Saturday, December 28, 2013

I wont play your song until you get here





Where the good life starts
 with a smile and beer and they way we used to feel. do you remember all those used to feels?  she slides into her slip- on shoes purchased on her last trip to Mexico. She starts to think of all the boys who used to whistle and honk their horns when she walked down the side walk.
While the good life starts without me Ive waited for the bus to school and I waited for the lights to change and Ive waited for you.
Oh i have waited and waited and i have passed the time singing in my car, praying to the gods, i have passed my time jerking off and playing games.
the good life starts when you want it to and no sooner or later
it starts when you hold her hand or let her go. when you start over or go back. The good life isn't memories what you did yesterday. its today right now, its every day.  come live the good life. come and slip down into your shoes and  walk and walk and shine and walk some more.
I want you to tell me when your good life starts. I want to be there when you finally remember those used to feels. and you smile and you offer me a beer and we drink and we wait- for the good life.  

Sunday, December 15, 2013

withdrawl symptoms include :

I kept trying to sort out the hows and whys of everything but some bottomless green eyes kept getting in the way. Fine day, Fine music, Fine beer and it had been a long long time since green eyes. So I wrapped up the whole problem and shoved it into a cubicle over in a side corner of my mind and slapped the door shut. A man should have his weekends, no matter what he does.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

Its over, I tried

Got it bad for a girl who lives where the cold wind blows.  sometimes she writes to tell me how she dreams of my summer skin warm with the glow. how she misses me and if I do too? … my girl  she is good at archery, with arrows poisoned tipped and with the long con. I always fall.
In her dreams there are no nets and in mine there are no goodbyes. There is the start of something, many words, long pauses. We meet and as soon try to forget. Our fuck is a drug. She is my love and my enemy. We have everything. Then nothing.


This is how we forget:

We finish what we do and say our goodbyes. It’s part of the deal to bury our secrets like the dead.
I lose another piece of myself. The time it took to swim to you, to kiss, to fuck, to heal.
My head feels hot . I have a fever. I walk around trying to shake off the heart attack. Im long down the highway before my pulse is back to normal. The feeling lasts for days. The mind doesn’t want to forget. The body never forgets. I’ll remember how good you felt years later. The words and the silences.



you are a part of my cabin in the heart




Ive said it before between the lines here and there. I look at hers. she looks at mine. She knows. Im reckless and obvious but nothing is ever certain, Is it?
I want to talk and hang out and go on road trips together. I want to hide out and fuck and create. these stupid chemicals make me want to marry her and watch her and use her and make her art. I want to put it into words but as you can see I fail at it. Im old enough to know better. It’s a mess. A blank page has suddenly become a massacre. nothing is certain.

 After life:
She goes on without me to wait for the school bus. Second day in a row she’s ignoring me. It’s weird how one day someone seems so into you and the next acts as if she doesn’t know you at all. We fucked lets get that out in the open. We did and many times after school while her Mom was at work. Her Dad split years ago, the things she let me do to her must have been pay back. All the girls ive ever been with don’t seem to have Dad’s around. Its just something I run into not something I look for. Shes over there now talking to some guy, they smoke cigarettes, laugh, she touches his arm. I shrug my shoulders. Its not the end of the world - it just feels like it.

to these i do not want to forget




Hated the nights for the lies we told. How she comes along with her slooooooooow game makes me feel like Im her rising tide then takes everything away. Silence and grace. Smiles and teeth. Im left here to write this shit about you.



 Ive said it before between the lines here and there. I look at hers. she looks at mine. She knows. Im reckless and obvious but nothing is ever certain, Is it?
I want to talk and hang out and go on road trips together. I want to hide out and fuck and create. these stupid chemicals make me want to marry her and watch her and use her and make her art. I want to put it into words but as you can see I fail at it. Im old enough to know better. It’s a mess. A blank page has suddenly become a massacre. nothing is certain.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Lucky You


Warm engine hum. I'm burning up the  miles to be in her bed.  I will numb myself with her body. Inside the four walls of some motel room. Wherever you tell me to be. Distant galaxies. Numb myself with the words in my head I will never speak. Momentary closure, photographic false memories. Always better a day later, a week later, 6 years later. You can't have what you want. Take what we can get.  Heartbeats. Warm engines. Warm skin. A hard kiss on the mouth while i'm inside you. Stay numb.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The looking glass

