mumble

this is it
    this is it

this is when
I'm supposed to read scripture
         and point fingers at your head

it was you
                 you wasn't it
yes
fingerblasting the holes of heaven
  distributing small pockets of insurgents
at every corner mart

wasn't it you smoking
  rocks and snorting rocks
and telling me the world is ablaze
  ablaze with the heat of false prophets
false idols
                    false hope

this is it
  this is it

this is going to be
  when you start pointing fingers
at scripture this is going to be
  that time

you weren't full of shit
                                      no
  you were full of methbombs
pockets filled with hash
  and your death it
was like a chain of gold -
                          - a thin glimmer of light
in this tunnel we call opportunity

and
dreaming up fantasies
                         of some life

   touched me
     fucked me
          shot me
lay beside me

                           yes

plumes of bombs scatter against
  the grains of sand
and land on your filthy
                              naked body

come
  come
come
  come here

you
      me

naked
          bodies

flesh to flesh
  mouth to mouth
hand to hand
  your legs on mine
my legs on yours
  don't stop                               no
come
  come
please
  come here

this is it
  this is it

this is when
  you quote scripture and tell me
no
                       babylon the great
mistress of harlots
  abominations of earth
it's all you've sought after in life

wife of bath
  mistress overdone
lady meed

how many more
  until you find peace

is this it
  is this it
come
  come back to me

self eulogy

if I die

a most undeserving death

do not burn me do not bury me

do not give me a funeral

throw me into a body of water

let me go back to where I had lived

let me be eaten by what we eat later

invite my mother

invite my father

invite my brother

but do not invite anyone else

burn all of my clothes

drink all of my alcohol

draw on my body with sharpies

and play a day in the life

            please

do not invite or inform

            anyone that

I had loved outside my family

to tell them is to

            ruin my social

life I just want all to wonder

'where has this gentleman gone?'

maybe I'll come back a specter

            and haunt my old haunts

like my typewriter or porn websites

or I'll play ukulele in the attic

bring a rabbi, a priest, and a philosopher

            read the scripture in latin and english

preach marxism and eat the flesh of Christ

place me under a chuppah and let met be

                        judged by a jury of sinners

let it be known that

            I was a yeoman

sired 11 sons and daughters

and that I died of grief

let my tombstone read

'this man was a subpar human being'

and toss it into the sea

make sure the coast guard presides

                        over this event

but that's if I die

if I die

a most undeserving death

les nantais

december in buffalo hurts

not like december in manhattan

it pierces your heart

            your poor unsuspecting heart

it stabs it repeatedly

mercilessly

it goes on forever it seems

                        but it IS...

            I wish it were you

                                    I wish it were you

burning in this wintry desert

                        hurting moaning fucking cold

remember when you told me

            forever forever forever

            I will see you like the dawn

then winter set in and you never gave me

                        the chance to thaw

it hurts, december in buffalo

                                    not like december in westchester

because

            you're already gone

gone with my poor unsuspecting heart

and I saw my blood

            and I thought of you

half truths and lies

HANDCUFFED

            on this

IRON ROD

            extending

towards

            the HEAVENS

I sigh in relief

  knowing there is NO PLACE

            I CAN GO.

aren't you AFRAID

  that people will take you to

WRONG places or

            UNFORTUNATE accidents will happen

as you walk across a street?

WELL NOT ME.

  I'll be here chained

  and live out the rest of my days -

                                                            and

I'll be sure that

  MY DEATH

won't be AN ACCIDENT.

perpetual conception

as the sun lit up the crimson room

  my eye opened with terrifying alarm

  but all I could see was my

  capillaries and the presence of light.

fumbling about the room

  I made it to what I thought was the center

  and cried and thought about

  how I can begin to open my eyes

and I felt someone push a scissor into

      my hands.

I didn't understand -

  I didn't want to understand -

but reality is shocking

    and I had no choice

I felt the cold blades of the scissor

  even before they touched my face

and

as the sun lit up the crimson room

  my eye opened with terrifying alarm

  but all I could see was

  the presence of light.

DCLXVI

                                    when we embrace the sardonic

cacophony of blue light symphonies,

  the environment of the world falls

  flat to their roots and pays

                                                tribute.

only God himself can conduct the

  mezzanine filled with brass

  and woodwinds

  and an angelic choir -

                        you would think humans

would be in awe

                                    but really

                                    deep           

                                    down inside

we are filled with a burning anguish

  of lust and hate and rage and

  jealousy that all we can hear

  is the Devil laughing in our

  ears.

but if we find a tune -

                                                a worldly tune

  a down-to-earth-no-bullshit-here kind of tune

            a tune that'll make you cry, make you move, make you smile

  send shivers down your spine, and

                                    raise our spirits to joy,

we can laugh and hold hands with

                        the world

and listen to our music, our

                                                story

                        told by God himself.

prime

I garnish feathers after preening

            the sarcophagi and peer

            into his eyes

deep-fry locks of hair and

            veal to get chicken stock

            for faces of measure

he tells me to laminate mole-hide

  and tenderize daffodils and

  insinuate racist thoughts to beagles

the manhattan skyline burns red

  and the buildings pierce its heart and melt into the light -

                                    I am blinded

sans thought

we came from the pits of

            pitch black love -

distinguish between accidents

  and coincidences

dance and trip and make it look

            like part of the program

31 days will pass and pregnant

  women will not bleed, but

  soon enough their lips

  will be rosy and blood will rush

            to their cheeks

miracles don't happen for any reason

  the voices of reason draw

  strength from dreaming

when we embrace summer

  becomes green and questions

  beauty since it lasts for a fraction

  of life.

night in gale

fair Procne lend me your ears

  the morning dew hath struck the

  glimm'ring noon -

                                      maple leaves

dance whispering undaunted verses

  of leisure and you,

                  beautiful avi - an enchanting

                  songstress - brings me peace over

                  my burdened eyes

the midday sun blushes grey as

  clouds pass by idly in

  a midday slumber

Procne, darling Procne your heavenly

  harmonies bring sweet tears to

  my heavy eyes

let not the world tear your tongue

  out for the recesses of pleasure

hold thy self darling and do

  not tremble at the thought of

despair -

                  for all is right with the world

threshold

I knew a man

  who was depressed

    he took anti-depressants

      to get away from depression

it drove him to take other drugs

  to forget that he was taking

    anti-depressants to get away

    from depression

christmas eve, he started taking

  hard drugs to forget that he took

  drugs to forget that he took

    anti-depressants for his depression

and at the height of his abuse

  he told me the only way to end

  this cycle was to leave

I asked him what he meant by

  leaving and he sobbed

he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said 'you should go'

shine

this summer day -

  loving and caring warmth

  envelops me and I can hear

  it whispering adoration in my ear

my eyes see saturated colors of

  red, blue, and green and all

  I can think of is the beach

  and how beautiful it would be

parasols and coolers and ice

  swimsuits and volleyball and

  of course the smell of sunscreen

  and I'll rub it on my shoulders

this summer day -

  this sunny day

ma soeur

the day I heard

  that you were gone

             I thought

  it was a lie

I called your phone

   over

    and

  over again

heard your voicemail

              over

               and

              over again

I waited for you to call

  back but I knew

  the phone would

  never sing that song-

some Belle & Sebastian

  sing you downloaded on my

  phone and set as your

  ringtone

'you'll know when I call you

     and we can catch up'

  but we hardly ever

      did

it hurts to know we've

  both left a lot unsaid -

all I have are scattered

  memories of you