#1123 hearts

in gambling and in relationships
people say hit me
only the gamblers are gambling though
the others are playing safe
the gamblers have a chance at income
the others have a guaranteed outcome
the odd gambler wins against the house
abused are guaranteed to lose
the house always wins
the home always loses

#1122 objects in mirror

remember when the grass field, was a forest
when a room full of adults, was a jungle of legs
when mail was exciting
what happened to that boy
how would he judge you
where is he now
who is this being you have become
go, drink from a book
go, find a colouring book
go
come back when i am patient

#1121 lion's tooth

the grass lawn looks natural, easy
but took weeks of grimy fingernails and tired backs
the happy dandelion choked and suffocated
their straight roots strong as bailer twine
and holds onto the earth
like a toddler to their favourite toy
but, like all good work
the sweat is vanished
the work invisible
and the grass lawn looks natural, easy

#1120 sharp

he smiles at the world
a smile rimmed with anger
she thinks she can fix him
paint over the anger

too bad
no one ever told her
not to catch a falling knife

#1119 sewed to my sleeve

we had trouble before
now, our relationship seems... fragile
i'm wondering when you'll fail next
you're wondering why my demands are so high
i thought we were only one third through our trip together
now i wonder, if we're further along than i thought
if the trip is shorter

#1118 today's forecast

i forget
i forget that her home life is a daily tornado
sometimes she's caught in the eye and thrown, bruised and broken
sometimes she sits unscathed
i forget
i forget that restful sleep is her tropical vacation
a luxury item
her emotional bank account can't afford
i forget
life for her is the existence of a tsunami
being present is dangerous

she sits
silent
back row
in another world
and she is a miracle
that she has survived
that she sits
a slow drifting cloud

#1117 tall person to short person

i be long, you be long
let's belong together

i look down at all the other boys
but the other boys think i look down on them

i like 5-foot boys
but kissing them is a 2-way awkward

i be long, you be long
let's belong together


i be long, you be long
let's belong together

#1116 fade to yellow

make my invisible bruises visible
let the world know the hell that is my home
the lonesomeness that is my life

let the thoughts that coincide with the 6 o'clock news
and the doubt that travels with kind words
let these blood vessels break and be seen by the eyes of others

let the names he calls me
show purple
and the self-thoughts
show red
make these bruises turn visible
      so they may fade to yellow

#1115 mulch

Minds rust and rot through lack of use

     like lawnmowers hibernating

The grass they once conquered

     now conquers them

We fib to ourselves about our place in nature’s matrix

     and the fibs rust and rot our selves

#1114 five dollar tip for a beer

he mistakes karma
for tipping hot servers
and ensuring they see
he thinks the right clothes
make the man right
his soul is a trans-am passing on a double-line
and we molded him

#1113 pedaling nowhere

my back on my bed, my feet on the slanted wall
i ponder think thoughts thought a millions of time by millions of other teens
escaping from the fear of being just another being
as my ears turn vibrations into music
i slide my feet down, alternating, repeating
pedaling an an upside-down imaginary bicycle
yesterday still special
because they are so few

#1112 i still see pink and blue cotton candy in fairway mud

i saw him with another woman
i sat on the carousel
they stood in the chip-truck line

i gripped a pole that grew out of fiberglass mane
the first round was just a physical closeness
the second circle, a flirtatious laugh
      two-way
the third time, a furtive glance and a holding of hands

shooting up, sinking down
spinning spinning, round and round
recorded marching band music drags
i see the cotton candy in the puddle by their feet

the ride slows, stops
i step off
he is there to greet me
the same smile as ever

#1111 i want to be a superhero

a man in the crowd
not in the front, or in the middle, or at the edge
just a man, somewhere in the crowd
shouts
say something new, say something true


so i
leave my safe poem in its safe folder at my safe feet and i
stick my finger down my soul to
puke up something with potatoes and meat

something new, something true..?
alright

i wanna be a new-age superhero
one who
fights mysogyny and brings out the man in men
a superhero
quintessential masculine
but takes off the mask now and then

a superhero who stops playground bullies and says
look inside
a hero who stands between two men, 2am, outside a bar
helping them see how stupid they are
that win or lose
they're choosing to be losing

a superhero who helps men understand that he who farthest sticks out his chest
is rarely if, ever the best

one who fights everyday crime
like at the peelers, catching men sticking their family's bills down g-strings for thrills
and saying to them
this is someone's daughter

or to the man who empties himself into his cleanest laundry
three seconds of feeling full, for a day full of feeling empty
that girl grinding on the internet
is someone's daughter
she's got issues
that will never be fixed by your, misused tissues

i want to be a superhero
super
hero
two big small words
i want to
put myself to the test
to
make testosterone a good word again
to
know when silence is louder than lecture
to
know the muscles do not the man make
i want to be a superhero
to
all the boys in my life
for
all the girls in my life
i want to be a superhero
i want to be a superhero


that man in the crowd
arms folded
he smiles, nods

#1110 my catholic upbringing

makes me
   look for meaning in suffering
   feel big guilt over tiny lies
   torture myself to feel good
   speak in bed to an invisible being
   listen to my silent voice

#1109 the mess

the same messes surround me
the same books
the same dishes
the same clothes
all waiting to be returned to their rightful home
with one difference
this time i lack the motivation to rise from this couch
some might tell me to 'fake it till i make it'
that 'depression is just a state of mind'
but the weight of the world keeps me here
all the dark news stories
and all my own failures
each adding pounds to my shoulders
equaling a weight that will not register on the scale under the bathroom sink
but a weight that these shoulders cannot hold

