Matters over Mattress


It’ll be much easier
to lie on a bed of Nails
than the one you made for me
Matters over mattress
Our bodies used to curve;
Two serpents, swerved
And bent into softness
With a slow hiss
But goodness,
Your venom!
Rather, I’ll be spread out
Balancing on 2,000 tips
Simultaneously feeling every
One digging in
Aware, and glad
To know I can feel this happening
That I can just choose to fall asleep
And in my dreams
I don’t worry about you visiting

I can make my own bed
Imagine my own comfort
Outside of your demands
Use my own hands
Context over texture
The rapid squeeze
You don’t understand
Whisper hiss
Buzz and grind
I’ll be making sweet
With feels and dreams
Conjuring fields and streams
And take up whatever space
I want in this bed


You’re uncouth and it’s unbearable
In fact I find it terrible
You can’t have what you don’t get
I’m miss understood
and you’re miss interpret
Bitch, it hurts when you talk like those ugly men
And I don’t wanna relive that again
Make a story where I’m crazy
To tell all your friends
And forget the parts where I got screwed by you
Each tightening twist that ensued
How you said I was rude and your folds
Left me gasping for air I was due
For my honesty, I got speculation
And for effort, I got no reciprocation
For your vile remarks, and my retort in barks
When I should have responded with automation?
Fuck that! I held even more back
And now I’m holding it all
You have no access
To the lessons I gathered
from this mess of effort
I have too many storms to weather
To try to be ever-present
For someone who just doesn’t get it
To care is to treasure the memories
Self-reflection is not your enemy
Having the last word is not important to me

Published in: on November 12, 2018 at 10:09 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Game for 1

You built a fantasy I didnt create

You filled in the blanks

And signed my name

You rolled the dice and moved my piece
bet on the wrong deal
and lost your fleece

I’m finding out who you’re bein’
The dead end your facing
And the ghosts you’re seein’

I’ve gone round and round to dizziness
I signed a different contract
And I mind my business

I’m stacking pages in this wicked lore
Spread that ink
And shake that core

All these sheets of ink and beds that sink
I sleep in the middle
And you still drink

And I’ve shredded everything that binds
Shed obligation
And crossed the lines

To be alone with myself, rediscovered
A free agent
I float and don’t hover

I checked my strength, checked my hits
On my own,
I know I got this

I asked to play, not compete
And what’s the point
When you just cheat?

Published in: on December 29, 2017 at 12:01 am  Leave a Comment  
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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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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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The Transfiguration of the Ballroom Belle

We used to dance cheek to cheek
Now I’m going check to check
without a buck
and woes strung like weights ’round my neck
You feckless fuck
I’m such a shipwreck and in the muck
and heck I’ve had no luck
with pricks that peck
and expect a suck
The world is just a hex 
and I’m left moonstruck,
hoping for higher grounds;
promises sought in orbs so round 
like rings that never took;
that shine like silver things 
that caught my eye-
just dancing light upon the brook
Or a hook in hookers’ mouths,
I’d feed on lures
in hopes of nourishment
so I could reach the sea,
where vast waters
let the moon dance upon unbroken rippling
But tides will break
like my wave-worn heart
and there’re some shores
I’ll never reach
Eddies and Johns twirl me round 
and spit me into the muddy breach
In my god-damned fate, 
no floodgate will free my gills
from miry bogs 
I’m stuck and gasp, evolving legs
till I’m a frog, unkissed 
dismissed in trysts,
I’ll claim a fly for a best friend
chew him up and regurgitate him over and over again
But what waits for discarded creatures
such as I,
with bodies submerged and eyes to the sky?
I can bellow and croak- 
(it’s all just midnight’s white noise)
and dream of overall front pockets on dirty little boys.
Published in: on November 8, 2012 at 10:23 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Bad Investments

