I slip through the cracks
Where no one else will go
And fill in the gaps
Seamlessly, silently, efficiently.
The darkest hours are my associates:
The clatter trap of a shopping cart,
The whoosh of a street cleaner,
The screaming hush of neon.
Without me, nothing would be the same.
You owe me more than you know;
In an instant I'll be gone,
A mere fracture in time,
A trick of the light
Bursting with color,
A brazen apparition that tiptoes
Through the over-under,
Dark with purpose, waiting for a dream.
I can't wait to burn your house down
And listen to you scream.

Ah, the little children, look at them frolic
Look at them play
Oblivious to the reality that they're
Future predators and prey
Who will it be? Caught, red-handed,
With that smoking gun?
Who's body ends up in a ditch?
Pimps and pushers, rapists and addicts
Embezzlers, car thieves, and muggers
Gangbangers, hitmen, molesters and con men
All of them were children once
Before "it" manifested and took control
Even now, I remember my childhood
My hopes, dreams and aspirations
My good deeds and intentions
My desire to change the world
All that matters now is
My insatiable hunger for flesh.

Clouds
On
Friday.
Everywhere:
Gray and moribund.
Distant. Cold. Incalculable.
Like some vast expanse of sad songs
You can't help but hum;
Painfully
Aware
Of
You
Or
Some
Semblance
Of our love.
Technicolor ghosts
Inhabit the places I dwell,
Filling the Void with emptiness.
A tangible grief
Has buried
Any
Hope
I
Have
Left
For Us.
We were strong,
Wild and beautiful;
A magnificent spectacle,
A tragic roadside attraction.
Blood, flowers, and booze:
Communion
Without
Real
Trust...
Day
Breaks
BLANKLy
I am botched
and I am humbled.
At your expense, I was made well.
Please
Live
Better
Without me.

Randumb


Conflict. Dispensation. Besiegement. Joyride. Caricature. Parsimony. Grotesque. Variance. Moisture. Sudden. Oozing. Inexcitability. Citation. Fable. Well-groomed. Finger. Badness. Mistreatment. Collapse. Noninfectious. Respect. Localized. Improper. Socialization. Movable.

Scandalized. Artful. Progress. Deceitful. Competition. Seclusion. Liberate. Disadvantage. Undiminished. Beginning. Obliquity. Verity. Unembarrassed. Terror-stricken. Supple. Flow. Immaterial. Unlimited. Elysian. Cheerfulness. Chance. Abhor. Continuity. Comedy.

Admit. Master. Disarranged. Carouse. Hopeful. Concealment. Beggarly. Ill-omened. Exfoliation. Control. Unimportance. Stimulating. Task. Deterioration. Amorous. Hollow. Feast. Impiety. Frown. Colossus. Murmur. Decay. Lamentation. Doubt. Inquisition.

Discernment. Being. Transitive. Eliminate. Elementary. Sensibility. Hostile. Histrionic. Egress. Rapture. Termination. Bully. Expectancy. Pretense. Improbity. Embellish. Majestic. Infer. Superior. Hindrance. Shape. Delicate. Bitter. Guise. Encouragement.

I put
a tourniquet
‘round my brain,
years ago this happened.

I haven’t quite been the same
since that fateful day;
I’m sure I’ve gotten worse
‘cause I’ve tightened that
Tourniquet
year after year after year--
to the point where I wouldn’t even know
how to act if I were able.

Three cheers! To my dead brain:
an idea’s rotten meeting place.
Suffice to say,
I’m right as rain,
I laugh like sugar when…

I laugh like sugar, when?

I used to laugh sweetly
‘cause you were there to laugh with me,
turning the screws
at each near-miss we’d make.

I loved being coated in your sweat
(And, sometimes, your blood).




My abdomen would feel like it was going to tear.





The taste of my own sweat in my mouth.







Your hair smothered me,
your lips wrenched passion from deep
within me
and there were times I literally
wanted to devour you.








I loved feeling like I was part of you.
Perfect pieces that fit together, perfectly.







There were things I felt
that were indescribable, thanks to you.



I loved hearing you say, “I love you,”
with each quivering fiber of your being,
2,500 miles from a purpose or Reason.

Here I am again in the dark,
no company to be had,
chewing my skin and fingernails,
waiting for something to happen.
Cars stream by in groups of three,
along with a person or two,
it’s early, still. 11pm, to be exact.
And I chew and spit
and chew and spit some more.
And each time I start to think of you
I try and think of something else,
like that bus, there, or that music I hear softly,
or those two kids walking nearby.
But, it’s no use…
I keep thinking of you
and what could’ve been done differently.

