to carve a mocking word

do you know what's wrong with our generation?
we don't carve big hearts into the bellies of big oaks
like our parents and grandparents did before us
we never painstakingly etch-out the initials of our lovers
is it because pocket knives no longer represent innocent boyhood revelry?
(see also: boxcutter terrorism)
or is it because we've witnessed too many of our childhood trees disappear
and we just can't be bothered anymore?

a child's first matinee

a looming theatre before his eyes
gaze fixed upon a velvet sea of red
still but a child entranced by its aisles
so in awe of it all, let it be said
booming voices fill the air with clamour
curtains rise to reveal a broad new world
his senses 'roused by all of the glamour
from lips to audience; tongues unfurled
villains and heroes and lovers' quarrels
his heart skips a beat; his breath surrenders
cruel ironies rest upon morals
captivated by stellar pretenders
that theatre taught him about romance
he'll never forget the casts performance

vengence

george bush jr.
the american public
the twin towers
drones
satellite footage
the CIA
pakastani intelligence

let's face it
osama bin laden
might be history's
greatest hide 'n go seek player
part of me hopes they took their time
the other part wonders what drove him to such extremes?

le petit castor

i'm on your
fire escape
the air is warm
and inviting
you are dreaming
sound asleep
le petit castor
plays their music
ever so loudly
i listen to drunkenly
fun girls
try to sing
take on me, take me on
i'll be gone
in a day or two
they are
so wonderfully
out of key
most people
usually are
with that one
i probably will
be gone
in a day or two
but only if you ask
me to be
you look so beautiful
finding dreams

love must be answered if it is to prosper

dearest anteros,

it is with great desperation that i pen this letter to you. my repeated pleas to eros have fallen on deaf ears. it is your arrows of lead that i now pledge my dying allegiance to. my heart is tragically nearing its last beat and i find myself strangely comforted by such a discovery. the world as i know it is imploding upon me and i can no longer breathe in her absence. oh grace our world with your plumed wings, great avenger of unrequited love. bestow upon me this gift that i desire with such dire conviction and i will flood her heart with a love unrivaled in this lifetime.

very sincerely,

michael

my drug of choice

she is a breath
of fresh air
so much so in fact
that if a team of scientists
were to get their latexed hands on her
she'd likely be synthesized into
the newest ant-depressant craze

fidelity and other myths

he no longer believes in love
it comes and it goes
like the latest craze
like new cellular phones
everybody's down for an upgrade
trade-ins always welcomed
nothing is sacred
everything is non-binding
love is just another lonely noun
no longer worth fighting for
it's all there in the cold legality of it
the larger print that is used
in conjunction with fine print
is ingenuously used by the merchant
in effect to deceive the consumer
into believing the offer is more
advantageous than it really is
via a legal technicality
which requires full disclosure
of all (even unfavorable) terms
or conditions, but does not specify
the manner (size, typeface, colouring, etc.)
of disclosure
he'll always be her friend
really, he will
but he'll never be anyone's lover again
her fifteen minutes of fame
was killing the beat of a poet
who no longer believes in love
and what else is there?
especially for a poet
whose words have been made a mockery of

adelaide

i'm starting to feel
like just maybe
you're no longer
deserving
of all the ways
that i dream up
to make you feel
immensely special
all the time
you most certainly
deserve
to be made
to feel
that way
every moment
of every day
but maybe
someone else
should
make it happen
because i'm still
dreaming up
new and inventive ways
to make you feel
insanely special
only you're not around
to accept them
i miss your
expressions
of surprise
and genuine
appreciation
my day
is so much emptier
when i can't
make you feel
satiably special
in my own kind of way

aphorism

i was an atheist for a period
when i was younger
it was more black & white then
there simply was no god
i was pretty convinced
then i heard a line in a film
that resonated within me
there are no atheists in fox holes
even with a memory
you wouldn't entrust a locker combo to
that line has always stuck with me
it helped shape the agnostic views
i carry around with me today
i hadn't prayed since i was a child
but we know and love someone
who's recently been dealt
one of life's fucked up curve balls
and it breaks our hearts
to learn that she is going through this
religion is very important to you
perhaps you've even prayed for me once or twice?
so i figured that it was a worthy cause
to try and say a prayer for our loved one
it certainly could not have hurt anyone
and so last night
for the first time since i was a child
i knelt beside my bed
closed my eyes
clasped my hands
and bowed my head
i kept an open mind and gave it my very best for her
what i said stays between myself and a god that may or may not exist