Your liabilities outweigh your assets
But I still invested
In us.
Your name in red parenthesis,
Inked with blood from my overdrawn heart
Our deficit, a grim report
Charts dipping into great depressions
Negativity on every telling page
Bouncing reality checks 
You spend everything on nothing to show
forgotten unclaimed bonds
now rendered unpayable
made some risky trades that did not pay off
and perhaps diversified a little too much
on shady start-ups
and now your crippling debt to love
has you pawning prized possessions
maybe you should have put everything in mutual funds
I hear they’re safe
and stashed away some love for those rainy days
and invested in real estate
(if you keep it for a long, long time, it appreciates)
but it’s too late now
and very sad your heart went bankrupt
Published in: on April 26, 2012 at 1:02 am  Leave a Comment  
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Half Handed Hope

Half handed hope
leaves room
to grope fantasies
palm wide,
for reality
to collide in loose grasps
pawing warm laps,
to dog ear chapters of chaps
summoned from the past.
Half handed grace
a space for
honest evaluation
given to temptation
Mistakes in the making
Roads untaken
Uncharted stumbles
brought by
Empty hands who’ve caught on
To devour and shake bare
The covered skin left there
Half handed love
Ventricles spurting through
Gloves, fingerprints at crimes
And apprehensive minds
Stealing a glance taking a
chance with sordid fates
Mismatched mates’ scarlet spectrums,
Electrons, fusing with dopamine fools
bartering with ropes and pulleys  pulled
fully engaged in nothing much
but transitory transactions
with traction and such
Half Handed faith
surrender displaced,
proof displayed in vile
cages of contagious spite, delight
in firm beliefs
yet still bereaved
clapped away in shoddy locks
but perps will
walk free and believe
in themselves but ask for help
nevermind, I’m doing well
enough to tell tales of 
broken wings and my dreams
crushed by the escaping  
Published in: on April 20, 2012 at 10:34 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The illusionist

You said the magic was gone.
I was wrong
To sit wide-eyed and entertained, awed
For so long
No mystical charm exists.
It’s only tricks,
Illusions I insisted on believing
Bereaving supernatural fancies
So exquisitely performed
Watching you pull helpless animals from hats
And this fool dared clap?!
Snot soaked hankies turned to carnations,
pick a card any card but hearts.
And I knew when you,
Pulling silver dollars from my ear,
How clear, my dear, it was a fraud
but I was wrong.
There’s slight of hand,
And then there’s slight of heart.
It’s hard to tell the two apart.
Introduce the final act:
Saw the woman in half
Published in: on March 14, 2012 at 12:45 am  Leave a Comment  
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House of Cards

Sweet dreams
to all the kings
and queens
in my house of cards.
Sounds of shuffling dulled,
Jokers fooled into discard piles,
Fanned hands face down,
Spades scooping for ground,
Wagers surrendered in whole.
Draw pile pillows 
stocked with diamonds
I’m in
ceilings of hearts
tempting a tumble.
The hand dealt:
bent aces and one-eyed jacks,
cracks too wide to balance
Kingdoms long abandoned
and gambled
for greener felt
poker table pastures,
asking for hits just past 21.
3 of a kind,
We’ll find
a full deck
Worth playing with;
Fair games,
glossy new coats.
empty sleeves
and no bluffing.
Published in: on March 5, 2012 at 12:14 am  Leave a Comment  
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You cannot fuck me dry
You may be void of feeling
and feeling me may be
the only time you feel
There is no end to my well,
well, you will still
be empty
I am full of the juice you want,
but also the blood
that makes my heart pump
Teeming with intensity
in emotion, rejected,
erected, you bury apathy
into me as if it is medicine
I know you better than
Your health
is a fable
and I am racing
to die first
since you thirst
to be alone
on your throne,
the king of oblivion
who can polish
his own damn sceptre
with dry fucking hands.
Published in: on February 7, 2012 at 9:47 am  Leave a Comment  
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Verbal Suicide

My words,

not just falling on deaf ears,

but splattering them

like the concrete

under a suicide jumper

with a resounding thud.

I’ve casted them like leagues of lemmings

hurling towards the ocean

and have spewed the thoughts and drops

siphoned from the bottom of my heart.

