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Recycled
Cliché 9/18/02
i thought i could
create a place
a state of permanence for myself
but it was a dream
the only permanent is my
misery
stumbling through
days
100 percent alcohol free
constantly aware
of my sweet misery
i'm amazed by the
sheer relentlessness
its ever-presence
living out the worst parts of a bad dream
the only permanent companion
my special misery
crying countless nights
away
100 percent alcohol free
consistently aware
of this sweet misery
i scatter my feelings,
my love
to the four winds, specks of dust
hoping to cling to some anything
still blowing freely
but it was a dream
the only permanent for me
my sweet misery
stumbling through
my days
100 percent alcohol free
constantly aware
of this exquisite misery
constantly aware
of me
of me
Elsewhere
8/7/02
his glassy eyes elsewhere
not in this room
not in this mood
searching for something
without this room
outside this mood
Cabin (3/4/96)
silence.
followed only by a
stalwart and frozen
moment that
screamed louder
than any sound
i tore from my seat
in the void to find
the spot, the place
i ceased to be paranoid
nothing was there
surely nothing was there.
thunder.
as reverberating timpani
like a heavenly quake
lightning raced in the sky
brilliant shades of white and gray
interludes of flashes
provided brief glimpses of
the surrounding landscape
a muted, disjointed roar
erupted as i clasped my hands
nothing was there
surely nothing was there.
heartbeat.
nothing but the ka-thud
of a racing heart
it could've exploded
painted crimson these
cold floors, i covered
all openings, the windows
and the doors, but heard
only a creak between the
poundings of the storm
nothing was there.
surely nothing was there.
Elevator
Cranium (2/24/97)
i don't think about
it often
but when i do, my brain it aches
if my memory lets it open
it's the truth of it that hates
i don't lie in your
green pastures
but when i tire, i'll take a snooze
to wake alone the hour after
the same headache without the booze
i don't understand
your one-time urge
you had nothing here to prove
where truth and life and death emerge
I'll find the floor on which i move
Unwritten
Rule (7/28/97)
eventually, two people
traveling opposite directions
are bound to meet
when it happens
no crowds will cheer
no thunder will crash
no music will play
except in their heads
except in their heads
Like Coal
his arms spilled over
like branches in winter rain
the worries he felt were
ankle chains containing
pity was never so perfect
his head drooped low
like a primate in shame
emotions locked like coal
in some secret bin
black was never so bright
his words stumbled
out
like a drunken man's haze
truths were buried like
coffins upon his far hill
death was never so desirable
Setting
0.6 (5/12/97)
my mind is doing corkscrews
since i met you
i can picture nothing else
since last i saw you
Mantle Piece
(5/7/98)
i may as well be a
mantle piece
all eyes and teeth
you can see right through me
if i made my presence
known
would you want to take me home?
i look nice, smell
nice
still you don't notice me
could it be there's nothing to see?
if i made my presence
known
would you want to take me home?
i like it when you
look, but not too much
i like the way you feel
but not the way you touch
and if i let you know
would you help me grow?
and if i made my presence known
would you want to take me home?
To Die (11/4/97)
i had a friend
who had an enemy
who shoved the bone in his nose
right into his brain
what a way to die
Storm (8/6/97)
Summer — a porch
in the South
nothing but the soft crackle of thunder
a storm approaching
one of those days
when the humidity
steals your breath, the man fans his
shirt to try and cool his
furry chest
he catches a fragrant
breeze over the meadow
the wind picks up, the leaves turn over to
their pale undersides — thunder roars
the rain falls in
discrete sheets, like
the layers of a painting — he steps
out into the downpour
"Rain is God's
tears," his mother always
said — "It's the result of his burden, his
appreciation for our toiling the Earth."
arms outstretched,
eyes shut tight,
mouth open wide, he faces skyward
absorbing
not long after, the
rain passes — the
thunder purrs in the distance
an eager sun peers from behind the
last gray cloud
and the heat returns
Nothing Street
(2/7/97)
In an old black alley
scarred with gunshots and
decay stood a coal-black box
filled with old dead
parts — legs, limbs,
lifeless measures with an
alternate opacity —
no one knows, or could
much less guess, how
the parts came to be in the
coal-black box occupying
stolen space in the old black
alley tattooed with graffiti
in a faceless city —
Sorry (5/29/96)
memories of you
an old chapel white
searing wit and humor intact
healthy then
and i'm sorry i didn't
understand you
guess i could've tried harder
I'm sorry i don't cry more often
doesn't mean i don't still love you
but you always knew that
sometimes i think
misconstrued is just a word
ignorant people use to make
themselves feel more "normal"
i know you cared more than you showed
thick skin's real handy, too
and I'm sorry i couldn't
say "i love you"
guess the words hesitated too soon
I'm sorry i couldn't dull the pain
that kept you awake each night in my room
but you always knew that, didn't you?
pictures of you
sunken and frail
the condition left you by this battle
passing on soon
Porcupine
god damned those who
would
belittle, hate and abuse others
to feel bigger, stronger, normal.
god damned those who
would
return to that hatred and betrayal
time and time again.
