Learning Commons

the uppers and the downers got
in a fight inside my head
thought someone was breaking in the house
and the imagined creaks and
bangs of robbery
interrupted the self-induced
orgasm I was
just
almost
I should really lock the door.
Popping pills to stay awake
long enough to work out
all the work
Smoking bowls to fall asleep
long enough to wake up
and work
Self-destructing for success
earning degrees
measuring degrees
of sanity
walking cold bricks home
alone
thoughts racing
waking thin lines between
taking meth head as a compliment
thinking and writing
prolifically
interrupted
"the time is now 11:30 and the library will be closing in 30 minutes
if you wish to remain please move to the learning commons on the second floor"

Sarabande

in some fundamental way
this cello captures
everything that is sad
and beautiful in the world

the hard rain of gray days
the solemnity of funerals
the joy of weddings
the complexity of solitude

with every reverberation of the strings
i remember dark days of
childhood and wonderful ones as well
and i feel peaceful
listening
but inadequate.

skeletons

6. 15. 2008

Your hands and feet...

I like the bony places

where I can see your 

fragile framework.

Every interlocking part

that makes you -simply. 

Layers after 

that make you 

strong

smart

handsome

remarkable-  remarkably. 

Against all odds

against all expectations.

I like the thick skull 

that anchors your black hair

the deviated septum

that makes you snore

loudly

then quieter 

when I kick you. 

Color Wheel

November 14, 2007

I miss your blue cashmere coat

Your black Honda CRX

Our white bird house

The yellow dollhouse doorbell

Your moments of pink compassion

That seem to have been replaced

by this sea-green depth between us.

boiled eggs

I am realizing a great many things these days

like the 

should have dealt with this differently feelings

of unsophistication 

that accompany

the filling of voids with 

drunken desperate fucks

on late lonely Saturday nights

and hazy early Sunday mornings

rife with ulterior motives

and hiding true feelings

with a thin veil of 

Cool Hand Luke indifference

slipping through the floor boards

when the warden ain't lookin'

the "i don't want anything serious" lies 

told when one knows they have 

failed

and been cast aside

thrown away

the unwanted 

wanting so much

having no idea what we really want 

at all

wishing we could eat 50 boiled eggs 

to prove our worth

ain't nobody can eat 50 eggs.

sanity

I want that right-brained brilliance

that accompanies mental illness.

That invisible inner-cerebral muse

whispering a poetic genius.

I want that megalomania -

The imagined greatness

born of melancholy

raised by decades

and immortalized in anthologies.

The sexual deviancy in the past

that haunts and whispers

"write

write

write

and be brilliant."

Late Nights (a haiku)

It is scary how

little it actually

has to do with love.