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America: You Beautiful Bitch

She’s a million billion cubic tons of habits,
She’s 350 million strong with human rabbits.
She’s populated, copulated, and hot desert faded,
She’s creationist and anti-science and carbon dated.

The Country that birthed me and cursed me
The system that just isn’t justice
Is blind and stuck. It just is.
The half legal rebellion that I first see
When I think about freedom, when I think about free.

Where a million votes count for nothing
Leaves me nitrous high like crazy pills
Leaves me heartbroken on apple pie window sills.
Makes my blood boil into boredoms sweet singing
Liberty bells silent on Facebook feeds endlessly ringing

Today we tear it all down
It’s finally the day, this minute this hour. This town.
We put down our flags and pick up our hearts.
We run with our bloody hands in fits and starts.
Let’s find out what freedom is without phones
A harsh bitter flavor of burnt microphones.

We yearn you and me,
We burn you and me.
Soul deep in our sharp minds is a hot need for change
Fanned by fiery flags atop scorching mountains, strange.

One person with great ideas is just one.
Now the real challenge. Now the real fun.
Non-digital real physical tangible action.

Our deep need to scratch finally has an itch.
America you beautiful diseased bitch.
We must no longer be a simple region.
We must flame. We must burn. We are legion.

She Called it Rage

She called it ‘Rage Issues’

She called it that when we first met.
She told me that I was special, handsome, gentle, kind.
She told me that even though I was damaged, dented, hurt and scared that she was too.

She stole my heart in 2 weeks.
24 hours a day 48 hours a night.
She stole my heart in 2 ways
She soothed the girl who lived in my medicated canyon of a heart,
she distracted me and kissed me like it was going out of style.

She took me on adventures,
She sent me pictures of her smiling, with demon eyes.
She refused to go on social media, it made me feel like her whole damn world.

She’d lost her father, experienced grief and it resonated with me in a way that I’d never felt. Here was someone hurt as much as I was hurting.

I slept with her and her sometimes unstable dog,
we held hands and I crushed her hips and pulled the pity from her perfect mouth.
She was way too damn pretty,
She was light and beautiful, a dancer and a poet.

She called it rage issues.
When one night she shut down, went silent.
Like a robot with the cord severed.
She went limp and dark and her eyes took vacations.

When the power came back on she was fury
She was every fear I’d ever had
She hated me, my touch, my look, my eyes
She hated life and books and truth and lies.

She screamed at me and told me I was hateful
She stormed away into the night like a train that’s never even heard of tracks.
Hours of cold walking, begging, hoping, crying,
I apologized 300 times for whatever I had done.

Some part of her broke off and while I chased her that night it floated away pulling a thread of safety and security we’d been weaving just that morning.

In tears and rage and shaking angst,
I took her to a safer place.
I slept sitting up with adrenaline just rotting in my veins.
My neck was sideways on a faded dirty couch

Staring at what my life had become overnight.

She called it “Rage Issues”
To this day I’m not sure what it meant.
She loved me like a storm and hated me like a hurricane.
When it passed it was like I’d had a knife to my throat.

I could only look sideways and she knew it.
In 6 hours she drove a spike in our future and put a straight jacket on my love.
After that ink just faded from the pages.
Nothing worked, the gears were missing teeth.
We stumbled along like marionettes with the strings all sticky

When I left, I said I’m sorry, though part of me was pissed.
When I left I shut down, powered off like an old TV
Dwindling to a speck and I felt guilty
So fucking guilty at how relieved I was, at how much easier breath could come from my lungs.

I don’t know what you’d call it, but she was everything I needed and everything I feared. It was 3 abusive girlfriends in one night and it was 2 Juliet’s worth of suicidal passion in 2 weeks.

She was everything, good and bad, in record time.

I guess that’s what the issue is.

Love issues, I call them.

Sleep the Dust Particle

You try to catch it,
fleeting out of corner vision,
you try to reach it,
glinting in a certain light,
You try to breathe it,
with one anxious breath after another.
You miss it,
when it fades in darkness,
You kiss it,
when it lands unnoticed on your lips.
You try to see it,
when it’s dancing in a moonbeam,
You try to be it,
when no one else notices,
It’s quick, and moves with every moment,
It evades your touch,
by the wind from your fingers,
It’s precious,
when you cannot have it.
So tiny a thing, letting go,
Like catching it would be easy,
But it’s always tossing and turning,
because it’s too small to sit still.
A thousand a night.
I miss every one.

