Tuesday, November 21, 2017

The Dump

Right over here



This is the line,



and here,


but you were at 20/400 and I hated you a little bit for it,
a lot,

a whole lot

Monday, November 20, 2017

Southern Drop, 2029

I wasn't as tired as I thought I was,
and I deserved more credit than this,

they would find me,
one day,
no,
one night,

under the fringe trees,
at the end of a street they envied,
and that I took for granted,

and much too long,
and much too late,
I would learn the virtues of company

Sunday, November 19, 2017

The End of the Night

I could be her,
right?

I mean,
I think I could be,

I had the demeanor,
some of the intellect,
some,
not all,

and the drive,
maybe not the same irreverence,
but that was only circumstantial,

and we were all irrelevant at one time or another,
likely today more than ever

Other Wise

Nobody,
nobody has the answer,
and wherever it may be,
it's not here,
it's tomorrow,
or somewhere uncharted,
but I hated saying it was manifest,
or that the answers were destiny,
because that was a bit much,
even for you---

Saturday, November 18, 2017

Night Side

Take me swimming,
underneath the moonlight,
in between trees I never knew existed,
next to the dirt,
and the rusty boats,
and the mountains I would never climb,
we would never climb,

but take me there,
and make me yours,
and give me all the attention you can muster,
and wring me out to dry

Friday, November 17, 2017

Extended Release

I deserve what you took from me,
and even you knew that,

I knew you did,
and so do you,

we both knew it then,
and we both said nothing

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

Til Morning

Cough it up,
all of it,
even what we said didn't exist,
because we knew it did,

and that it would go to that graveyard of thought,
of compassion,
like everything else,

like all of it,
every last second

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Clocked

What if I wanted more?

Would you put me in the waiting room?

Would there be someone with oil paints?

Would we go back three decades to when rainy Thursdays felt like the start of my life and not the end of it?

Would we be good for each other?

Who’s to say?

Not you,
Not me,
Not Him or Her or Them,

Maybe it,


Maybe so—

Sticky Past

I hated talking in this tense,
it was beneath me,
or worse yet,
and behind me.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Sigh, Night

I should've spun this a little differently,
I should've told you that you were worse than I said you were,
that you disappointed me,
that you left me feeling sad most of the time,
that nothing would've lived up to the beginning,

I should've said a lot of those things,
but I didn't,

and not because I was shy,
or afraid,
or a coward,
or because I believed that courage was circumstantial,
and that it belonged to a lucky few,

but because I was tired,
probably more of my own tolerance,
than your penchant for taking advantage of it

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Than Then

I liked you less and less,




and less

than,



less,

than before tomorrow,


Friday, November 10, 2017

Green Light and All

Tomorrow was the thing,
and it was spinning,
and spinning,

there were plants in space,
inside the diorama,
and somehow that indicated yesterday and today,

and the clocks looked different,
like they were pulling us into the future