ass
hole
she said as
she hit
the door
didn’t turn back
nothing to see
i was passed out
with a needle
in my arm
dull
the life style
we had fallen into
and the love
we fell out of
the pain
was all around
these four
walls and
a table top
we haven’t seen in
forever
you choked the
life out of this
she yelled
apparently
so i said
but i remember when
you liked to be
choked
who
saw
this
coming
they all said
given my inability to
sleep, i sometimes
imbibe in a bit more spirit
than most.
but i find, when i do
teeter off into the
deepest confines of my
elaborate mind
i dream the strangest dreams
last night i had a dream
about a situation
in which two lives
intertwined
and it was fine
so fine
like wine
red , to be exact
with the sun burning down our
bodies
it was a new dream
not the usual dream
with the usual
lead actress
and it was innocent
very loving actually
and i didn’t want to
wake up
but i did
i wondered if
two people could possibly
have the same dream
at the same time
and if she did
what she thought
not that it would change
anything, but it would
certainly change everything
she called, as she did everyday
said she needed to talk
did i have a minute.
“sure, pretty girl, whats wrong?”
silence on the phone
is like frozen film
on a screen
“i’m late”
but sometimes there’s
times when silence
is your best option
when you cannot think
“i didn’t know you were coming over,”
i said, joking.
silence also contains
the elements of fear,
both of us not wanting
to say something that
would hurt the other
we weren’t at that place
in our relationship yet
“we’ll figure it out, baby”
is all I said.
she bled a few days later,
but the foundations had been
cracked.
what we were doing,
was just killing time,
till it came time to
start living
and another living, breathing
person scared her more
then hurting me
that’s what i’m thinking on
Fathers day.
dog breath on my back,
beer breath on her chest,
we were a family
inside that small
no room apartment
we provided the electric
and the garbage
just paid for the
four walls and a
bathroom that stank
like dead squirrels in
a rain trough
she’d play with her hair when
the future was up in the air,
or the dog farted
parting our
three way conversation
in the morning
but that’s what family
does, so they say
dog breath in the morning,
and then the two of us
snoring.
they always say you have to be
good at something when your
floundering in the hot wet sand
and i found out late in life
that i was good at
floundering in the hot wet sand
i’ve never been good
at anything though
cept running from
reality
and chasing dreams
that turned into nightmares
on cold dry dirt
and maybe that’s why it
hurts when
i hear laughter
or see a smile
taste a grape
from the nape
of your stomach
because i’ll never
be what you need
when your my hot
wet, sand
beneath me.
words are fun
because most words
are made up
like the words i just wrote
really they have no meaning
except the meaning we gave
them at a past date
they say they were born
from the ancestors
we never met
but because they did
and they called each other
a mate
we have more words with no meaning
whats the definition of definition
does the world stop turning when
you ask
belly laugh is funny
but why?
everyone hates their belly
and we laugh so little
and it’s funny that I keep going
on about
made up words.
it was tense,
none of the other siblings spoke
hell, they just stared down and
kept doing what they were doing,
no eye contact – safety is
in the act of ignoring
well, at least that’s what
i think safety is
“i knew this would day would come,” he said to
ma, as he pushed his chair out.
“think long and hard boy, from here its all different, the world you
once knew won’t be here anymore, you ok with that”?
i thought deep and long
about the past,
about everything we’d been through
together
he’d done so much for us
weeks we wouldn’t see him
when he was home, he wasn’t
really here. he was somewhere
else.
and i know it wasn’t easy for him.
but fuck, it wasn’t easy for us either.
and to be honest, I was tired of having
to be the man of the house
what was in it for me?
kids pissed off at you for
putting them in their place
cutting wood in the winter,
grass in the summer,
dishes when mom didn’t want to do them
“yeah, I think i’m ready old man. It’s time”
and with that, I took the last piece of pizza.
cracked the spine
of the egg
on the ceramic bowl
then another
and another
three eggs, scrambled in
a pot you brought
when you came
home
again
frying bacon permeates
the staleness of the
air contained
within the walls
of the home
you came back
to
again
breaking the skin,
i pull the oranges
life out from its
body
juice explodes from
the fruit and into
my eye
and all over my hands
running down
my arms
and you clean me
up, like you usually
do
when we explode
from the fruit
in our eyes.
the door swung fast
and hard as i let it go
from my zombie like
grip
another day of toiling the
sands of war on the
work front
surrounded by disease and
faith i hang my head so no one
can see my blood shot eyes
from the night before.
i stumble 30 yards to the
time card, the
whore i’ve been seeing
for seven years now
i hate her – i’d leave her,
but where would i go
she pays to well
and i need money
to buy the beer
to make this
feel a little less
like
hell
all around me
pests shoot “hello’s and how are ya’s”
while they worry about the car payment
the electric bill
the babies rash
their impotence
the sex affair
the balding in their
once long, lush hair
crows and spiders
have taken over
as they sag
and gag
me with their
perfumes and
rings on each finger
hoping to catch a fly
in their trap
not this guy
not this time
not again
“good morning, Denny”
i ignore the gesture
of moving this from
walking to the electric
chair for a bit of conjecture
“Denny, don’t you hear me?”
“I hear you just fine – do you know me?”
“i see your name on your badge”
“Oh, this”, i say – yeah, i used to be him
before you vultures stole my soul
clocked in
she stared
eight more hours.
i clamor for your attention
as i stick out my head from the
shell i save myself from
the direct rejection
your eyes pump through
my veins
with rusty needles you
disregard my health
my life
i only wish to make you
smile again and again
as you recoil
and retrieve the steak you
stuck into me
my heart drips black
blood that went bad
from the last one
that
struck me
dead
if i’m the clown
you wish to frown upon
after laughing over
silly squabbles that led
us to this very moment
mounted freely on this
fresh green marsh that we
made love on
and pondered the future
while fondling the now
with regretful kisses
and echo-less heart beats
well then i hope this fucking
land floods
and nothing is left standing
but my black blood
on tainted water
killing everything
underneath
and hiding you from those
above
