10/22/12 2pm
embossed paper
(fear of littering)
there’s something beautiful about this
napkin catching the wind while a glass
of water weighs it down.
marvelling at what the fear of littering
can create.
i would say it’s complete bullshit, but if
i believed that this would not have made
it here.
even as i raise my glass to my mouth
a hand finds the weight needed to keep
this embossed paper in place.
the breeze settling will determine my
moments of thirst.
10/22/12 2:05pm
a stopping point
if i could only find comfort in a stopping point.
if i could only find a stopping point in comfort.
you’ll find it but not while you’re here.
your only fear should be dying comfortably.
10/22/12 1:04pm
a holiday that was
i can’t recall if today is an ex-girlfriends birthday.
is this a test for how to tell if somebody who
meant something means nothing to you now?
i imagine the day I was born means about as
much as the day i was conceived to her.
today marks a holiday that was.
10/16/12 5:53pm -11/10/12 11:43am
just add water
being outside is no better than being
inside with this weather.
as the rains alternates between picking
up & slowing down the drops appear
to move about sporadically.
electrons revolving around puddles.
watch how people react when you just
add water.
there is no harm in getting wet.
there is no use for a towel if it dries
without staining.
the reflection of minature birds and
aircrafts travel by puddle to get where
they are going.
it keeps startling me when turning the
corner of my eye.
a drop of water lands on my notepad
soaking in to smear my ink.
making it’s mark on my history.
10/16/12 7:20pm – 11/10/12 11:29am
less history
the light from a lit room escapes through a window.
i can only imagine from outside what it would be like inside.
any room would be better than the one i’ve decorated.
gladly i’d trade these walls for a few with less history.
10/16/12 6:45pm
a pen worth no cap
i’m only writing to seem like i’m doing
something interesting in front of two girls.
once again only writing to appease the
appearance of purpose.
i ash at my own words.
there’s a special place in hell for those
who waste ink & there is where you
will find me.
filling only my mouth with smoke that l
ungs would desire.
giving off the aura of a pen worth no cap.
opening my mouth to vomit an empty stomach.
10/6/12 1:30am – 11/29/12 3:30am
hiding my shame
(the line ignored)
where i thought i drew the line
is actually what i’m stepping in
if you show me yours i’ll show you mine
is the jist of what i said to him
& it’s alright
our age combined fit on two hands
with room to spare beneath the nails
they were chewed before myself began
to ask, “why not between two males?”
a smooth transition into confusion
comes to fruition out of illusion
we were close enough to call family
when mind led blind behind closed doors
& still no sight of what came over me
& it’s alright to lose sight of the line ignored
a smooth transition into confusion
comes to fruition out of illusion
& it’s alright to lose sight of the line ignored
when mind led blind behind closed doors
10/5/12 10:07am -10/12/12 9:32pm
with tilted heads
sitting alone facing tables for two
leaves options for entertainment
left to my own diversions i view
questionable seating arrangements
did he pick this diner for her?
or did he pick her from the diner?
any place of brick and mortar
any words to lay beside her
she’s nursing a drink that’s older than her
he’s a seemingly less attractive guy
together their two consenting adults
feigning interest in day to day life
he’s making fun of a different pair
sharing the same side of a booth
with tilted heads they sit & stare
at this public display of youth
but her smile is just a reaction
to a joke she’s heard before
his hands mistake it for attraction
which she pretends to ignore
he’s aware he will never know her
since it’s only this night he’s after
it’s not that she places him below her
his intentions are not the matter
how could she learn somebody who
could be with somebody like her?
chance encounters predetermined to
end much sooner than it later
another expiration date that ends
exchanging words for bodily fluids
& what is left of their second winds
will be spent somewhere that i can’t view it
10/4/12 1:16am – 10/4/12 3:33am
personal language
under the sheets is where he meets
to converse late at night with himself
he takes his time to contruct this rhyme
that will wind up sitting on a shelf
hours go by with no one to reply
to the plenty he’s already said
it is the soundless completely boundless
personal language of only his head
deep in this quiet unnerving silent
lays his voice he has since forgotten
from the absense of sound to his lost & found
it will return to the mouth it is not in
10/3/12 1:04pm
a rough patch
i missed a spot shaving and already
wish i’d never noticed it.
only one person has laid eyes on it,
but i can’t help thinking it’s all they
will see.
it’s ironic to shake my confidence by
the shave meant to steady it in the first place