Saturday, May 25, 2013

Hey there little song bird
Sing one of your tunes for me.
Remind me of a time when
We both sang in the streetlight,
A tearful melody goodbye.
The final moment in our romance
of three summer seasons.

Our long duet started in that park
One warm July, when we resigned
Our love contingent on migratory patterns.
With each spring returning anew,
I turned to the west, hoping to see
Your little beak puckered in song.
I lost my voice long ago
But my screams still reverberate;
A tantrum perpetuated in echo.
In all of my frustration and hate
I have no real target; Under cover,
I blindly fire my thoughts
In this empty room.

If there were pictures on the wall,
The frames would be smashed.
Vases on the mantel would be
In pieces, unable contain itself.
Yet, there is nothing.
This room in my mind is a blank slate
And just a quiet place where I go
To let off some steam.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

When parents walk their children up to my desk
And have them practice the formalities of a bureaucracy,
Just so they can gain a sense of their impending adulthood,
These children begin to understand their importance
In relation to the world outside themselves.

It's not so much about please-and-thank-you's,
But instead about what you can and can't do.
They look up at me looking down on them,
Their eyes wide to mine narrow, and my hands
Are making motions they can't quite comprehend,
In relation to a screen they can't see, or if they could,
Understand with their limited experience in this world.
But despite their shortcomings, goddamn, they are eager to learn.

Written on April 27, 2013

Two days ago was my birthday.
I drudged through a marshy April lawn
Picking up my dog's shit and litter
From the previous tenants' child/children.

Toys and feces quickly accumulated
In a small, brown paper sack
I received during my trip to the liquor store
In preparation for the evening's event.

My eyes scanned the lawn for at least an hour;
Lost in repetition I began to take inventory.
Where was I ten years ago? I realize
I'm on the cusp of another major transition.

Almost a quarter-century old,
I'm headed towards a milestone
That acknowledges my adulthood
And scares the hell out of me.

Ten years ago I was getting ready
For my new-found independence.
Entering high school, soon to be
Driving cars and fingering girls.

Instead, the next four years
Remained largely like the last.
There were some girls and cars but,
There was a lot more staying at home
And jerking off to the internet.

Ten years ago I was in a mall
Accompanied by my friend
And my parents. It was there
We dined at a bar and arcade.

Since, I have gained independence,
And with that solitude. I move at most
In a pair with a designated friend or lover.
Now my events take place at a bar.

In the past, it was all video games,
Junk food, and angst. Besides what I got
As presents, I remember playing the claw game
Winning a bear with tickets in his hand.

 This week, it was picking up dog shit
connected to a stick in the mud; just so
When I'm stumbling around drunk in the dark
I've responsibly avoided getting some on my shoe.