A jet engine roars and throttles down to achieve altitude needed for descent (I’m just guessing here because unless you count reading Enders Game ive never been to flight school) Every 8 minutes the planes land and take-off. Coming, going, coming and going. My office being in the flight path shakes and rattles with the whooooosh as the plane rushes past my window then disappears from view. I listen for the explosion like in my dreams but when there is nothing I assume for now the 100 or so souls on board are safe. I can only hope this happens every time, every day , every 8 minutes for however long im here in this cubicle. My most vivid nightmares consist of tornadoes, submarines, the night she left me, and planes falling from the sky. Common dreams. These planes make me think of the show LOST . Makes me wonder if im not already dead and me being here so close to the airport is a sign that I can’t seem to grasp. I am living in the “flash sideways” life right now. Here but there here but not. The repetition and signs and it would be so easy for me to go online book a plane ticket drive 5 minutes and be in the air on my way somewhere else. If i could get back there somehow, back to you. Maybe we are ghosts. Maybe we were meant to be together?

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Say Hi



What was that song you always played?  I can’t remember only that it sounded so good I was even slightly aware of the groove while deep inside you
  Blah,Blah,Blah?… something like that.  Whenever I hear it now I think of you and our little deaths. and you probably remember how I used to make you sore.  On top of you. lost in it,  forcing you through the mattress fabric and springs to the floor  buried in the earth so no one could find us.  
 

Saturday, June 1, 2013

As Close To Me As You Are Now


Afternoon rain storms. We kissed on your bed and  I told you that you tasted like lightning. The heat from us burned all summer. She changes the weather.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Unchained

My mom drove fast darting in and out of traffic. Accelerate, down-shift-accelerate. I was late for school again. I had trouble getting up for school. I stayed up late reading books and comics all night. I played with Star Wars figures, listened to records with my giant head-phones. Every time i tried closing my eyes i wondered about dying and death and how it would hapen and what would happen after i died. I was one those kids who thought about everything to much. I dreamed about girls even at a young age. I wanted to own a dog. I wanted to learn Kung-Fu. I wanted escapes, adventures and to live in Oz or Disney World, maybe in the haunted mansion or 20 thousand leagues under the sea.

Quick lane-changes. The book-bag near my foot slides across the floor-board spilling out an S.E. Hinton novel, # 2 pencils and a Trapper Keeper. The windows were down and the radio turned up loud enough to hear over engine roar and wind. The station on was 103.5 WSHE "She's only Rock-in-Roll" - A scratchy voiced DJ introducing a scratchy-voiced band - ACDC- chik-chik-chik-chik-chik-chik-and the power chords of Back in Black kicks in. It sounds like the devil. Like temptation and I want more. I always want more. When i get to school I need to tell Kelly about this song. But i don't remember if i ever did. I can only remember the scratchy voice screaming about black, the wind punching my face and no red lights.

 

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Three word replies

And then out of the blue she sends an email. It opens me like a swift blade. It has been such a long time. It reads as if she misses me but then the words aren't totally directed toward me they could apply to anyone. Like this is some sort of mass email sent to all her ex-lovers. fishing for the fish that bites. I am the shark that bites. Blood in the water. I write the long heart-felt reply." I miss you too. I miss you too" i say. I leave questions for reply. Oh please oh please. I swim inside the lies and wait.

 

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Warm sticky wet

When you held to close the words i say , but isn't that what we do. I thought youd always be around but you never stayed. Isn't that what we say. Im hungry, im tired. I'm restless. Im gonna go watch Sasha Grey.

Another time my cock is so deep. I tell her i love her. Mistake. I cum. Mistake. She scratched me. She left scratches. I left a bruise that her boyfriend noticed. We open the windows so the lies might fly out.

Blood is the only truth. Sometimes Its so hard to keep inside of me. I know it belongs there. Full of sin, full of promises, full of her poison. The potential in every drop. Blood doesnt lie. Its for the living. It runs deep. We spill it for the most heroic and the most stupid of reasons.

 

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

13

Its here and all that happen was i got up and went to work. I tore the last month off the calendar hanging by my desk. 2013. Thirteen. Good, i like that number. I like where this is going.

At lunch i went to my truck, opened the hatch back and pulled down the tailgate. I hopped in, ate my lunch, read my book. I have an army blanket and pillows back there. A small cooler. Because im always road trip ready. Im parked backed in, up to a tree. A squirrel comes looking for something to eat. I share my pretzels. We stare at each other with not to much to say. "Happy new year. Im hungry." I wonder if he'll drop in tomorrow?

Im curious to know what your zombie contingency plans are?

This year im going to try and write everyday. turning the month on the calendar. Reading a book, having lunch with a squirrel. Zombies. So far its starting out well.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

spell that made a word


13 13 13 13 13 13 13
                      Time to begin.