the best years of your life
wasting what is
supposed to be
the best years
of your life
all the factory
gave you was
a broken back
the love of your
life took half of
everything and
went to live on
the other side
of the world
take a look at
the shotgun
in the corner
the only friend
you have left
IN CARNIVAL
The city went everywhere I did.
It was not about to end on my account.
There were mountains sure
but far in the distance
and painted I expect.
It’s enough to make a man
throw up his flag in horror,
while swearing fidelity to another race.
No, make that sweating fidelity.
I saw the new century arrive
while marking pages in a book,
amused, amazed., by my own handwriting.
Fireworks, raucous sulfur,
a float reached six thousand feet –
mambo, samba,
nothing was invisible
but everything needed fire
to not be dark —
a man danced right by me
in his dead father’s only suit
down the streets of the village
and a woman in a tutti-frutti hat
reddened my brow with lipstick.
Something deeper was required
but everybody was too consumed by carnival
to leave the surface.
I was peppered with flame and homesickness.
Not knowing the local dialect,
no one had ears for me.
Even at a parade’s sincerest moments,
the truths could not take over.
Just sensual and loud,
the easy road to destination.
A Big, Fat Hit
I haven’t had a drug habit
For nearly 20 years, and for
All of that time it’s never really
Bothered me. But, just lately
In the last couple of weeks
I’ve been having cravings,
Psychological cravings. O.K.
So, I’m tense, I’m stressed. My
Shoulders are full of knots. If
I wake at six in the morning,
That’s it, I’m awake. As soon as
I’m conscious, that’s it, I’m
Stressed. So many things in My life are going wrong at the
Same time. So, yes sometimes
I crave a big, fat hit of smack.
To make me not feel, to make
Me not fear.
Of course, I’d never want to get
A habit back.
Just something to numb me,
So I don’t crack.
Fairhope Pier
it was a humid end of December day
gray and dreary tones abound
clouds thick with sunshine peeking through
parting the floating cotton
shrubs and trees
greener than green
absorbing life they’d been without
no breeze to disturb the water
which lay flat and motionless
so still
every color of rose
available to the eye
their fragrance in the air
the long pier seemed to disappear into the fog
boats lined up like soldiers
awaiting their next deployment
latino men on the bench
speaking spanish I assume
young couples fishing
old couples walking
I was walking
then at the end
which seemed
the middle of the bay
fish jumping
birds flying
me in awe
seagulls prancing in front of me
on the old weathered cracked wood
pelicans seemingly diving to their death
only to retrieve a morsel of heart pumping goodness
my girl recalls a story about pelican deaths
they go blind and die
the constant smashing onto
the top of the water
causes them to go blind
and starve to death
I replied
save the pelicans
invest in tiny goggles
Birthday 2005
I went to a parade downtown
saw floats, saw tits, saw drunks
drove to my folk’s rental in spanish fort
my mom, taking tequila shots
my dad, working shift work at the mill
a great meal offered and ingested
a great day
I thought
“is it hot in here?” my mother asked
“not to me,” I replied
as I searched for drum and bass ringtones
for my new phone just purchased for me
“I’m having trouble breathing,” she said
time is of the essence I thought
I called 911
I put a leash on the dog
as my mother went to the back
to get dressed for the ambulance
she returned with fear in her eyes, asking
“when will they be here?”
at that time
I assume
realizing she had no heart beat
I was unaware of this at that point
looking back
I should have called again
but I was in complete denial and comforting her
I watched my mother die a fast death
to her
I’m sure it was slow
suffocating, turning purple, and scared
no breath to be had
despite trying
I said, “I love you.”
somehow between gasps of air
she was able to get out
“I love you too
tell your dad”
I said, “I know, save your breath.”
no heartbeat
no breath
no hope
no help
flailing and convulsing upon the floor
not a goddamn thing I could do
but stare in shock
where the fuck are the paramedics I thought
finally they arrived and began working on her
at the hospital questions were answered
blood pressure skyrocketed
heart stopped
and lungs slowly filled with fluid
my mother had drowned from within
the lungs drained
the heart revived
but consciousness had not returned
her brain had been without oxygen for about an hour
left in a vegetative state
we waited two weeks for a miracle
or at least
any sign of improvement
or life
kept alive by machines
that’s no life
that’s not life
the machines were switched off
and I watched my mother die
for the second time
the shining blast spirit seems dark
if restricted feelings each play with the universe it can color low a clear array of humming to
the slow clash of souls
a light ethos among condensed pastoral
light palettes
a very amplified fold of sinister space driving feelings
a fear viel of unavoidable light
inducing extreme humming geometry moment by moment
in cartoonish and sudden transformations
of one dimensional misfortunes and lost personal flashes
thousands of clouds broader among the colors
the crisis flame projectiles from house radio whisperings burst into extreme facades of street smoke
signal spatters vast and unreal
Colors lighted in my eyes
stream flow twirling and ricochet.
I blast tracked in a monkey trap seeing in mind
a number of good things such as
a beautiful woman with an unpracticed smile,
tellin’ the boss “I quit”,
and a child’s conception.
Shift back forth
sought meaning underneath worm bellies,
rose to heavenly height,
then shattered by an alien existence
childlike in the best and worst
crushed and berated
laughter and kindness.
Ain’t it strange way we build our worlds?
Constructed unknowingly dangerously feeling our little tendrils into spaces
Filling ‘em with our dreams and cruelties
weeping guts and smiling
heart pounding thinking this is it
why
why
why
swallowed into a mucky shadow.
Wishes not realities, though we build ‘em such ways and forget.
Then we hurt
less we get lucky and meet soul tuner who twiddles like me.
Collaboration on highest ground until flecks appear dusty
and foundation cracks
refusal to yield
can’t meld
evolve
save ourselves.
Whole thing’s towered up
then struck with different tongues
suddenly like “What the heck happened? I used to love you.”
It’s second law of thermodynamics,
universe hates energy input,
nature’s silly complexities,
just wants some tasty flat.
Then why, you know?
Who knows?
howl if you must.
take me now
while we’re dancing,
you choose the music
while i play something
sexy and evil.
within this skin
lie the secrets of the visceral,
i drag them out
and lay them at your table.
take me here,
where the mercies
that you seek must be fought for,
muscles must melt and
beasts must bay at the moon
before this is finished.
it is an irresponsible moon
that watches over
our dark acts.
take me to the brink as
the whole darkness
consumes us,
sink your talons deep
into my breast, for my
sweet meats lie within.
show no sorrow,
plunge deep to scoff
upon my entrails
before the palsy happens.
take me to the point where
i am tipping
wicked is the sin
that trips us
as st. vitus dances
up my spine and our loins
explode with truth serum,
howl if you must.
bill.
it’s five minutes to midnight
and i’m taking a clown’s advice,
it’s laced with ennui and cynicism
and dick jokes that
we can both laugh at.
i buy him a meal because
i can see that he has been crying,
and over his black coffee steam
he tells me to abandon the tightrope
and hitch myself to a carny
cos the best any of us
can expect is mud.
outside the world remains
ringleader distant, and it’s late but there
is still news to deliver.
i promise to plant mushrooms
on his grave so he can carry on
entertaining the living.