Now I am only dry heaving and running the pump dry.

I can’t give enough, change enough, do enough, say enough

I’ve loved enough, served enough, understood enough, had enough

To make lonely men jealous you are mine

Yet I’m a swine, more boorish than boring

My 1st amendments hog-tied

Into telepathic snorts

And now we’re out of sorts

For this vowed eternity

Playing house in front of a live audience

That never laughs



Published in: on February 3, 2012 at 12:18 am  Leave a Comment  
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Mid-Life Carisis

Neglect can kill old love
(If you forget the routine maintenance, that engine will not turn over)
and infatuation’s brand new car feeling
can masquerade as a reliable vehicle for escape.
When it breaks, don’t fix it;
get a new one.
I sure wish you would restore this old vintage beauty
and take her for a spin around the block and down the lane into the sunset.
The memories will serve you with more sentiment and cockle warming affection
than the empty reflection while seated behind the wheel of a
freshly factory delivered import that is 90% plastic.


I have been clear
I have been direct
I don’t insinuate
still you reject
all the ways I care
now I don’t dare
to talk.

I’m beside myself
but still alone
you’ve checked out
so has my clone
the lack of change
is still the same
but I’m not to blame

I’ve played the game
Of Stepford wives and bedroom whores
The thanks I get is a Cold War
And cold shoulder over ice in cocktail cups
I’ve had enough
I’ve given up.

But the lioness deep down roars
To fight for the man you once were
Regardless of fruitless scars
I’ve earned
I suppose I’m still willing to be burned

…for a cause worth fighting for.

Published in: on January 5, 2012 at 12:43 am  Comments (4)  
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My heart is a hoarder

I don’t need a butler
I need a soul mate
You selfish fuck
You’ve discarded love for the clink in your cup
My heart is a hoarder
Every dirty scrap of love
Is in here somewhere
But I’m nowhere, like you
buried under guilt and grime
Ashamed to let my children see
I’ve held to precious things too long
Until it makes me ill
And I can’t find what I’m looking for
Your caviar and coat tails
Will not clear a magic path
To aortic spasms
Memorial chasms
From diaries stacked lifetime high
Deluged in rivers of nights left lonely
And mountains made of apathy
Covering the spans of space
Inside me where you seldom return
I have a big fucking shovel
And a rented 2 ton trash bin
At my ready
All you have to do is
Look in my eyes and
Give me your time

Published in: on January 5, 2012 at 12:25 am  Leave a Comment  
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She was rusted shut

I am shaking the rust off;

you dance below

as if it is snow

and you are a child


with joy.

once I shine

I will be with you boy

our new start

will be


to blinding

and I am finding

corrosion through tears

just puts me

in proverbial junkyards,

a discard.

it’s this hard

to say sorry,

scrub myself clean,

ask wizards for hearts,

abide in your

absurd dreams.

I’m the trophy of redemption,

the machine of simpatico,

and a tool

with rosy cheeks,

ready for the sequel

to my virgin ignition

You are the oil of ambition

to reach a place like home.

Published in: on December 27, 2011 at 12:49 am  Comments (2)  
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Venge Binge

Wait up for me, boy

and you best leave the light off for me

you don’t wanna see me comin’

through the dark

I’ll be pregnant with rage

and you’re due to be the daddy

I wanna see the whites of your eyes

sunny side up,

your liver paired wonderfully with onions

an’ I won’t cry a single tear

I’ll be pounding you into skirt steak

with the knife set we got on our wedding day

and wearing the cloven hoofed cherry red stilettos

I bought on your credit

to match the splatters

every speck, atonement

for every drop of chardonnay, scotch and keystone

that replaced your vows

and how

I quit scoring my skin

to quiet your heart

and now mine screams

to tear yours through your ribs beating

to be julienned

and marinated in the cabernet reduction

it deserves

and for dessert,

your coque eclair

sans hair

on our formal china set

in the kitchen

with a candlestick

Published in: on June 19, 2011 at 10:21 pm  Comments (2)  
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