the vending scene

she deposits
just enough
into my
coin aperture
to keep me
in service
but
infrequently
enough
to keep me
out of photos
idle i stand
spilling out
my contents
for her
to absorb
with little-
to-no
investment
my return
is minimal
she deposits
just enough
to keep me

gropeon (95% of clothes off)

i can actually
taste you
from memory
seriously
i've loved
every chapter
of our
sexual history
honestly
I refuse
to believe
that we're through
learning
from each other
not so clandestinely
we have
new experiences
not yet realized
sincerely
over think
a cover letter
don't
over think
this
us
naked
and
educating
beyond the classroom
behind mostly closed curtains
we kind of like
that someone might see in

don't judge a single by its cover

i went to sonic boom
three times today
all three times i made purchases
the past couple of years
i've done the entire circuit
of independent record stores in the city
but it poured and i have a faltering knee
i spent about half as much today
as i did a year ago
i just can't help but love the exclusivity
i found a deerhunter seven inch
limited to 800 copies worldwide
the only reason it was still there
on my third visit of the day
was because it wasn't clearly labeled
nowhere on the cover does it say deerhunter
it just says the song title memory boy
i had it in my hands the first time around
and like so many others
i passed it by
after doing some research
i panicked and ran back to the store
they still had several passed over copies
so many people are going to kick themselves
that was such a good find
i might even open it tonight
and take a needle to it

steal all my records screw all my friends

it's record store day
i didn't get the two
must haves
on my wish list
as far as i know
no one in this particular city did
we split up to cover more ground
the ship sank before it ever sailed
radiohead released a twelve inch
limited to 2000 copies
you had to be in the uk
to have a bloody chance in hell
ryan adams released a double seven inch
orange and yellow vinyl
limited to 2500 copies
not a single one found its way to toronto
i'm going to light a candle
and listen to the records i did get
with a smile on my face
and the rain coming through the ceiling

while you were sleeping

it really did
break my heart
when i
packed
you a lunch
complete
with a
hiiden note
and you
failed to
ever mention it

charisma

the sun is shining
on our big city today
you received
some good news
this morning
you telephoned to tell me
it made both of us smile
this office is stagnant
the stairwell creeks with your ghost
it feels so sedated
without your energy
your charisma
in bloom plays on the radio
it feels so appropriate
with the weather and what not
i'm impressed with the radio man
he's playing two in a row by nirvana
this time it's about a girl
the best ones always are

pitter patter

it is
probably
going to rain
again
but our parade
probably
won't mind
our parade
probably
didn't even intend
on the sun to shine
so things are looking up
with closed eyes
these drops are unapologetic
someone could really poke an eye out

101

some people just don't click
chemistry is not a science
or at least not an exact one
at least i think anyways
i never really studied it
so what would i know?
i'm just thinking out loud

a brief stop over in codex, AZ

the heaviest
most cathartic
piano chords
march atop the beat
of a working heart
white lightning flourishes
trickle over tin roof weighted keys
and the softest of howls
preceding a voice so draining
it bleeds both gloom and hope
all in the same soprano breath
expelling poetic imagery
for us to fully absorb
forming words that speak of
the water being clear and innocent
just maybe this could be our song after all?

you make it so easy

there are volumes
of unwritten poetry
in every moment
that we share
it's sometimes dizzying
with so many words
swirling in circles
dancing around my head
i want to reach out
and grab kiss
by the serif
place it on your lips
and swallow it

frenzy

lose-your-breath
stop-your-heart
body-succumbing
mind-blowing sex
always feels the best
with the perfect balance
of dirtiness and tenderness

something worth mending

we can mend
we should maybe try
the way we laugh
how we can cry
the way we care
how we can surrender
the way we fit
how we can remember
our connection
is something worth mending

i wrapped it myself

i made you something
in the style of a ransom note
441 painstaking little letters later...
you have something to show for it
on a canvas meant for a wall
but it'll gladly settle for under your bed
because some things
are worth seeing through
to the very end
if i could do it all over again
i'd trade in my stubby fingers and right-handed scissors
for some shiny tweezers and a razor sharp razor blade
just like they use in the movies
binding separation was written
555 days ago
i wrote it for you
13,320 hours ago
i bled it out
799,200 minutes ago
and i still mean every last word of it
i really do
47,952,000 seconds ago
when it still made sense
in the present tense
to both of us
maybe someday some of it will be available in print
maybe even in an indigo aisle
where pretty girls go to feel good lost

here's to reinvention, charlie...

