JukeBox, Soap Box Derby Champ

i came tumbling down the hill, with a pocket full of plums
the fruits smashed, the juices mixed with the dirt
caked on my pants, on my arms and on my face
i was laughing the whole way through
i ran towards the house, the sun was just getting ready....

to go down

i was late, and i knew it
ma was in the front yard, starring off into the distance
ma had never been the same, since my brother Eli died
she laughed sometimes, but it was that sad laugh

the sound of a dying elk

i walked up to her and slid my head between her arm and side
she looked at me, with her fierce green eyes
"you're late.... pa's in the house"

she didn't even notice i was covered in plum juice dirt
she didn't notice i had both my elbows cut up
and she didn't notice my dirt drenched hair
she never noticed...

anything

just then pa came out, and ma walked into the house
slumped shoulders and all

"whats wrong with you boy? you're late,
and you look like a heffer had her way with you."

he crouched down and put his face close to mine
he smelled like Uncle Drake
the whiskey man
he also smelled like Aunt Mary
the cigarette queen

"now tell me where you were, or god help me
i'll whip you till the sun goes down"

kinda dramatic pa, you'd beat me, but whats with all
the analogies? can't you just laugh a little?
whats with all the pent up frustration and anger?
don't you get tired? sure as fuck makes me tired.

i'd never say that out loud, because even though its true,
he'd still beat me, and not let a word out.

"i was up on the hill, picking plums, and i was getting ready
to come down, but i saw the fields from up there, i saw our house,
and i tell ya pa, it was like a pretty picture. i starting thinking bout
the way you work so hard, and how i can admire that, how i want to work that hard,
and the way you keep us going even at the dark times, thats a man, i want to be a man pa, i want to put my foot down in the dirt and build something, a life, a dream,
a wife and a nice suit. will you teach me pa? will you teach me to be a good man?"

he stood there for a moment, head cocked to the side, one eye shut, like he was going to shoot a turkey, then he put his hand on my shoulder, and rubbed my hair around.

then he punched me straight in the mouth, and the blood rushed outta my gums, under my tongue and straight out into the air. he hit me again, this time in the eye, and i started tearing up, but i didn't make a sound because he likes that, he wanted me to cry and i wouldn't give him that.

i hit the floor, and the plum juice blood and dirt all came together around my mouth.
it was pain

"that'll teach you to patronize me you son of a bitch."

and then he left

and i just laughed

Under This Thing

you run too fast
not clearing hurtles
punishment is a mean for yourself
from where i'm standing
it's a beautiful thing out here
the mariachi cry, from outside
puts a smile on my face
the little things are appreciated
the way the leaves travel across the concrete
the way the ash flies off the cigarette
straight onto my pants
i can't help but laugh
i no longer get angry,
that all got buried
look where it got me
out of this rubble, this desolation
nothing shall rise, different than me
off the edge of this window
i desperately
slowly
breath

Sum Chi

do you know where the ducks go?
when the lake freezes over
and life is suspended
clinging from their shoelaces
hanging from wires
by their teeth
and with the passing of cars
i lose a bit of me
double or nothing
heres an imitation of a life
something for us to chew on
chew
the days pass, blend into drunk nights
flashes of smoke, car gauges, purple velvet
vomit
and sangria
nice pressed pants
tailored to fit my sagging ass
and still
i stood right there
with my hands running
nowhere but to my pockets
i stood right there
under the giving tree
still smiling

Paying for It

Transmission heads out west
over the ocean, over the wrist
taste the peach
smell your scent
it's the ultimate unrest
steady are the hands upon your thighs
don't mind the clammy sweat
i get nervous around people in general
it's hard to shake hands with god
when you don't know what you have a firm grip on
don't run around here kid
slippery when wet
bust your head and beat your chest
speak to the air and walls
sometimes it's all you got
stare into the dying sun
a bastard son
bury your possessions
and chill out for just
just
just a second.

It's Just a Misunderstanding

give me a minute to put it in a box
for you
and throw it into the wood chipper

Take the Fun Pack Back

smooth small hands
against concrete
the defect on you
is the same on me
despite our grievances
despite our sour patch kids
we are only what we appear to be
stuck in this unholy, gentrified land
hi
yes.
be like them
day after day and hour after hour
consume monologue
like it's an important part
the possession
it overtakes me
the false ambition
it overtakes
devours
me.

The Days blend Into Drunk Nights

The Days blend Into Drunk Nights

(title 1_)

i don't know if it was the the air,
or the way the sun came into her small pink room
but it was nice
this small dollhouse, out on a Hollywood vine
despite the fact that hollywood tap water sickened me
and when i awoke,
i felt as if all the blood had rushed to my head
it always took me a minute to regain my balance
i sat in her cat clawed, dog hair covered tattered chair
and drank my coffee
shirt off, shoes off, i didn't want to speak
it was nice
it was almost noon, we had just gotten up
she walked her dog
while i let a mean one go
often, she says small comments with conviction
makes me want to slam the table and scream, "FUCK YES!"
sometimes, her head tilts a certain way, and the light catches her eyes
i become speechless
sucked in and tranced by her vicious look
it strikes me each time
and i am bewildered
and question our existence
question our purpose
the small drafts of air that blow in through the windows while we sleep
as our legs tangle and dance all night
fighting for blanket
then we become sweaty and it feels like velcro pulling away from each other
her hair pressed lightly to her forehead and sweet smell
its enough to fill any mans head with smiles
and
the cat jumps on the bed
and i can feel it rubbing across my legs and arms
purring like it does,
its soft coat against my grainy, hairy legs
and always
i reach out to pet it
and the cat runs away
but i watch him out of the corner of my eye
sneaky cat
i see you
and when i don't look
he comes back and rubs across my feet
its nice
its always nice there