Friday, June 24, 2011

The Scientist Pt. 2

Numbers and chemicals and working late trying to find the 
misplaced decimal point; the reason things went so wrong and
everything went so wrong, didn't it?
Erasing equations in the hope that it could somehow
turn back the last two months. [god, it's only been two months.]
Searching for some mistake in logic, in time, that could 
put his life back together.

XXXXXXX

"I hate this city", she grumbles and taps her fingers on the steering column
on the way home from the bar as night construction crews 
shout to each other over a jackhammer and traffic crawls
down 7th.
"We should move" 
and he nods but they never do.

XXXXXXX

There's a wedding ring sitting on the dresser and he
can't sleep.
He misses noise, all the sounds seem to have left and even the
soft sobbing from across the bed when she thought he was asleep
would be better than this.
"Why didn't you help me up that day?"
"I don't know."
"Why didn't you love me enough when I was here?"
"I don’t know.
XXXXXXX
"A genie comes along and you have one wish. Go."
"I'd want to own a diamond mine! And then we could buy some land out by the lake. 
No! Wait, three more wishes. I'd wish for three more wishes."
And he smiles even though she can't see him in the dark.
"What about you?"
"A time machine."
"That's so cliche, why would you want a time machine?" 
And he smiles again because there's
comfort in her predictability.
She's awake now and he expects to hear the groan of old
plumbing and then the shower. And then the door. And then the silence.
"So when we're old we could go back together, live it all once more, be young. I could fall in love with you all over again."
She kisses him on the forehead-
"Well, if anyone could build a time machine, Baby, it's you."

XXXXXXX
He steals her car from the impound and sets it on fire in the back parking lot of OfficeMax.
There's no reason to it at all and he runs before police cars start howling.
He thinks that she would have thought it was funny,
she would have wanted it that way.
There's an accident by the Chelsea Pier and his stomach drops
at the ambulances and pieces of plastic and glass sprinkled like confetti.
He subconsciously checks for blond hair on the stretcher
before driving past.
"I hate this city too" he says out loud to the empty passenger seat,
"I'm ready to move now, June.

XXXXXXX

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

you're the impressions no one else thinks are funny you're the
perfect heartbeat to hold all night.
there's dream catchers above your bed 
keeping your sleep clean and a white door that
locks everything else outside. you're the nervous feeling
of sneaking into a settled house at 3:42 AM-

i'm a stripped cog in the corporate machine, an artistic sellout.
you weigh me down to the world
when i think i'll just 
float away




and if my words could make you smile i'd write an anthology
of nonsense,

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

you watched everything you knew run away
like wild horses
and the questions of life sit hungry by the door.


grow up- grow tall like a tree
sit in your car and worry about 
a number, a girl, a job.
sit in your car and breathe thick air and worry about
what you are.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

what the fuck am i doing with my life?

Saturday, June 18, 2011

with every day
my movie script ending
gets farther and farther away

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


you pour vodka in the dirt and ask me if the world
can get drunk.
i am a terrible Shakespeare and all of my poems were
dull
but you make me wish for the words of novels
to place like daisies in your hair.


oh love, no blemish no scar
can measure in your beauty

Monday, June 13, 2011

find a good woman who 
will love you completely

find a good man who
doesn't care about being a man

find your love worn smooth by sand
and carry it in your pocket.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

mother spoke in riddles and 1+1 never
even seemed worth solving.

a note in a pew in an empty church-
you would not be saved.

Friday, June 10, 2011

long leaves and medicine eyes,
i wrap my legs through yours
and tangle like a vine;


with a warm body in the middle of the night
you look with your soul and not with your eyes

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

when you were young he took you to the circus and you asked
all wide-eyed
why the elephants didn't run, smash their way through the crowd back to dry deserts-
"because they don't want to leave anymore, sweetheart."


you watch the trashboats on the Long Island Sound and think of
flies biting your ears while she sleeps in the other room 
you think of great big elephant chains and
you don't want to leave anymore.


Tuesday, June 7, 2011

i'm sorry i haven't been updating,
i've been going through some medical and personal issues as well as working hard on 
the Hounds (a collection), 

in addition, i am starting to pursue maybe doing something with all this writing- maybe follow it somehow.


anyways, i'll be updating more frequently hopefully!
they could remove her like a tumor, 
i could wake up in hospital sheets with a clean slate-
never mourning for what never was.



and i'd still do it all again,
the falling, the sleeping, the kissing, the fucking, the love;
oh, the love.
the mistakes the fuck ups the months and months and months
all of it.
this misery has changed me for the better.
happiness should come with directions.

Monday, June 6, 2011

you stood under the sky and told me that you'd start
living right.
and i believed you, everytime

Sunday, June 5, 2011

he stole the police reports and drank to the 
memories
a flipped car and an extra key, he
didn't know what else to do.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

up up up
bones full of helium struggling against
the gravity of skin.
i want to taste the constellations 
i want to leave the whole world
behind.
i feel like;
a single note
an overflowing sink-
a well of disappointment.

you thought of love as a rash
written all over you

a blind eye won’t fix anything.

"i got nothing, babe"

you ask me where my stories come from, well
i've got them stacked
like vertebrae up my back

i cry to the computer screen over the loves i've never had-