oh there you are, rooftop. where have you been all my winter?

the sunshine feels so good on my face
this day is perfect for holding hands

shout i need somebody

i'm not sure what i hate more
daytime or nighttime
perhaps they're equally insufferable

regret-me-nots

the most sinking feeling
there is to be felt
is looking into your lover's eyes
only to find regret
nothing prepares you for that
it makes you feel cheap
because that look makes you feel
like you've made her feel cheap
when nothing could be further from the truth
it's more vicious
than cruel words
in a screaming match
it cuts you in half
minces you and laughs
looking into your lover's eyes
only to find
all kinds of regret

our objective

i faced that mean old subway
thinking of what you said
the entire way
on both trains
you've given me the courage
to fight my way through this
i'm not so scared of everything
i'd be lying if i didn't admit
to leaving a few more tears
on these beaten keys
but i promise you
that there's nothing
but feel good songs
coming through the speakers
and sunlight from the window
i'll never be able to repay you
for being there for me last night
but i'm sure as hell going to try
every minute that you give
means the world

bedroom confession

i smoke way too many cigarettes
and i don't want to smoke at all anymore
but i'm in pretty deep this time
so i thought i could use some help
my doctor prescribed champix
the pharmacist explained it
i started taking them on thursday
by sunday my world collapsed
i had already been suffering
from unrequited love
i had already been dealing
with post-ativan anxiety
the depression is always there with me
i've learned to cope with it mostly
but sunday my world collapsed
everything bad has been magnified
by a thousand times or more
i can't sleep for more than two hours at a time
last night i had vivid dreams and nightmares
that are still haunting me today
i'll never repeat them to anybody
i can barely see through the tears to write this
i should have been at work an hour ago
i'm sick to my stomach and can't keep anything down
i'm weak from not eating and tired from dreaming
i just read the fine print in the fancy champix packaging
and i'm flushing every last fucking one of them
i'm going to try to work today
and try to smile for friends
which will be only half
as bad as being alone tonight
caught in a strange and terrifying hell
the likes of which i've never known
i'm scared
i'm shaking
i'm terrified

nasolacrimal

the way
you look
at me
makes me
so lonely
think of
the last
leaf
on the
big oak
tree
in autumn
waiting
to fall
to be
with
the others
think of
winter
without
spring
think of
tasting
tears
nightly
think of
a bed
too big
for one
think of
tear ducts
with
nothing
left to
offer
think of
comes around
without
goes around

a fantasy without an ass that you could bounce a quater off of

i'm only good at selling
and nothing much else
i'm so good in fact
that pretty soon
i'll talk the night watchman
of a tall toronto building
into believing
that i belong
that i'm legit
in my best
blue-collared blues
and leather tool belt
with a rooftop access pass
i'll elevator up
to the highest story
that
that high rise
has to offer
a desperate man
i hate heights
they terrify me
but i'd rather soar
than hold up the subway
i used to commute
i hate delays
i know you do too
we'll both be better off
i'll think of you
with the few seconds
i don't have left

i'm sending flowers

because it's a rainy monday
and because it's not valentines day
because you are my sweetheart
and because it's not the same without you

best friends for keeps

this will be my last entry
i've shared too much already

la fin du monde

i'll
never
get sick of hearing the words
do anything you want to me

96

we're best friends
positioned at opposite ends
grabbing ankles
or spreading cheeks
is optional of course
it's what's in the middle
that really counts