There’s some kinda nightmare
Creeping up on me.
I’m not sure if it’s been handed down
Or if I’m the “lucky recipient”
Of someone’s bad day.
Shit ain’t right and ain’t gettin' any righter
This is supposed to be a time of celebration,
Of jubilation,
Yet I’m smack dab in the middle of a situation.
Things are goin’ asymmetrical
And people are talkin’ louder,
Their laughs are more diabolical
And drugs just don’t affect me the same.
I mean, just this evening, I met a woman
Who likes to be known as a widow and
I gave her my number.

I am lost, again
in some kind of maelstrom
or vacuum.
I’m not sure which has consumed me
but it’s apparent
I need some form of “help.”
Each awkward situation has rendered me
Helpless
and each person thinks they have the answer.
I’ve burned myself and those around me
for the umpteenth time and it’s quite evident that
no one will be coming to save me;
No matter how much I beg or plead,
no matter how much work I do for you,
I am a lost cause.
I have broken myself beyond reparation
and you hold me in suspense.

The wind is howling
And carries with it sweet smells;
Everything’s dancing.
Unseasonable
October weather this year,
How long will it last?
Happy couples walk
Hand in hand, sharing themselves:
A slap in the face.
“Shine on me, baby,
‘cause it’s raining in my heart,”
Repeats in my head.
I want to beg you
To be my girl, again,
But that cannot be.
The leaves are turning
And, technically, fall is here.
Should it be this warm?
I will not complain,
This respite is overdue
And rain will soon reign.
The wind is howling
And carries with it sweet smells.

Four years or
Forty-eight months or
Two hundred-eight weeks or
One thousand, four hundred sixty-one days or
Thirty-five thousand, sixty-four hours or
Two million, one hundred-three thousand, eight hundred forty minutes or
One hundred twenty-six million, two hundred thousand, four hundred seconds:
How long I knew you.

Three point seven-five years or
Forty-four point nine-zero months or
One hundred-ninety-five weeks or
One thousand, three hundred sixty-eight point seven-five days or
Thirty-two thousand, eight hundred-fifty hours or
One million, nine hundred seventy-one thousand minutes or
One hundred eighteen million, two hundred-sixty thousand seconds:
How long I've loved you.

But who’s counting…

Crows fly in the sun and doves fly in the moonlight; I collect feathers. Clandestine meeting that takes place in broad daylight: heated words exchanged. The words that you speak are either false or hurtful. Do you ever sleep? Some people are sick: Grotesque, lumbering filth-pigs, drunk on their disease. “Does your life shed light or does your life cast shadows?” My answer is “Yes.” Man, those gutter punks are so legit, with street cred and matching cell phones. The streets are empty except for the birds and me. Alone or lonely? People littering: Return to man what is man’s.

I love you.
Te dua.
Ana Behibek.
Wo ie ni.
Miluji te.
Mi amas vin.
Tora dust midaram.
Je t’aime.
Ich liebe Dich.
S’ayapo.
Wa ai lu.
Nu’umi unangwa’ta.
Ti amo.
Kimi o ai shiteru.
Nakupenda.
Vos amo.
Khoi huk chau.
Es Tev milu.
Aheri.
Inhobbok!
Konoronhkwa.
Ayor anosh’ni.
Tora dost daram.
Mahal Kita.
Eu te amo.
Te iu besc.
Volim te.
Gwa ai lee.
Ik hou van jou.
Tom ho’ ichema.
Toi yeu em.
Naan Unnai Kadhalikiren.
Ha eh bak.
Ch’ha di ga”rn.
Te amo.
Ja Cie Kocham.
Muje se mu habbat hai.
Eg elskar deg.
I love you.

I wish I'd been kinder.
Less selfish.
Less condescending.
Less judgmental.
Less insane.
Less... petty.
More trusting.
More accepting.
More grateful.
More open-minded.
More loving.
But I break everything I touch.
Everything I'm a part of, every meaningful relation
And spend years living with regret.
And guilt.
And misery.
And lonliness.
And make excuses for my behavior.
And have pity parties for myself
And write stupid "poems" about, yes, that's right:
Myself.
Instead of actually changing,
I wish. And
I agonize. And
I grow weary...
Of running,
Hurting,
And BLAMING others
For my behavior,
More than merely young at heart.

