always be

and yet, miracles of miracles

i am just what you need

 

BITCH! this song hasn’t finished

and i can’t be a man with faith

cause that shit is all about being

someone someone could love

 

my mother said, “God couldn’t be here

so he sent mothers”

and as we suffer without buffer

i see my mother’s love

and either this is love

or god is not a fairytale princess

 

anyways

a moment is not enough to say

i know how to absorb the orb

of your effort

some wounded animals should be left to die

like a squirrel i once saw by the roadside

trying to adjust to its future of dust

the look on its face

i can’t erase

it couldn’t

because the back of it had been hit by a car

and now there is nothing left to do but die

realizing no one will ever cry

just kick you to the roadside

so you and your problems won’t be in the way

 

so take your fucking plugs out of my ears

cause love is the only thing i fear

not existence

not something after all of this

philosophers are so stupid they eat shit

and think it is food

 

faith without works is dead

and if you love me

let me know

i don’t care if it is gentle or brutal

cause these goddamn plugs in my ears

are making me hear

effort

and wonder

if it is real

what she’s feels

does she love me

or the idea of the me she wants me to be

because anyone who reads my poetry

and those anyones are very few

will know right now i am really drunk

 

which of course makes me an inconvience

and as this song hasn’t even finished among

her effort

i fear the definition of love

that i can never be

and am i really worth the effort

it will take to get me to fake

another mistake

because i philosophize the relevance

of the cement it would take to recreate

the clay you could mold into something

you could love

because, believe me, you haven’t fingered

anything but the things i let you see

 

***