(it's said that such a position can be awkward for partners of varying heights)

i call bullshit

i call commence

GOODNESS

MMM

a brief history of wasted time

saturday night at lee's palace
with kevin
when we walked in
liked we owned
the place
and forgot to pay
like kings
a random girl said
you have such cool hair
i said
thanks, i haven't heard that one before
she said
what?
what do you mean?
i said
you're pick-up line
it's unique
(wink)
she said
fuck you
i turned to the bartender and said
another 50!
please

hop, skip and a jumbo jet

she is 8403 nautical miles away from me
on a boat in the middle of the sea
with her best friends in the world
living the way it should always be
that's 9670 miles or 15,562 kilometers
away from me
at sea
when
even just one inch
between us when we sleep
is far too much for me
just ask her
go ahead
she's spent enough nights
pinned up against the wall
to concede
that i need her more than close

to image nuclei of atoms inside the body of romantic rights

i've been around (some)
i've heard it all (mostly)
and let me tell you (with a grain of salt)
toronto western hospital
has an MRI machine
that's louder than
toronto's death from above
any day of the week

sure
there's less melody
but more conclusive results
(let's hope)

to be
or not to be
invasive surgery?

that is the black history month question

either way
i miss DFA1979
almost more
than any practicality
my right knee
ever
served

you're a woman, i'm in an MRI machine

wearing the tokyo skyline on your face

if i could be anywhere
in the world right now
i'd be in the 52nd minute
of lost in translation
in the back seat of a taxi cab
i'd be a sleepy bill murray
and you'd be scarlett johansson
wearing the tokyo skyline on your face
we'd let sometimes
by my bloody valentine
take us the rest of the way
and i'd carry you to your room
slipping off your shoes
erasing the tokyo skyline from my face

adjacent balustrades

settled into our alcove
high above the sounds of revelry
exploring each other's anatomy
synched with the street lights
green red yellow gadgetry
our tongues write calligraphy
on pinkish fleshy upholstery
we tear all your hosiery
inappropriately
to tatters
proportionately
measured
by our all
enveloping
orgasms
we swallow the world

in a word: poetry

broken edison cylinder

daydreaming
of a phonograph
from 1877
with paraffin paper
strong enough
to reach you
in 2011

daydreaming
of a phonograph
from 1877
with paraffin paper
strong enough
to suck out
a response
from your otherwise
silent diaphragm

lovefuck

guttural pornography
starring me
and open mouths
fitting snug
and fusing us
starring her
guttural pornography
starring us
and open mouths

it would take a thousand pianos
a thousand years
to build a crescendo
even somewhat comparable
to this
and open mouths
to us
fitting snug

my little lovefuck

amen

when i was a young boy
i remember thinking
that girls were so neat
i wasn't sure what cooties were
but i knew even then
that i wanted some

alpha bravo charlie

this is my wingspan.

it's wide enough
to fully encompass
you.

it has
and it will again.

delicious.

this is my wingspan.

it reaches out
to fully envelop
you.

it did
and it shall again.

ambrosial.

when you touch down
i'm going to show you
the uncharted maps
of our atlases
at last.
i promise
you
that.

i'm going to reach for inches
that we knew were there
but we never really found.

this is my wingspan.

it'll devour your tiny frame.
it'll suck your breath
and pull you in.

as soon as
you touch down.

we'll touch everything.

mouthwatering

the week's end

friday night i watched a band play at a bar
they really shook the place
i even danced around some
and was happy to bump into old friends
even if they were just stagnant acquaintances
at best
nothing is really new with them
i was happy to report the same of myself
saturday night i slept on the most unforgiving couch
i tossed and tuned unremittingly
ad nauseam
just praying for the springs to impale me
hoping so perilously
sunday night i went to a minor hockey game
with my father
it was exactly what i needed

just dragonflies fantasize

if i close my eyes really tight

i can almost see the shore
i can almost hear the breeze
i can almost feel your sandy toes
touching mine


if i close my eyes really tight
and open my mind really wide

i can almost see the sea
i can almost hear the waves
i can almost feel my racing heart
touching yours

if i close my eyes really tight
and open my mind really wide
and push out all the car alarms and sirens

i can see your smile
i can hear your voice
i can feel your racing heart
exploding mine

i can feel my sandy toes
touching yours

who cares

here's what i see:
this stupid screen
this wretched cursor
this so called technology
right in front of me
for all to see
and an almost empty bottle
that i drank
solely
to help inspire me
to help
get it out of me
finally

gone is the romance
of the blank white page
that constant reminder
that you've yet to
write a single thing
and the crumpled disregards
surrounding me
strewn about
everywhere but inside
the waste paper basket
that we used to see
in movies about writers
like fante, see...
it's too damn easy
now
just to find something
that stimulates
in a new window
control plus shift plus w

what a fucking mess we've made

really