Midnight
and You Don't Love Me
(6-14-98)
it's midnight and
I'm hardly awake
want something sweet before daybreak
the words they worm inside my brain
lovers and love are not the same
Hate You
Even Now (6/7/94)
hate you even now
in my
pine box so confined
they can have my eyes
and heart and flesh
but you've captured my
soul i shall always be in
your shadow, beaten
corner-driven smaller
still hating, still damning you
from my pine box
so confined |
Words
in Late Summer 9/18/02
summer draws to a
close
leaves fade, sun no longer burns
and part of me
dies with each autumn
part of me drains away
to be birthed again, come spring
and so the cycle goes
it could be beautiful
it could be bare, desolate
it's just you, it's just me
it's everything
winter comes
bends branches in icy rain
buries hopes in whites and grays
and part of me joins the fray
blends in, listless as the sameness days
what comes anew must first fade away
and so the cycle goes
it could be beautiful
it could be desolate
but it's just you, it's just me
it's everything
The Statue
8/7/02
on moss-covered slab
the
statue stands in silent reverie
eyes and mouth and cheekbone drawn
in a scowl
his wrapped arms to his side
pale chest bare, featureless
his hair breaks at the shoulders
unusual for its time
what must he have
thought
captured in this icy shell
shrouded in foliage measurelessly older
the curve and bow of leaves
thousands of shades of green
reaching toward him
i reached, not touching
for what but nature could ever touch something so timeless?
Loft (1994)
i remember the moldy
air
that cellar stench
how it stung our noses
when we climbed ladder
after ladder after ladder
and we finally reached the pinnacle
at this apex we frolicked
among the soft, prickly parched grasses
made us feel alive, invincible
i remember the dingy yellows, browns
staining the hills of bales
how we dared bound from the bluffs
into the cushioned valley
how dangerous actions met with
prankish merriment, and time
time
stood
still
for
friendship
Behold (4/24/96)
crushing
that's what it was
like a finger without feeling
tying in to her story
gently
that's how he was
like a fight without a warning
reeling back to her memory
arching
that's how they played it
like acrobats without a swing
falling into redundancy
aging
that's how life called it
like a dried husk with eyes and feelings
eroding to a vacant shell
leaving
that's how death was
like the earth sighs after a storm
sweeping them both out to sea
Clouds (5/12/97)
"i can see above
the clouds from here"
you said gazing out some fingerprint-smudged window —
i only nodded.
i felt your hand on my shoulder, and we
had a moment
that moment i wished i hadn't fucked you,
hadn't loved you, hadn't breathed to speak,
hadn't agreed to leave.
but it was over — i was normal again
life was here again.
i breathed an 'i love you' but you
didn't speak.
your ashen eyes beamed like headlights
in a fog — i'd hear the elevator soon
another moment:
i kissed you and felt for the last time
the tingle of your mustache — i tried
to sum up our six years in one kiss
like a fool.
"good-bye" was too trite, so i didn't even
look at you — the doors clicked shut, and
i fell from our one hundred and twentieth-floor
fantasy.
One's Own
Continent (1/10/98)
moving on — away
an act of separation
as clean as a break can be
a fresh start is impossible
with the air of stale regret
lingering on
are we truly social
creatures?
i'd like to find my peace alone
but every continent seems taken
where is a space i can call home?
living through —
beyond
courage is a routine
as well off as i should be
and hatred is impossible
with the love i seem to need
hanging on
are we truly social
creatures?
i'd like to find a life alone
and every continent seems taken
where is a place i can call home?
Untitled
(8/1/97)
i don't wanna forget
how you made me laugh
and pissed me off and
impressed me all the while
protecting me
you and your bald
head
did you have regrets?
i don't wanna forget
how you stood when they
said you shouldn't and
your body fought when your mind
it couldn't
you and your bald
head
did you have regrets?
i don't wanna forget
your big ears and your
moon pie eyes, such fire
they held till your soul
grew tired
you and your bald
head
did you have regrets?
i don't wanna forget
how you faced it head-on,
took charge of your new
life, road away into this
dawn
you and your bald
head
did you have regrets?
Professional
Hurt (3/31/97)
it hurt
as i said it would
a clean hurt
stuck in without a wound
no blood
no scar to hide
no black-red
my hurt is all inside
a fuck
simple, brittle mind fuck
a clean spot
shone through a dirty mood
a hurt
professional, carry-on hurt
a new end
a death without a sound
Ghostfellow
(2/12/97)
he loved me when i
was a ghost
he spoke to me when i was a ghost
he laughed at me when i was a ghost
and i could not make believe i was here
with him
i passed right through
when i was a ghost
i made no effort when i was a ghost
i had true feelings when i was a ghost
it took no body to feel right there
with him
bedtime never came
when i was a ghost
memory never stayed when i was a ghost
heartbreak still remained when i was a ghost
i could never be the person to be right there
with him
Flood Plain
(9/11/96)
autumn comes
like an atom crash
bringing with it
the rains again
yellowing and leaning
from past year's cleaning
washing out
new conceit
visitors come
leave trodden marks
wishing away this
soon vacancy
listless and soothing
cloudbursts and booming
washing away
old worries
waters return
to fold the new season
passing over the
grasses, leaves and
dying and beautiful
this earthen soul
washing out
new life
Emotional
Faucet (11/29/93)
let me drip
all that's left
you send me mixes signals
hot then cold, on and off
your faucet to suit you
running water
like the running concerns
we carry on our shoulders
i've relentless tears, i do
until the bills are due
then where are you?
my corridors, the
humidity
my inhibitions, the solemnity
the aching faucet for your endless abuse
feel my connectors and swallow my juice
you spray me, flush me — spin, rotate, rust me
wringing wet i seem to be
therein lies humidity
a quivering leakage,
appendage to
everything you seem to do
latching onto impending doom
decor, spotlight vacant room
eyesore among eyesores
let me leak
my fears must be close to gone
you're clean, and we're over and done
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