#1108 aortic valves

the crowd will be there and i will be ready
with my voice full of lava and gravel and rock-steady
delivering them a gift
from my being not from the page
direct to their ears from a simple, transformed stage
they leave the building changed
brains and blood-pumping organs rearranged
leave them dreaming and rhyme-scheming
Eh-Eh!
Beat-Beat
Eh-Eh!
Beat-Beat

#1107 my dog, my teacher

i sit in my home

worth more than some people make in a lifetime

tired 

of surfing on a net that has us all trapped

i don't even know if the sun is visiting today

and at my feet lies the dog

staring at ninety-nine cent tennis ball

with pleading eyes and a hopeful tail

#1106 too many ingredients

square trees and rectangle eyes
unnatural, but hard not to consume
we begin consuming the unnatural for silly reasons
jealousy   novelty   publicity
we continue
habit and greed but not for need

#1105 fifteen candles

a world
more mature
    adult
       dangerous
like an older brother's stereo

small things
take on
    big
       meanings

we watch
passive participants, acting

we sit in the excitement around us
unable to stand the events around us

then we go home
pretend nothing happened
until we escape to our beds
replaying the movie in our changed heads

#1104 rocking out in solitude

distortion precedes sense
followed by a drum
delivering you to your mother's doorstep
hypnotizing you
before deep-massaging your being with opening lyrics
so broad
so precise
a song whose closing notes make you hope
no song follows
only silence can follow noise that right

#1103 every bad girl deserves an eric

will he still on me for fretting
i thought that was all under the bridge by now
will he barre me from playing
will he mock my long neck
or will he slide his fingers along my neck
and help me tune out this world

#1102 a list of 7

1
you and i... so different
share love so equal
2
so different
sharing such strong principles: family, nature, the necessity of childhood wonder
3
the hundreds, thousands
of reasons we should not have lasted
4
you love white turkey meat
i prefer dark
5
you, social master and infamous chatter; you, the ever-moving ever-buzzing hummingbird
understand me
6
how you know what i'm feeling, with clues
so few and subtle
7
how we, speaking different languages, enjoy full conversations
without words

#1101 night travel

halfway to 68
i've seen a fraction of my country
and none of the world
sometimes the night takes me places i don't want to go
places of an inner space
black corners and derelict basements
breeding grounds for horror

#1100 sundown

the cold comes hard
when the sun slides behind the mountain
leaving you with breezy sunburn
sandals and a thin t-shirt

sometimes
warm days turn cold fast
followed by dark
chills

#1099 "vivian"

how many times did he cry and shout and anger his way through his lyrics before he mastered them in this controlled unknown version
how many drunk ignorant admiring audience members did he ignore and block out before he held the feelings in his guitar pick

you made her proud
you're not done
but she's proud
she's proud

#1098 pick up the dogshit

hey
ever complained about something and done nothing about it
ever said that something needed to be organized, but didn't organize it
ever complained about what your town, doesn't do
this is our time
between that tic and the next toc
this is our time
as the digital number fades and before the next one is generated
this is our time
as the last grain of cheap sand falls through the plastic hourglass knowing it will be among the first to fall in a minute when it is flipped
initiate the introduction
ask the question
pick up the chip bag
or
wait for someone else to do the right thing instead
maybe they will
or
maybe
they will wait too
and the litterbug will win
and your park will keep the scar that is a chip bag
or
maybe
they will complain about how much tax she pays and that the city-worker
should pick it up
or
maybe
you
will pick it up

#1097 framed

then
she was his picture frame
limiting, containing, restricting

now
 she is his picture frame
highlighting, improving, cooperating
her colour, her texture, her lines
highlight the best in him
bringing out him more than he ever did on his own

#1096 separating the reds

frightened mouths
surround dismantled washing machines
childhood games turn dangerous in august
big fingers do little to reassure
everyday noises grow torturous
just as torturous noises turn to everyday

#1095 notes on music

they call it live music
because it helps your soul feel alive

one man and six strings
maybe a mouth harp too
he sings
and, for two hours
your problems fall off the side of the earth

one foot-stomping band
an accordion and a banjo, loud fun lyrics
your foot taps without your awareness
the dance floor sucks you up
giving you un-inhibition that other nights drink to find

a taleted mix
drum, stand-up bass
raspy female vocals
sends you home further back in your mind than when you arrived
deeper, better

#1094 grief is like an urgent pee

for blocks of time you forget you have to pee
then
you get close to the bathroom
and your being is filled with the need to pee
no room for daydreaming or thinking straight
you throw the door open, leave it open
maybe you slap the light switch, maybe not
the sight of the toilet makes unbearable more unbearable
which is impossible
but it happens

#1093 i want a crowd

don't, get me wrong
if the numbers didn't show, i'd get over it
i mean, i might sulk for a few days (maybe a week)
then i'd get over it

but, i want a crowd
i want
to run out of chairs
i want
lineups out the door and down sidewalks
i want
a hot dog vendor on the corner
making more money than...
than could fit in my simple pine box

i want a crowd
i want
   music and kind words
   booze
   salt tears and belly laughs
not too much of any one
just enough

i want a crowd
maybe when i age i'll, get past the numbers thing
overcome the pettiness
but i doubt it

i'll want a  crowd
after all
in the end
i'll still be human

#1092 "ashen lady"

learning to drive, with his mother beside him,
he thinks he's doing well
the bucking has ceased
his mother's grip on the holy-shit-handle has relaxed
but, like all of us who attempt something new
his eyes fix on the line between the hood and the ahead
he's told to look ahead
but his eyes wander back to the world ruled by the decal
years later, he will forget just how unnatural driving is
until he becomes the passenger