I’m always writing things I gotta do under your name
But I crossed you off the list long ago
Now I’m too tired to cry
Every time I forget you
Your ghost makes a mess
Do you think I look good in distress?

I try to handle my business
But it just goes right through my hands
Grabbing light isn’t easy
When you gotta keep your fists ready
And I’m ready to lay down the pen
I’m too tired to write
I tried to let go
My hands couldn’t clutch
So much

Getting paid to solve problems
I’m working to make everything work
But you were the problem that got away
A solution made of alcohol and apathy
An apothecary of sociopathy.
Now I’m too tired to care
I gave up and let everything happen
The result is inevitable:
I’m still not the one who’s a vegetable

If we were to count
On all the broken promises
And see the negatives you’ve conjured
I’d say you’re already underground
And I’m not going to cry
But I’ll help pack the dirt
For the ceremony
In lieu of alimony


He would wait in bed

like a dog waits next to an empty bowl

He would gobble, chew, and slobber

After 10 cocktails, he wasn’t worth the bother

After 16 years on top of me

a final hit to the crotch

and I got free

He was the last possession I had

A thing I wanted so bad

and it turned out it was bad

Published in: on April 13, 2015 at 10:50 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Sitcom Lies

The sky was BLACK as cheese…
and you said you couldn’t respect me
if I wasn’t HONEST
and I said YOU watch tv all the time
And cheese COULD be that black if you leave it alone long enough
which is what you’ve done with me.
Published in: on May 29, 2014 at 11:53 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Can’t catch any break but broke

Can’t catch any break but broke
TNT the bridges and let the cinders smoke
Penniless and penisless
I stand alone
Watching more heartache
I’m unbroken and don’t get a break
Trudging on amidst the pieces’ wake
Laughing at cruel jokes.

There’re tricks I’ve made to cross the gaps
Retrace new steps,
Learn to laugh
Fuck the ferry, build a raft
Demolished tollbooths’
Exchange rate, now truth
Navigate amongst the uncouth,
Counting on new kinds of math.

With twigs and twine collected,
floating cost-free on
what I’ve erected
lies and debt surely deflected,
navigating wreckage floating
With swift strokes, not motorboating
Still alive, and still emoting
Even with no shore detected.

Published in: on August 6, 2013 at 11:06 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Red #40

I’d rather have your blood
spilt on my rug than Red #40.
I won’t settle for fake.
And the less organic, the more it stains.

I want brains, not something staged.
A bleeding heart drained to empty
Is more nifty
than fast food fairy tale gooey syrup
in thumping styrofoam facades.

If I’ve a stain to clean, so help me god,
I want it whole, unprocessed, raw.

I’m not looking to make a mess, but I guess, in the event
it wrecks, splits, breaks and leaks
It will not have been all for a boob
made of plastic, silicone or saline.

No Pinocchio aspartame lying games
Cialis snoot fabricating into flames

A real boy, all flesh and truth,
Upright and stringless is good to choose
So if I’m born to lose
Make him the genuine article
Guaranteed to be
Hand born atoms, cornfed particles

It’s hard to count on a love that will last
But easier to move on
When armed with enzymes,
scrub brush and solutions that work fast.

Published in: on May 28, 2013 at 1:53 am  Comments (2)  
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Other Ones

Do what you want
Leave if you choose
Forge greener pastures
Roll in the hay
With other ones

Make excuses if you want
I got my own
Find other hearts
And leave mine unattended
With all the other ones

Do the math
Show the work
Take the two
Break it down
Into other ones

Devise the divide
That makes us only me
Scratch the deed
That we loved each
Other once

Undo, unravel, unsee
Undermine, untie
Understand you are
Among other uns

There’s a scale
That has tipped
Ranks have slipped
Your perfect tens
Are now utter ones

You can count on this:
Roll the dice
Snake eyes will wink
They know your loss
While the other won.

Published in: on January 27, 2013 at 2:06 am  Comments (1)  
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