She don’t stop kissin’,
And when she sleeps she snores,
But it’s soops cute.
My pee hole burns
When it’s mostly booze
Coming out of going in.
Abigail got sad and drunk,
so I had to kick her out
So I could sleep and rest my bones,
From Denver to Fort Lauderdale
Sucks so hard, snoring and hogging the arm rest.
I’d rather him be a sleepy suicide bomber
Than a regular white asshole
Who doesn’t have an understanding of personal space.
If he wakes up, he can fully see my screen
And the fact that I am talking shit about him,
But I don’t care because i believe I can take him.
My anxiety is at full tilt
So I will decide to cuddle him
Per Enid’s recommendation and ride this out.
Sometimes people are stupid
And happen to be there, just “there”;
I am one of those people.
That won’t matter in a month let alone a year,
I hear the highway and a dove cooing
And I am sublimely reminded that I am here
On the earth in a life that won’t last forever
So I try to appreciate it, even the hum of trucks
On the road behind my new home where
I hate to live but I have given up on ego
To be a better father and try to remind myself
That New York ain’t going nowhere,
And just as well I am already scheduled
To travel a ton this year so my shoes can catch
invade my dreams,
and my pants leave,
I only work out my arms
at the LA fitness
because, as the beautiful Dragon says,
I can’t write poems with weak arms.
Neuro-harness my blues
while I make my way into town
for a slight of night,
and then Down to the river,
across the plains
where I restock my munitions
Dónde está Ryan?
I don’t know where he went.
His heart was broken.
And then repaired.
But a little bit.
And he will never be the same.
Every damn day.
Only to be blocked
He is reserved to be.
Without a pistol.
But with a still hurt heart.
Hurting me something good
And also making me write
These idle words which make
Witches out of women
And monsters out of men.
It’s only a matter of time
Until I have full-blown arthritis,
And my writing will turn into
Hunting and pecking,
Like a handicap hawk
Who has lost his way.
I’m certain my heart will attack me as well,
But hopefully I survive the first barrage
Like a beast from the Upper East
And continue living and lying
To myself and others
For many more days and in many more ways...
For you to randomly call me
From a 502 number, only to panic before
Picking up and trying to act cool for a fool's moment.
But then what?
Please let me know, somehow, you got the book,
Because I will keep sending you those giant copies,
Our minds are mazes.
I love when I get a 12:36am call from Jongo
On a technical Thursday while watching Netflix
Like just a little dose of evil
For distraction and I realize the time,
Again, because I do the same thing
At two in the afternoon because
Days are long but life is short.
And joy ends with your sex nose.
I don’t have a dad, party peeps.
And each morning I have one less Chance.
She Will surprise me one day I’m sure.
But it will probably be 2026.
when I should be writing other poems,
on the side of the road,
and I love it here so hard
maybe I will move here
and try out other peoples eyes
and get rid of your items.
As my daughter sleeps upstairs
While I politely whig out
With a ninjas and a bunch of
Problematic poetic weirdos,
My night is gonna be like the movies
Where people get wasted and nothing happens.
"Now" has to know if her life
Is happy or haunted but the perfect point
Is to keep drinking and spilling
Memories and musings and mistakes
Give me more than you take in the sky
Because you’ll get get 666 points for trying,
Especially borne under Scorpio skies
Cheers to the one time I killed a coyote,
But she didn’t die immediately,
And I had to put it out of its happy misery,
Which I am not proud of in the least bit,
But the coyote bit me twice on each wrist
and I have two fang mark scars on my arm.
|thanks for believing in me|
and my dumb dreams
and helping some, if not all,
come true...out of the clear blue you.