“Fun” With License Plates

145 DYR
650 DVN
SL 68967
709 CUS
157 BPQ
SVE 590
917 DGR
UHK 325
930 BTY
ZKQ 606
751 CMF
ADM 5945
ZEE 287
XGY 148
UMJ 809
330 BQF
YMB 948
760 BTY
XVS 875
750 WDJ
729 BBV
XNM 033
CPR 6845
082 DUR
102 BQF 762 DFS
8154 RM
YMJ 780
884 DW
UTG 388
993 DRT
VJD 187
WCF 584
378 CYF
TLP 872
292 CXL
370 DSE
995 CKH
288 DFZ
355 DOC
094 YDY 994 BGY
TSA 109
827 CJD
DKG 277
TVC 333
UKC 405

“The first time ever I saw your face” it was covered in dirt and oil,
your hair was piled on top of your head and held secure with a dirty bandana,
your overalls were a mess and smelled like solvent,
and I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.
You seemed sexy and strong and I wanted to devour you.
The next time I saw you, you were moderately cleaner
And just as sexy and alluring.
I gave you my phone number,
I couldn’t have been more nervous and awkward…
A week later, you called me and we made plans.

The first time we went out involved
copious amounts of alcohol, laughter and madness.
I said, “Too bad you’re not girlfriend material”
and partially meant it but wanted you as my own.
Your manner of speech and some things you confessed
took me by surprise.
I tried to keep you at a distance
but it was useless.
I tasted you for the first time and became infected,
addicted, blinded, and dumb.
My appetite knew no bounds and you willingly satiated me,
My focus shifted to you and my primary objective was feeding
Morning, noon, and night:
Over and over again…

The first few months were fantastic.
We celebrated not having babies,
We sang and danced together,
Painted the town a fiery red,
Went on trips to the coast,
Drank and drove,
Screwed in public,
Wrote each other poetry and
Went to Hawai’i.
Then, the jealousy reared its ugliness,
First in me then, eventually, you.
I could feel the sickening madness
When I thought of what you might be up to,
Where you might be, and whom you might be with.
The confessions you spoke our first night out
Repeated themselves in my brain.
I wanted every man you knew dead.

The suspicion grew,
The accusations increased.
I suspected your neighbor,
Your co-workers,
Your cousin,
Your ex,
Old friends, new friends, my friends,
Your friend’s boyfriend,
Your other friend’s ex-boyfriend,
Your father’s friend,
And your step-sister’s ex.
It got to the frenzied point that I suspected
Any person that would drive down your street,
Slow down by your house or
Come anywhere near you.
However, I was not alone…
You accused me of screwing girls from the bar,
Screwing girls that rode in my cab,
Screwing girls I worked out with,
Screwing my ex,
Screwing girls I would casually glance at.

It got to the point that we
Threatened each other,
Screamed at each other,
Hurled insults at each other,
Threw things at each other,
Spit, kicked, slapped and bit each other.
There was mental abuse,
Drug abuse,
Physical abuse,
Alcohol abuse,
Verbal abuse,
Emotional abuse and
I’m sure there was some sexual abuse.
Sometimes the abuse was one at a time,
Usually it was a combination of many abuses.
Then, there was calm
And we’d have cheap make-up sex,
Things would be fine for a day or two
Then one of us would set the other off.

It was sad.

I take all the blame.
I started it.
I was jealous and insecure.
I said horrible, disgusting things to you.
I disrespected your mother.
I turned your family against me.
I insulted your friends.
I felt entitled.
I was prideful and stubborn.
I lied to you about petty things.
I invaded your personal space.
I took you for granted.
I picked on you repeatedly.
I was selfish.
I refused to listen to anything you had to say.
I showed a complete lack of respect for you.
However,
I never cheated on you
Nor have I been with anyone since you.

--I love her.

--But she’s no good for you.

--But, I love her.

--But you’ve both been in this dysfunctional relationship.

--But, I love her.

--You’re definitely no good for her.

--But, I love her.

--How can you say that and treat her the way you do?

--I don’t know… I see myself doing or saying things and I can’t stop myself and don’t know what to do about it but I know, ardently, that I love her.

--You’re insane, that’s what you are.

--Well, I still love her.

--Well, maybe she doesn’t love you. Maybe she never did, sucker.

“The beast in me
Is caged by frail and fragile bars
Restless by day
And by night rants and rages at the stars
God help the beast in me

The beast in me
Has had to learn to live with pain
And how to shelter from the rain
And in the twinkling of an eye
Might have to be restrained
God help the beast in me

Sometimes it tries to kid me
That it's just a teddy bear
Even somehow manages to vanish in the air
That is when I must beware
Of the beast in me that everybody knows…”

If I didn’t know any better
I’d swear Johnny Cash wrote
those previous lyrics about me.
Because I do have a beast that lives inside
and I’m mostly taken by surprise
when he (they? It?) takes over
and I have to live with the repercussions.
I’m tired of this beast that beats me down
and makes my life a fucking miserable wreck.
This last go-round with my most recent relationship has driven it home.
She was my one and I threw her away.
I want to love and be loved,
I want to trust and be trusted.
I want her.

