A Day In The Life Of The Rest Of My Life

Here it lies

a portrait of the artist

with endless cups of some variety of vodka watermelon drink

in a basement apartment with ants crawling up and down

the walls

even so bold as to be found in his pajamas

no one cares, and no one needs to

looking young for his age

but showing his hand behind the eyes

yellowed and deadened

cynical from the mouth always

older than ever

these last ten years

always craving all of the time

nothing else to do

but paint words pretty

nothing else to do but smoke cigarettes and look

out at the stoic sky for answers to questions

he's too afraid or too dumb to ask

like it always is here, it comes to this:

a woman.

but this one is exceptional

and he is in deep

and exposed

wide open, probably too soon with the notions of "love" and "truth"

as he sees them

so

another expensive cigarette later

one more half tethered together moment

of clarity

one TINY bit more of drink and it will

all come together for him

like he hopes that it will

every night 

close enough to the
sun as not to burn surely but

with the knowledge that this time will be final and figured out

and things will go as things should 

like they always should have gone,
well
full of potential
and promise forever

Stumbling, struggling down the 5 red steps

downward into his home

underground
cut off again

he drags his feet to the refrigerator 

pours one more

the ice cubes swirl around in the glass

staring up at him as he does the blue black evening every night

just as unfeeling

and it keeps repeating

Fallin

It's hard to say where it begins and ends
or even if it ever started
It's too true that it doesn't seem real
and it might
not be but I can't forget
your kisses on my neck and
that flash in your eyes when the glee connects

I've haven't been this scared
for a while now
The way that you shine

I don't have to lose myself
with you when
it's just so natural to

it's difficult to negotiate this heart
and you weren't supposed to see this
I can't tell anymore what is
the line

I'm constantly drawn in. It seems so unfair
I never asked for this
but it's all I need now
is to see it
what you've shown me before

I want to have it again, 
when the glee connects
your eyes with mine
when you have me I want to see it again

The Thorne Rooms At The Art Institute Of Chicago

"The Thorne Rooms At The Art Institute Of Chicago"

I don't quite know about you 

or much about anything at all

but I need to think that my work worn hands in your

amber strands mean something

steady next to me 

striding the sidewalks of this city

my left arm draped around your shoulder so casual

like i'm not scared of anything

heavy as lead, ginger as feathers

sideways smiles

maybe it matters

it comes

cold to start

i tried to hide from you until i could not

elevated aloft carried upward 

warmer now, sharply defined

brighter than ever

loud as life

the summer is here, 

we joke but we are arrived

together we shine so obvious

as blinding as our together days are like always

two figures, lollipop miniatures

i can't disguise what's here 

that which you could see clear 

right through anyway

-dedicated to an exceptional woman

Secret Final Boss

This was the very definition of PRIVATE.
This is only for me.
But you violated even that.
I want to feel sympathetic for you, but this time is not so easy.

Move Along

Patching it up, "Goodnight"

I kissed her -  needing that time away

and deep down, here it is (the real me)

so feeble

I was caught at once - vulnerable

reaching out to long ago, where the grass grew up to my thigh

dirt roads

things like that

It came to me, all of it.

My grandfather, how regal he wore his Stetsons  

My grinning dog Bandit, capturing the shoes of our new neighbors 

My Yaya, stubbornly navigating floorboards with a paint-bucket walker

My naievete, how I took this all in stride

like it could never be gone forever

Nature Boy Requiem

down in the breaks again

country boy in a cold alley,

right out of the movies

displaced

with a kiss on the lips

and a memory in the head

tonight i will stumble over the hardwood floor again

toasts all around

unorthodox, shooting it to death

til it's dead

a bloody mess on the ground

forgotten and over with

finally

from where I am

listening to the music that we liked

with the school on the other side

and the kids

would come home

with our friends on the outside

in some other place somewhere else

but I was good here.

in the shade, licked up

where I had it made.

I would bring toxic drinks down to the pool

and no one knew.

How big this world is, now that it's no longer quite all mine

I have this kind of thing about me

that doesn't feel quite at home without deck-chairs

and the sun in my ears

again -

nodding off

feeling very far from where I am now