she asked me why i was leaving. i said i wanted to. she said that she wouldn't play that game with me, that "don't leave" game. i told her the only game i liked was hangman. she didn't laugh. i leaned against the door and put my hands in jean pockets. she sighed. the ice cream truck rolled by singing it's loud chorus of echoes, her dog began to howl. i examined the craftsmanship of her hardwood floor. everywhere there was nails to snag your sock on, or stub a toe. the dog stopped howling. she said it wasn't working out, this dating thing, she was thrown off by my quiet moods. she wanted me happy and vague. i said nothing. she went on and on, about how hard it was for her to constantly be positive and have a good time around jerks like me. i let her finished, and then asked her if she could give me my safety pin bracelet back. she took them off and threw them at me. i wanted to rebel, but i let her have it. i let her think she won. on the way out the door, she said that i wasn't a good lay anyway, and that maybe i should stick to greasing my palm. i laughed at her, i really let it all out. i laughed at her until she grew angry and slammed the door in my face. i stood there a moment and then knocked again. she threw open the door and i could see the fire burning in her eyes. hell have no wrath like a women scorn. what did i want she asked. i pulled the piece of paper off of the door and handed it to her.

you've been evicted baby. 

i laughed and walked down the hall out into the sunlight.

There's Gonna be a Goddamn Riot in Here

to have that much guts,

to have that kind of endurance and purity

to bait

everyone

into what you've been doing in solitude

will make it the most beautiful being

ever

your laughter will rumble in my brain

until the lights burn out

and the new bulbs

will have burnt out as well

until we're left reading by candle light

like two small rats

nibbling at each other.

to have that kind of humanity

and to have that kind of hate

for everyone

truly is a defiance

of rules and whoever made them.

you bastard.

you bastard.

to Cast the First Stone

i thought about all the things i didn't want. money, greed, a shiny new car, a set of steak knives, more clothes than i could wear in a week or a giant empty house filled with new uncomfortable furniture and an obnoxious amount of things i didn't need. it felt empty to want those things. i don't want to consume, to buy, to spend extravagant amounts of time and money making sure that my coffee table matched the drapes and paint decor. for me all those material things seemed like a desperate attempted at becoming human, while inside, it would still be a giant empty parking lot filled with bums smoking crack and porta potties with walls covered in feces.

i do not want to save the world. 

that's a foolish task.

i'll leave that to the naive.

i wanted to ask questions. to question authority, to question my existence, to question love, hate, anger, apathy and empathy. i watched the people shuffle in and out of the bar, the college students taking shots at the far end seemed like a relatively happy bunch, i moved closer so i could hear their conversation. the girls got up to hit the head. all short blond girls, with soft skin and good smells. jeans and sandals, lots of eyeliner, and high pitched voices. i shot them a smile as they walked by me, they giggled and pointed at my hat. i nodded and swiveled around back towards the bar. they were soft. soft skin, soft eyes, soft hair, soft personalities and soft smiles. soft through and through. i disliked women like that, they had no fire, no passion, they were bad lays and even worse to talk to. mannequins pretending to be human, acting like humans, smiling like humans. i wondered if they cried or felt anything at all. what were they looking for? 

the guys were no better. tall and slender, all wearing baseball caps and shirts representing their college. they were loud and obnoxious, obviously satisfied with life and everything in it. these were guys who were dealt a the good hand in life. they never had to fight for anything, other than each other to prove who was macho enough to drag the drunkest dame home. i felt sorry for them. but they didn't need my sorrow, they were beyond that. i finished my drink and ordered another.

i thanked myself for never becoming like them. satisfied. i was not satisfied, and i will never be. i am prone to self destruction at times, but it's with caution. i enjoy life way to much to end it so soon. whoever or whatever put me on this giant playground wasn't fucking around. i want to know who's in charge, and what's going on over there, over here, and over on the other side of the fence. i don't like cliques. high school was full of self important assholes who rolled in cliques and that only infuriated me even further. i hated people who sat there and accepted everything at face value. there's an underlying reasoning to all of this, and if you've got enough guff to even attempt at working at the problem, then you're half way there. it takes less courage to smile and be content than it does to speak up and voice your problems. i hid nothing from anyone. take it or leave it.