Randumb, Too


Excitement. Adumbration. Taste. Detach. Insanity. Compulsion. Willingness. Snowy. Inseparable. Departure. Misanthropy. Jocular. Statute. Characteristic. Ornament. Unbroken. Malapropism. Disjunction. Substance. Abdication. Communicate. Fornication. Irascibility. Severance. Serpentine. Insipidity. Opposition. Nerve. Regale. Introduce. Repining. Impact. Numeration. Cohesion. Proportionate. Passage. Indifferent. Singleness. Quiescent. Unrelated. Structure. Consecutive. Brave. Jester. Brace. Exhibit. Mildew. Travel. Antecedence. Provincial. Turpitude. Mediate. Auricle. Gratification. Rotundity. Power. Thought. Combatant. Belittle. Knowledge. Contravene. Gnaw. Goodness. Unparalleled. Tractable. Element. Clutch. Error. Rising. Difficulty. Despised. Surrender. Enmity. Vanquish. Success. Mockery. Obedience. Clangor. Secrete. Judicious. Nightmare. Velocity. Decree. Stationary. Stainless. Reliance. Indelicate. Dissent. Exclusive. Strangulated. Replica. Similarity. Infatuation. Deranged. Reception. Compilation. Sarcasm. Dissertation.

A is for abdomen
B is for buttocks
C is for clavicle
D is for diaphragm
E is for epiglottis
F is for finger
G is for gall bladder
H is for humerus
I is for intestines
J is for jaw
K is for knee
L is for lips
M is for meniscus
N is for nipple
O is for
P is for pituitary
Q is for
R is for ribs
S is for saliva
T is for testicle
U is for urethra
V is for
W is for
X is for xyphoid process
Y is for
Z is for

Hey, watch this:
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Wanna see it again? Check it:
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff. I really like this part:
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
And, what’s more:
Blah, blah, blah, blah. Blah.
Hmmm, sometimes, though:
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
And, never one to be outdone:
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Look, I’m not gonna tell you again:
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Get it? Good. And, should you ever need anything:
Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
You know, you really:
Blah, blah, blah.

“Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday, dear L____,
Happy Birthday to you!”

Holy crap! He’s already _ years old!
In so many ways, he still acts like he’s _
but in so many other ways he acts like he’s __.
Not looking forward to that age.
If he’s anything close to the way I was, I’m doomed.
Although, he’ll be the doomed one if he pulls the crap I did.
I’m a hypocrite but it’s only ‘cause
I love him to death and I’ve been through the fire
and he has yet to strike a match.

Zombies, that’s what we’re being for Halloween. The mandate has been sent down and that’s that. Of course, I’m the one who has to make the costumes, he just gets to wear it and look good. Piece o’ cake, though. What could be easier than shredding some old clothes, caking ‘em with mud and dirt and smattering them with blood (fake, of course)? This’ll be a good one. The "Zomboys" will be out on the town, searching for brains. Well, he’ll want candy but I’m eating brains, damn it. At least one of us is doing this zombie thing right.

NOTICE OF SCHEDULED COURT PROCEEDING

Scheduled Proceeding: Trial Court
Date: __/__/08
Time: 8:30AM
Room: 602 Court Trials

IMPORTANT NOTICE: PLEASE READ
Failure to appear at the court event indicated above at the time and place specified may result in an order being rendered against you in this case.

NOTICE TO DEFENDANTS AND OFFICERS

Either side may request ONE re-setting of the trial. The request must be in writing, received by the court more than 14 days prior to the scheduled trial date, and MUST DEMONSTRATE GOOD CAUSE. If granted, the date can be changed.

GO DIRECTLY TO THE COURTROOM INDICATED.

We went Trick-or-Treating at your house 1st.
I snuck ‘round back to the open door and peeked inside.
You came into the kitchen and yelped when you saw me and called me a “Mother Fucker.”
It’d been over a month since I’d seen you last and you took my breath away.
You looked so sexy in those jeans with that rip on the thigh, placed just so.
I wanted to grab you and kiss you on the spot but you seemed reticent and I was painted like a zombie.
I invited you over to my place but you haven’t shown.