putting my
best foot forward
using it to
prop open
your door
i’ll go
if thats what you want
dont promise nothing
not to me anymore
i need time
to get my things
just a few seconds
thats what I came for
but you weren’t alone
and now I know for sure
everything that went wrong
was yours
hard to walk now
my feet are broken
my heart nailed to your floor
i get the point
its all lies
so I wont talk anymore
if it makes you happy
i’ll just collect my things
even though anything
that reminds me of you
i’d rather part
what had driven me
is no longer there
to drive me crazy
just young and infatuated
and then you say
its complicated
and how you hated
how you ended everyday,
waiting…
but you never
planned on staying
it was nothing.
oh Virgina,
i’ll hate blondes
until i comb the gray in

i smoked myself
into a stumble today
sometimes
i find it easier this way
my anti venom
that pushes the poison
from my veins
thats seeped in
as my soul was replaced
and now
tongues lossened
alcohol soaking my brain
i declare
things can get messy
and then
there is change..

who they are
what they say
it isn’t what it isn’t
its what it is
war is a lie
in times of peace
nuclear arsenal
weapons of
mass destruction
confetti like
on my tv
weapons of
mass consumption
land mines
forming
craters and their
discarded
situations
littered by
man
and his attachments
arms
legs
and the like
the things that
you use to
be who
they are
what they say
what it isn’t
the truth that is
what you aren’t
what was it
it was, what it is
a lie in times of peace

i predict
another shot
not
enough pot
to smoke
or make it
stop
make the thoughts
run dry
in this
heavyweight bout
as they meet paper
their demise
as i toss them out
from brain to fingers
and various other
routes
while time
has been licking
at the corners of my mouth
tongue in cheek
its bitten me
ouch
open wounds
pour the in salt
now

great way to end the week
your eyes began to leak
on your
drive
to work
your weary head starts
to hurt
sleepless
squinty eyes water
as you fumble and feel
that smoke wont clear
your head,
but it keeps your
hands on the wheel
fuck that.
fucking
stupid radio
god damn
ipod
shuffles songs
that make you
way too low
looking down
you begin to curse,
fuck that photo
on that LCD
it only makes it worse,
grab that phone
a call
you have to make,
talk about
this
free
fall
the toll its gonna take
you pause to feel
the pain of
one
million
razors.
cut through you
as
eyes burn like
theyve been gouged out by lazers,
as complaceny
escapes
your stomach heaves
and gut rots like cancer,
the call you want to make
there no one there
to answer
i say
we’re born to live
but dropped in cages,
forced to read
from thier pages,
and then
freed
to
mingle,
love,
and
breed across the ages
find work or trade
and earn meager wages
this makes life
no less than extrodinary
learn well from your
mentors now
they all die eventually
and
one day
you’ll feel lucky
for that memory
and then
feel
luckier
if you could
just forget
everything
whats sad…you cant…
and the impact takes awhile
this is you
missing persons
and there is no report to be filed
cause when life
stops
ends abruptly,
there is
no report
its called
an obituary,
there are
no leads
to follow
no trail
gone cold
you sigh, and think
he spent a lifetime growin up
and then he
grew
too
old.
and
now
speaking
outloud,
the
words spun
from a quivering mouth

dad…
it would
of been nice
to talk to
you
today…

i want
answers
for all my problems
all my arguments
i want
the means to resolve them
but its not happening
its life
and i am
trapped within
grip tightening
as my heart
pounds
its wandering eye
moves too close to your mouth
lips
glisten
words uttering
says no more talking
about this and that
or how i
get the bad wrap
i’d rather talk about
the
meaningless things
about the
dulldrums of work
how i’m allergic
to wasp stings
or the ache
that
makes
me
choke
everytime i think
about
how
my minds broke
down
i pretend to hear
a voice
how it might sound
when it says
this clutter is
out of control
only swells
as the ball
continues to roll
have your way
with me
take my all
and
swallow
the lump in my throat,
you.
its my fault
i don’t kick and scratch
or scream
i can’t even stand
to raise my voice
and this is my
choice
excuseable to me
if i don’t
leave a mark
it doesn’t
mean
my teeth arent sharp
just lost in
my nothingness
finding
a colder spot
most likely
underneath all this
humor me
speak with forked tongue
lie
to make it easier
promise a mile
never giving an inch
make me forget i’m
just dreaming
deny me the pinch
i want nothing
all my problems
i dont want them
thats
exactly the way
i want them
but
its not happening
this
want heeds to need
and i need
something

skyless eye
following
shape shifting
cloud formations
dead end roads
roundabouts
various situations
painted signs
roadside guides
holding placards
turn here
and park
dont change
lanes
maintain your
course
steady.
sure.
ready?
sure!
meet me
where x
marks the spot
here
where
taste
and or smell
and the
sensational
consumes all thought

typing
not paying
attention to
what it was
i was saying
sounds normal
or it is
this process that
is more selective
ask it as a question

no, it was
more of a directive
come here i said
empty the contents
of your head
less destructive
clutter my
coffee table
be sure
not to
forget you are able
to break the
boundry
bring me to
my knee
down
like a light rain
sent to appease
fascinated
with this
consumption
of words
enthralled with
the inabilty to say
no
to no resistance
fullfill the urge

if it makes
any difference
its the only thing
i ever
found within
myself
regreting
if only
i hadn’t spent
my time bending
there would
of been
the happier ending
who’s to say
what was said
simply
revert back to
normalcy
continue with
the better
policies

its not perfect
its home
with sky rises
shitty bars
connected by
telephone lines
and shitty attiudes
from the stupid
little flags hanging
from the
rear views
but
i’m not leaving
not going
anywhere
its not perfect
but i like it
cause
there are those
that make it what it is
its home