Gangster Bard (Hip Hop Shakespeare)

Welcome dear friends to my telling tale.
Strictly true and doomed to fail
I’m damnably good and laughably male

I’m a wildcard with bling, this bards hard
The rhythm and the meters the thing
These Bitches be tripping
And their hand constantly seeks a ring

Canst thou Shakespeare that shit baby
That turns your no into a newfound maybe

What light through your bedroom window dares
till the break of a golden dawn
upon thy airy derrières daring airs

I do much wonder and ponder
Why I like them wack, tall and blonder
14 cocktails and she’s your Juliet
Here to let you take in her sunset

I pray thee to say maybe to my eager proposal
To damn the bed sheets to get all wrinkled and tousled

Rather proclaim it. I need it and I name it
Would a subwoofer by any other name, still bump?
What can I tell from the twinkle in thine eyes
Such a fool am I trapped between your golden thighs

Now is that weekend of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this glorious stunner
Now is that weekend where we blow the rent
On a pole dancing prancing dancer, named summer.

Once more to the breach dear friends
Before this ecstasy wears off and viagra ends.
You and wine with me and mine
To midnight from the hour nine

Until against wits end I’ve had my fill
All I beg from your eyes is Netflix and chill.
Until it’s good night, good night!
Parting is such sweet sorrow
To see with glee the back of you
In a full blown walk of shame tomorrow.

Creative Criminal

I commit art each night.
I breathe illegally.
I break into my soul.
I steal passions’ ideas from monotony.
I am a creative criminal for you.

Do Not Blink

I cannot stop, I cannot sleep.
I cannot breathe or the dreams will pour from me a liquid fire.
I cannot blink or I’ll see everything again.

You Always Leave

I want to live inside your absent mouth
To dodge your angry tongue
I want to hear your missing voice
And feel it’s empty air

You leave a giant hole in me
You leave and you always leave

I want to build a heatless fire
In your tiny thoughtless heart
I want to make a silent song for you
The only notes you understand.

You take up all the room in me
You leave and you always leave

I want to dream in colorless
Of all the universe without you
I want to sleep for fucking ever
In a frozen half vacant bed

You suck up all the air in me
You leave and you always leave

I’ll chase you in a lonely hunt
Scent your dark dark hair
I’ll trap you in a ghost parade
And celebrate your lonely eyes

You take more than I have to give
But I’ll stay and I’ll always stay.

Multiply Me

There were candy gloss eyes,
staring back through intuition,
The strain of thin fabric,
tight over tense shoulders.

She had baseball bats for eyelashes,
she beat me blinking pretty.
There was a moment’s hesitation,
In a pouting cotton pink lower lip,
knowing that half a second later,
her never ending neck would stretch.

She would lean forward and her hair,
a perfect mess of shady tones,
would swing forward an inch closer,
waving like a vanilla siren.

The light would hit the bright spot,
on the corner of her satin cheek,
her easy grace would stand,
holding her hips in a tornado.

The midnight desert curve of her,
would seduce shadows from her thighs.
In a tiny slice of absolute presence,
her wet gaze would soak in and,
an angel’s voice would whisper promises,
to every single inch of me.

When the white noise of her,
is fire in my eardrums,
I will be so much more than me.

I Don’t Think I’m Dreaming…

The sky is gray,
this coffee’s bitter,
I don’t think I’m dreaming.
the air is cold,
my mind is painful,
and I don’t think I’m dreaming.
Nothing makes sense,
I’m saying nothing,
and no one else is speaking.
You stare back at me,
from flourescent lights again,
I close both my eyes,
and picture when it’s bright again,
The sky is gray,
this coffee’s bitter,
and I dont think I’m dreaming.
I wish sometimes,
that I could sleep away the time,
When all my bad dreams,
Are awake and always seem,
to have too much meaning.
I’m asleep I think,
but I don’t think I’m dreaming.

Collapsible Rhythms

Toes tap with an imperfect passion,
slinging fingers in perfect melody,
a soft touch, twice, then more,
sensing opposing forces,
inevitable is currently arriving.
springs shrink and contract,
like they’re flirting,
with the possibility of expansion.
The dark circle outside the bright,
perfect circle, perfect moment,
there is breathing inbetween,
where the glitter that is skin,
shines so bright it hurts.
So, Rhythm collapses,
And the mind, doesn’t.