this and that

my hands are warped
and i am down on my luck again
i dreamed of you, see
you were so far
i let go
i tried to hold on
really, i did
until the sun took you

took you further
until you were the size of a tack
floating out there in space
and music filled your ribs
and you called out
but i got distracted
and you wrote something on your hand and held it high for me to see

my teeth spilled all over the walk
i think you may have laughed
and you sounded all these god awful alarms
that rang from every crack
and poured from every pore
and fell from all the feel

what did you write to me
on that itty bitty hand of yours

screw you

watch where you step

three ants got separated
from the group
they circle and lose file
tall blades tickle my face
so much movement
down here
an entire world
beneath
they pause to let the drunken beetle pass
i wonder
if i scream at such close proximity
will I render them deaf
do ants even have ears
three ants hustle back into sequence
now it’s just me and the beetle
i think i’ll pour him another

now that you're gone

i’m walking on sunshine

from this dark place

four thousand miles from

bags packed shoes laced

no soldiers no lover’s arms

just my empty case

and i’ve carried the weight of worlds

but never been no place

and it’s okay to wanna to cry

tell her that you’re gonna try

waking up with her beside

remember what that feels like?

your distance likes it far

it blows my mind

remembering montreal

what time is your flight?

i heard you are having fun

not me not tonight

but i promise a better life

if you can find the time?

and it’s okay to want to cry

tell her that you’re gonna try

waking up with her beside

remember what that feels like?

i travel through neighborhoods

you jump continents

we’ll meet in the middle dear

well now that depends

I check the mail slot

for letters never sent

now it’s you that’s slipping from

maybe it’s just not meant

and it’s okay to wanna cry

tell her that you’re gonna try

waking up with her beside

remember what that feels like?

broken down and used all up

keeping on with just a shrug

trading pills for human touch

remember what that feels like?

remember what that feels like?

remember what that feels like

well...check the list again dude!

when i am at the pearly gates
i dream of peter
slouch and wait
he towers above
and deals in fate
the cards they fall
at heaven’s gate
when I am at the pearly gates
i dream of peter
passing grades
security guard
or lowly saint?
when I recall,
i’ve sinned in ways
that would shame the devil
in his darkest days
declining stocks
admission rates
row on row
wear dreary face
turnstiles roll
commuter delays
when i am at the pearly gates
i’ll hop the fence and shield my face

climbing through windows

if ever there was a place that was truly ours
it was high above the floor
and wrapped in augusta walls
we, the insatiable
we, sleep deprived
we, the rehearsal
for the rest of our lives
the door was ajar
it never did fully close
but we didn’t mind much
we had noise to expose
and the boys, they giggled
and the girls, they blushed
we wrote on the ceiling
both foreign in touch
we delivered the signals
elongated lust
we sought the delay
of carnal unclutch
our words were stimulants
our tongues, then sedatives
our skin it crawled
our minds, they melted
sit around and clean their face with it
keep streets from the bedding
her only insistence
was shed all outside threading
a strange looking bloak from wellingborough
stood and stared
school on the morrow
he folds 'cause he cares
up the ladder and down the rabbit hole
we forgot it in people

something moving

she sat on my bed and whispered
i couldn't hear her for the fan
i’d bet it was something moving
i never bothered to beg her pardon

her coattails revealed the street
i didn’t want them to touch my bed
i asked, “can i kindly remove your coat?”
she said she never did

face bill upwards

cycles roar
soap suds
people go about their washing
all in my new laundromat

the chairs are old
the walls are dull
some classical music
plays from somewhere
all in my new laundromat

the change machine is always grumpy
all in my new laundromat

a bee firebombs through the open door
the crazy lady pours in way too much
i read a few poems by bukowski
and then i write my own
they’re not nearly as good
but they’re all i’ve got
all in my new laundromat

the air is cool and its taste is fresh
my coffee is strong but it’s good
and i drink it all
all in my new laundromat

suddenly i realize
we are all strangers in a room
accompanied by every pair of underwear we’ve got
i like the look of my new ones
all in my new laundromat

i smoke a cigarette
i think of a former lover
i listen to morrissey’s lost
all in my new laundromat

a pretty girl
asks if she can
borrow a quarter
“borrow?” i question
she says, “yes.”
“it’s more fun that way,” she tells me
all in my new laundromat

Her hair is brown
and cut very short
she drops her panties into
the open-mouth abyss
i imagine fucking her right there on the washer
making a mess
while the one below her is erased
all in my new laundromat

i am more alive when my jeans tumble dry

i fold my clothes and
think of a former lover
i say goodbye
to the pretty girl
she says, “same time next monday?”
“sure,” i say

all in our new laundromat