Thursday, October 28, 2010

he could see the writing on the wall
his house wasn't his house anymore
he inherited his father's disappointments
and he could not
would not
build a home 
on a desolate ocean of discontent
such as his

Flashback: March 16, 1998

                                                 in
late days                                       and
bargaining late hours                            of
                                         every ache
                                         everything
and anything
besieged by deliberate
sharp edges of burning temper
which is delinquently sore
in every respect                                 is
washed away by                          nothingness

touch

the
absolute
innocence                           lying calmly on

solipsism's ladder of words                    sank
                              vessels of perception
                                              which
is read                                      killed
in one of three
thousand ways

i don't know
which one                                   the way
                                          the arrow
                                            of time
                                                was

Thursday, October 21, 2010

she quashed this family
  without mercy
this ragtag group of people
  poisoned with sarcasm
  drunk to stupor with self-pity
with the ease of an 
  understated gesture of kindness 
  of giving a plumb
to a scared and distracted 
  little girl
  wrapped in city's crazy crowd

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

we penciled our wars in
our fears and insecurities
like a multiple choice exam
a is a rejection
melancholia is a b
bad sex is a c
and d happens to be
sins of withdrawal from
sweaty erotica
and we get to clean 
the museum of individual guilt 
that we build out of our history
our memory
if we succeed