poetry – Page 3 – mattress dungeon

coda

he says he dreamedwe went to the moviesand i asked him to whack offinto a bucket of popcorn i tell him about the warand the wounded birdhe says, that sounds stressfuldo you mind if i, uh…

they have usin a thin-walled shackwith tiny guns& not enough bullets eirann is excited to see some actionthe troops on bicyclescall me dangerousthey want to make an example there’s a wounded birdcrying like a human childi hold it gentlytelling it about the divine feminine& teaching it the ave mariaa sort of shushed lullaby the onesContinue reading “nocturne: defensive maneuvers”

international award for excellence in correspondence

let’s face the factthat today’s poetryis fucking bullshit& i’ll never Make It pro tip:when you submitdon’t pay the $50for feedback the novel formatis not working outmy voice issimple baby all i wantis to be rememberedas a wonderfulwriter of letters fuck the novelfuck the poemsfuck being a playwrightgive me stamps

absent muse blues

earlier this yeari was closer to deaththan i’d ever beenaware of beingand the calm descendedbecause isn’t that what i came forwhy else do you fly outto stay with drunk strangerswho love gunsbut the moment passedand the adrenaline fadedinto seven hourson the side of a highwaywith two cigarettesand nothing to eat i could say i amContinue reading “absent muse blues”

doubling recipes

the specific guiltof overreactionregrets over volumeexpressionand word choice but in the momentyou mean it to hurtplease take backsome of the painyou gave to me

the eternal living room

if i ever meet godi want to ask itwhy people seem to hurt mewhen i’ve been actively strainingtoward kindnessand why i was bornwith such a senseof the importance of everyone elseif this messiah complexhas any sort of purposeand why one little slightsends me sailing offon a rough sick seaof self hatredand will i ever getContinue reading “the eternal living room”

solo

you experience these momentsof sheer lonelinesslike a cliff beckonsas if you could catch the skyif you throw yourselfscreamingover the edge

there’s no I in team

they get into their carand drive to a beachthey have a good dayswimming and laughingthey eat their potato chipsand drink cold beerfrom a cooler they broughttheir skin browninguntil sunset kisses themand tells them it’s timeto go home and restthey climb into bed, sleepand when they wakethey speak of their dreamscomplex and lovelywith their breakfast sheContinue reading “there’s no I in team”

predawn shakes, broad & leo

good morningat the tonethe time will befive forty-fourand twenty-five seconds sometimes love iswaking upwhen you could sleep inso your lover doesn’thave to be alonesometimes, loveit’s hard to dothe things we need to do people tend to conflatebravery and fearlessnessas if courage has meaningwithout fear to drive it forwardas if the bravest among usaren’t defined byContinue reading “predawn shakes, broad & leo”

beach 6, pt ii

there was a letter i wroteand destroyed for youthe contents escape mebut they were probably a declarationof love with a strong dramatic flairthe destruction dramatic as wellbut i suppose destruction usually is i wonder what you felt that dayat the edge of the waterwhen i took your picture looking outand slipped a rock into myContinue reading “beach 6, pt ii”