Walking from one end of the
Apartment to the other
A powerful power ballad
Empowering my surly saunter
That only I can see
Witness
I have the Boss on in the background
But baby I want to be no where
But here
A track ends
A day will begin
Soon a chorus will come through
That first crescendo
Then bliss

The heavy mauve sheet
Should have been softer,
If only it wasn’t so cold.
The flesh and comforter
Above me feel just the same.
The ground is, so they said,
So much colder six feet down.
But the inner sense of omnipresence,
The myriad of eyes longing goodbye
Burn me to a sweat
Pierce me to bead.
To bleed was
To keep the fresh wound clean.
Now that I’ve bled off
Blind Innocence
I’m free to die
A thousand more deaths.

oh those little darlings, there are so many

I awoke in the morning
With a near-numbing vision:
Laid out face up
On a lake slightly frozen
Wrists and ankles sliced open
Forming an angel of blood
That truly I hoped would melt
Me through the ice
And take me away

Found face down with a face full of mud
And a little bit of blood. The steam’ll rise slowly
As the sun reveals the scene in a guiltless manner
That abhors the innocence.
The westerly winds will pick up very soon
Carrying the odor from the woods
Prompting a search into the thick of it.
The sun shall begin to bake the skin
No moisture left
Absolutely defenseless
Her guard always tended to be down
But she liked it that way
Didn’t you?

There was this time, I knew myself
This low persona was much craftier.
I never slurred my words
Quick with a witty quip
Humorously, almost honorably on queue.
But the experience
Or maybe age
Has stained the color
Commentary with delay.
Those in the same boat
Enjoy the show
Them,
On the outside looking in
Write us off as boisterous
Reveling; but the fun is within.
Crowded it can be
Come last call camaraderie,
But we all leave alone
Stealth caricatures of ourselves.

Days, weeks, months, minutes
Time spent at a blatant idle.
No gall to press the right pedal to go
In a direction leading anywhere but here,
No drive to press the wrong pedal
Promoting at the very least a change.
So many have sat on this tireless path
Endlessly interchanging lanes,
But always finishing last.

Tongues that writhe like livid serpents
Bred out of decisions both martyrs made.
They’ll each die two deaths: one of lust, one of faith
Full of insipid humanity, blatant frailty.
Pounding each other harder
Hiding behind assertions of freedom
Beating this ageless mare
Mark of post-modern society.
Desensitized to sensing their own soul
That waits just behind confidence
Never exuded thus never exposed.
They’ll expire as monarchs
Of themselves and no others.
Regrets none or no one listens,
Apologies all but no one hears.
Forgiveness is a virtue that died with the romantics.

From a high-rise window
My vision plummets down
Zeroes in on an angel
Working a degenerate corner.
At ten, she radiated innocence
At twelve she traded wings for razorbacks,
And ascended to the corner like an oracle’s cliff
That pulls vulnerable volunteers to its edge
Only to spoil their hope with lies to fly
Then ravage their personage
An untoward descent to destitution.
Her halo disgustingly bartered
For nothing more than another quick breath;
Constantly trading her majesty for tender
That is anything but,
Society brooding it onward
Pennies for earthly delights, seconds at a time.
I can see this all from a glimpse
Down my high-rise walls;
Dismiss as despicable
And close my shades to the world.
But I’ve got money in my pocket
And apathy on my mind.From a high-rise window
My vision plummets down
Zeroes in on an angel
Working a degenerate corner.
At ten, she radiated innocence
At twelve she traded wings for razorbacks,
And ascended to the corner like an oracle’s cliff
That pulls vulnerable volunteers to its edge
Only to spoil their hope with lies to fly
Then ravage their personage
An untoward descent to destitution.
Her halo disgustingly bartered
For nothing more than another quick breath;
Constantly trading her majesty for tender
That is anything but,
Society brooding it onward
Pennies for earthly delights, seconds at a time.
I can see this all from a glimpse
Down my high-rise walls;
Dismiss as despicable
And close my shades to the world.
But I’ve got money in my pocket
And apathy on my mind.

Writhing madly on the floor
Flailing bruised, almost broken fists at the walls
Kneading the bricks with stubs,
Frail nails split deep past the cuticle.
The effort falls futile
Can’t even scratch my eyes out
So I can’t see my pain.
Can’t rip the chemical chains
From these petrified veins.
I’d use them to string myself from the gallows
If only they’d hold.
Collapse to the ground, traverse like a worm,
This bout’ll kill me if it kills me
If I don’t die first.
Maniacal jaws-of-life reverse in my stomach
A revolting twist of an intestine
Bends me like will, weak human will.
The guttural squeezing subsides
With a wimp’s wheezing sigh,
Clear bitter tears harden on my lids
Sisyphus welded them open,
No rest for the wicked
No weeping for the wasteful.

Fall is fading
Winter’s drawing near.
Everyone notices that nip in the air
But it strikes something different
To each and every one.
To some a new fashion season,
Try to rid that chill with a radiant yellow scarf.
To others a time to lock out the world
Complete that masterpiece frozen at the prologue.
And to countless others a reminder
Of what was just warm simply was.
You’re never as cold as the moment you realize
There is no one there to warm you.