this was not a good way to live though. it's self righteous and arrogant. but something inside compelled me to be this way and i knew it wasn't an original thought, there had been many before me who felt the same, and they'll be many more. i started wishing someone would hit me over the head with a bottle so i could be dumbed down a bit, a little more gullible and naive. i wanted a lobotomy or to be sedated. the liquor helped at times, kept my brain from racing and dancing around inside of my skull. i became more accepting of life and everything in it, the people, the bullshit that was fed to us. i believed that people were honest and heartfelt, that nobody was out to play tricks and discourage me. i knew drinking could not be my crutch, so i left the bottle behind and started thinking of ways to deal with this increasing amount of malarkie that was handed to me. i could only take so much at a time, my tolerance was low. i drank less, but disappeared more. i'd wander out onto the street, or sit on the curb, stand on the balcony or just move my chair over to a place where no one would bother me. but with my luck, they always seemed to follow me wherever i went. occasionally i would meet a person who had an intelligence higher than the liquor proof of a bottle and i'd sit with them. those conversations were always great and made me feel warm inside. i would stop drinking and listen, talk when it was my turn, and the nights would get red hot. my hands would sweat, i would become excited at the smallest comments or hints. i did not feel thirsty during those times. it was like honing a chefs knife. blade against stone.

i was happy to be alone. there were people who i felt very strongly about, but those would pass to, and be replaced with other people. on and on like this, they would come into my bed and leave just as fast.on and on like this.  i always made it a point to let them know i still wanted them around, because that's the right thing to do. 

and that's what it all boiled down to. having a solid set of morals, principals, and opinions you lived by. i would not let them tow my car without a fight. i would not let the city collect money for my parking tickets. i would not pay my creditors and i sure as fuck wouldn't let the asshole get his way. it was an endless fight, but well worth it. becoming another cloudy eyed, dim witted, smiling empty headed person was not rewarding. becoming satisfied with life was like letting someone shit in your cheerios. i'm just wondering how the cheerios were made and who allowed this asshole to shit in them?

the sigh

pierced silence.

our breathing

wasn't anything

different

than those other people

in other houses

on other streets

doing the same

as us.

we are not special.

this is not special.

it's just another

tip

in 

the 

jar.
i shake my head
back and forth
starring at my feet
"goddamn you've been such a fool"
and you'd do it again
i know i would.
"goddamn you've been such a fool"
"goddamn you've been such a fool..."
on and on like this
until i close it off.
tie it up
and throw it far into the river.

as she was putting her clothes back on,

outside,

her chin was scratched,

she said to me,

"when you're ready,

i'll bring the noise"

what?

looking
at
this
on the shelf
and in the box
scanning on the tv
and playing over the speakers
in the books
and under the blankets
inside of the apartment
and hiking up the hill
in the sky with the gods
and underground with the gutter rats
in the bottle
and in my hands
all
in
my
hands

What a Difference a Day Makes

come over here,
and lay down with me
nuzzle together our heads
and share the air that
we both breath
in ourselves
with overflowing lust
we fog up the windows
and pass the wine
between our small fist
as we pound on the glass
coasting our ride
straight down the dividing
lines of
nothing like
this
that's happened in so long
how is we both waited to
pass
each other in the station
like two strangers
grasping at our coat tails
and peacock feathers
so stay with me
for just a little longer
as the early rays
shine through the blinds
your body burns
like a little furnace
and i feel it through the sheets
as we rub against
each other tonight
but tomorrow
you'll be gone
back to your books and classes
your school of rebellious
individual masses
who think they can
change
the world all at once
but i know better than that
i don't want to get my nose dirty
i want to stay clean
so i stand for morals
and some understanding
of these people who throw
garbage at me
you're strong for me
right now
but i've traveled this road with you
crazy eyes
and it's a cycle
give it a month
and you'll be right back
to where you started from
and for me it'll be
just
another day
lost.