your lack of discernment

stick the knife in. twist it twice. this is the plan for this evening.
write the letter. roll the dice. leaving you tattered and grieving.

stick the knife in. root around. stupidest idiot lover.
never tell me. not a sound. not in a whisper or stutter.

stick the knife in. i don’t mind. maybe i’d say i deserve it.
don’t remember. leave the rind. call it your lack of discernment.

her finish line

i’ll be helping you till the day i die and you’ll never run out of problems.
that itself is the problem. i find myself more enchanted day by minute.
that we’re peas in pods makes it harder. you could be balm. could be.

i’ll be choking back my feelings like whiskey: how you make me spin
like a top. i am dizzy with anticipation of the new light you’ll cast.
that we’re likewise opposites makes it harder. i’d take you. i would.

i’ll be telling you i have nothing to give till you realize i’m everything
and its shoulder: how i don’t give a fuck about what anyone thinks
except what you think. how i could carry you past. past the finish line.

my nothing

i was serious when i said i never want to talk to you again ever.
maybe you thought i was taking the piss or something but no
it’s not that it’s easier or that it’s better or that it’ something.
instead you have nothing to offer. not as a friend or as a lover.

so there you have it: why i pass you in the hall like an iceberg
with these memories these feelings so far under the surface.
so there you have it: you are nothing. and let’s be honest now.
i enjoy seeing you tell yourself that i mean nothing to you either.

your kabuki

it’s like watching trains accordion into each other slowly so slowly
and in the horror of the moment jaw glued to my shoes i eyeball
unable to blink unable to turn my head unable but to stare wildly
wide eyed at the infolding kabuki: fuck fuck fuck that’s gonna sting.

her reverse angelic

she is beautiful in so many ways. tonight i have forgotten the words
but yesterday they were on the tip of my tongue at the tip of her ear.
she is slight but not easily broken: almost gone but so very there.
she is eyes painted black standing bedside in holy reverse angelic.

she is beautiful in so many ways. i’d tell you if the spell would last
but i’m afraid if i use her name too often she will crumble to dust.
she is slight but not softspoken: her words are teeth to shoulders.
she is a psalm unlike any i have seen written on my bedpost.

she is beautiful in so many ways. i’ll repeat that lest i forget her
in the rush and thunder of a brand new weekday dawning fast.
she is slight but difficult to open: folded origami this way and that.
she is bedshaped whispering scripture tip of tongue to tip of ear.

our honest cruelty

there are so many ways to be cruel. for instance me: i am strong
and i am getting stronger by the day and i am shaking you off me
like a dog shakes himself dry. this good thing cracking like a whip.
for instance you: so strong so beautiful so much brick and mortar.

there are so many ways to be cruel. for instance in our writing
about how we almost forgot eachother yesterday but for dreams.
that good thing to remind us how it’s not over and done with.
for instance: you have fallen in love with someone just like me.

there are so many ways to be cruel. for instance me one more time:
i say honest things to crowds of people about what we are not.
i say honest things that wrap around your belly like a snake.
you say honest things about how you don’t really give a shit.

there are so many ways to be cruel. for instance: you care.
for instance: i care. for instance: we both wish it were different.
but i will never spill the beans as i know how you love to count.
i will watch you burn. i will watch to see how honest are the flames.

your heart failure

what’s going through your head. no really. what logic do you spin
on its ass to make your acid trip of a lovelife resemble reality?
i can say this much for me: i’m not fucking myself over anymore.

let me be honest: there’s nothing i’d like more than to watch you
smack your head into that invisible wall you’ve always seen.
i can say this much for myself: i’m not trying to self-destruct.

three simple questions and i’m through. are you always attracted
to the sharp implements? and is that quality what you saw in me?
and when it all hits the fan who will be there to knit you together?

answer those if you dare. though you don’t and won’t and i am
waiting with muted laughter for your finish line and heart failure.

my long walk

long walk under streetlamps and i am famished
for someone to talk to. anyone would be fine.

sidewalk splintered where an iron foot crashed
when the crews were fixing splintered pavement.
i know how you feel how you’re not so much like
the others how you’re not quite built to code.

maybe we the broken humbled different odd
bits band together or maybe we wait in lines
held fast by the wellmade to showcase not so.
maybe we fit together like gorgeous accidents.

maybe. or under streetlamps and rumored stars
breathless waiting for someone to walk over.

my dream of flame

there’s an empty place set when playing at tables and candlelight.
there’s a hollow in the old mattress ready to be junked but not yet.
there’s a box full of monody and masks playing manequin by the fire.
there’s an ageold singsong canticle written on the backs of envelopes
all saying: i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you
i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i miss you i do.

there’s a linebreak to catch a lung to catch a backbone to catch an
anything at all and call it plaster over the bareboard peeling walls.
this house is all to human with reminders of you. should be staked.
four wall blackmail and a match. swish sizzle sulfur smoke and burn.

my theme (3)

vaffanculo or go fuck yourself or today for me the vernacular.
let me do it for you and oh bobby how it’s going to hurt.
have you had joy in watching me twist and turn? fucker. liar.
i know you’ve held yourself to the party line with a wink
just to see what i would do where i would go how i would react.

smeerlap oops that’s me. sorry but reciprocity’s a bitch.
but i’ve always been the type that’d go rabid if you crossed me.
i’ve had joy in watching you grab falter fall and bruise.
i’ve held myself to the party line with the grin you recognize
the grin that terrified you so before we went to war.