Science Center

and well....
here we are
"now isn't the time for that"
indeed
it's never the time, or a quarter to it
inward seething
my stomach burned all the way up to my gum's
my palms were sweaty
i'm not a good hand holder
and i'm nervous always
one favor please
come closer
closer
closer still
now.
the brain
i marveled at the model of the brain
all these things that go on
in this 3lbs of soft pink flesh
the total abuse i give it
and still
it responds
that's all we need sometimes
a response
a honest to god response

I Bought You Flowers Today

from the receipt:

polluted, everyone, everything, polluted
this city is a giant dumpster
and you all know it
everyone deceased
even in this madness, even i,
even the dogs and children are mad
one can only hope
one can only believe in something
with the twinkling eyes
we've all been tricked
oh yes
the disease eats its way through the walkways,
like termites
everything crumbles
evaporates
distance
there will be others
and that i am sure of
you will come in pairs
or three at a time
you will hide away
like a blanket placed over my birdcage

Santa Clause was Grandfathered In

it's closing in
the time to litter the sidewalk with christmas trees
time to come out of sickness with our own voice
to develop our own small indents that make us whole
the small variables and actions
the way you hold your cup against your chin
or the style in which you slouch
slouching towards the left
or right
depending on which side you're standing

There is No Incision Deeper Than the One Made By You All

always fighting the tide,
there is no salvation
no god, no women or man, nothing
nothing will come down from the heavens
and nothing will stroll into the room
and take all the pity and remorse away
there is only you
"sometimes i wish i could start over"
yeah well,
you can't
"this isn't the way it was suppose to be done"
yeah well,
we're in it, either we change it, or lay down with it
you take these things to bed
even your loudest moan will never drown out
the sound of wind blowing through your empty soul
no matter how hard you dug your nails into my spine
will the blood run warm from your lips
pale blue lips
pale blue eyes
it's necrophilia
yes.
we as men have all fucked a corpse
on occasion
more than once
frequently
i did it for 6 years
not literally of course
cause that's just sick
but....
but you have false power
hiding between you
i made my choice
but i'm not absolute in my purity
my dick calls, "You should of done it!"
while my mind knows whats right
so now i argue with my dick
i argue with my brain
and i argue out loud
to whoever will bear it.

Play it Hard and Close to the Vest

you've discovered the vice young man,
at a young age and with frail young heart
with up and down constant beatings
and your stupid stiff upper lip
tight against your wool coat and leather gloves
you've been away haven't you?
we know where you've gone, when you saw it
this is almost as gorgeous as she was
almost.
we take these things that happen to us,
and put them in our pockets
we use them as book marks
and never pass them on to new books
it's temporary
even though you say nay
it is
your minds made up.
admit it

Of my Heart

the chill in my bones,
i shake em' off,
stepping out, into pale sunlight
heat hidden in the hands of the imperial feat,
the orchestra playing in my chest
and the flowers singing
the heavy cruiser sandwiched down the street
and the steel doors shutting heavily
right behind me
at night, the phone poles across the street
strangely resemble crosses
i'm still waiting for the fired colored leafs
to fall to the ground
we never gave up hope
Cody:
i think you're sick, we haven't been around,
you've been put on everything put on hold,
you've stumbled right your way right through this thing
we all called making a living.

it actually is christmas

so it actually is christmas
the saying goes
"everyday can't be christmas"
but with all that weight and burden,
will it actually be what we thrive for?