The Future and a Piece of Advise
You asked me
How many times would you go
to the moon and back
I said once
To stay up and elevated
denouncing the populace that stands
with my petty cane
with proclamations pettier than the
skin on my lips
“I think people are meant to wallow in their insufficiencies till’ they’re old and gray.”
When I’m old, I hope I have something to look back on. If I’m not alone, I’ll look forward to laying in bed with my wife. We’ll both be tired and fat. I’ll probably have a long beard, but we’ll be happy. At least I’m hoping. If I haven’t done anything, if I just watched the world crumble on my high horse on the moon, at least she’ll be next to me. Hopefully.
There is a time to be happy and sad
to look forward in anticipation
or dig your own grave
Both if you’re into that.
Before I’m on my death bed, I still have to deal with every trivial goal. Putting gas in my car, washing behind my ears, combing my hair. I suppose I’ll participate. Till’ then, I’ll look at the phases of the moon and name each one of them. Dahlia, Sarah, Rose, Jenna, Kelly. If I name every phase I encounter, the future they have planned for me will be a little less mysterious.
My parents are gone for the weekend. Woot woot. I should do something stupid to further progress my suburban angst.
Highway 228
I remember the time it was cold and we were playing catch. I was bundled up in my sweater, and we passed that ball around over and over, over and over again.
Even when I was in the midst of people, I was alone, and it wasn’t right. And that worn out baseball went back and forth, back and forth. Because nothing mattered, and the only thing that existed was my breath leaving my mouth as a cloud in the street light.
When I was by myself, it never felt like it. And I suppose it was scary, because when nothing matters, it creeps up on you.
“For once, I would like to show you exactly how I feel and think. For once, I would like for you to set yourself aside and wallow in me. I’m fully aware it won’t happen. I just want you to see everything deconstructed, serrated - to be above everything but feel like you’re nowhere. Even if it was just a glimpse…
If everybody would do this for each other, or just try, maybe they would place down their weapons.”
I remember the times I would fall inwardly with no cushion to speak of. I would wake up sweaty and remain terrified. All that I could hear was the habitual beep of a radar going on and on, on and on, as my pupils widened.
Optimism and Ice Cream
The blurry leftovers that
caress my mind
The dry tumbleweeds that
scratch my skull
I worship the mind
my mind because that’s all
there is
And I’ll tell you I’m not busy
when I’m tasting that candy
that ice cream
Pale rooms and I wake
no pants and shattered sheets
Keep that bible in the drawer
because I’m tired of
hearing myself say
blessed are the meek
You can say she was graceful
when she danced
with the light switch flipped
alone and deprived
when she felt her limbs as water
when she felt the light of flashlights
zoom across her skin
I watched
on the other side of the screen
the time I was grey
where smoke littered the air
when I used 3-D glasses
to observe you
attempting
to make you whole
It’s Nothing
It wasn’t too long ago
when I started embracing
the honeycomb texture
that inflames my mouth
I always get caught in collectivism
Like the nails against my forehead,
earthquakes at the laundry mat,
dirty corners of abandoned houses
and I am
bland, sterile, clean
the pearl that roles off my
clean cut tongue
You needn’t save me from this mess
because I am my own family at times
and the palm that presses against my own chest
the fingers that slowly trains my neck
my throat no longer trembles
You needn’t keep me any longer
remember when you felt all by yourself
when used to call yourself a peace monger
All I can recall is narcissism
So, neither do I
I Have So Much Energy it’s Like Not Even Funny
The government sucks
I just want to melt away
and run forever
Broken Glass - A Nice Day Out
The apartment complex looked quaint with rocking chairs on each patio and balcony. The buildings were painted light peach and blue. It was a gated community with an apparent secret. No one was outside - no one appreciated the quaintness.
I hardly regret anything I do, but there is one thing.
We were walking through an empty lot. I had my old shoes on and you had your flip flops. The sun was warm and we appreciated this sensation as much as what the shade of a tree provided.
I can wait forever. I’ll wait on those rocking chairs sitting lonesome like, handsomely crafted and painted white.
We reached the fence garnished with green and I jumped over it. I heard it rattle when I landed on the ground, then I turned around. You were still standing behind the fence with your long black hair mildly moving in the breeze.
Prologue?
You said you were all alone when your family left that one day. You felt like the only person on earth. You were petrified, paralyzed by the immensity of seclusion. You weren’t wild, but an odd child. You spent a third of your life scouring this country for your family. Your only clue: a hotel room number. As soon as you were eighteen years old, you drove. Ironically, you couldn’t walk. You were number one in every race that life made you participate in, but when it came to relaxing, all you did was fidget. Don’t say otherwise! You had a hard time staying in one town, much less in a chair. I bet you never imagined meeting me in a place like the Armadillo Inn. It was a pretty crappy place, and I swear, the new paint job in my room was only to cover up a murder scene. Nonetheless, we met.
America
I have nowhere to go and
It’s not like I want you to show
the way you scratch your lips
or move your hips from side to side
It’s all a tendency in this
weekly mess
Monday is decent and
Friday is almost always the best
Because we partake in this capitalist society
that surrounds us
(Little did they know
we were the actual shelves
and colorful plastic wrappers)
I also acknowledge there is catharsis
and we slowly float towards it
but never obtain it
Like the time -
that moth fluttered on my ear
that mosquito wandered into my shower
We’re too busy measuring the leaps and bounds
that take us from isle to product
When I saw that girl with short shorts and
thick rimmed glasses
When people thought we were consumers
and I was learning how to walk
when I was grateful for short shorts
I’m almost done with finals - my last one is on Monday. I need a haircut. I just woke up. Friday is the best day. I stained my favorite jeans by accident. I fell whilst long-boarding and tore the skin on my palms apart then touched my jeans. I got them for six dollars at the thrift store. I never buy from any other stores. Well, maybe the goodwill. This is also the longest personal post I’ll ever make. I like peace and quiet.
Visitor
It is time to start the arduous task
of creation when destruction is
too convenient
She said in the afternoon air
on my porch
“arduously” she said
with her tongue flickering
against her teeth
breaking the isolation I enjoyed
throughly and my grip against
the brick wall holding up my house
My fingers were worn ragged
from rubbing this wall
oh so gently
And isolation is accompanied
(you would think otherwise)
with a different set of problems
closer to my crackling chest plate
When she saw my dark eyelids
and pale skin
She said I needed to get out more
Pinwheel
I am at the center of my reservation as the pinnacle of strife rotates around me. Black paint smothered on each stripe with patient contempt. The man in the suit stands idly by as this circle spins, with clothes tattered and the skin around his eyes worn like old leather. He whispers as life continues to rotate, but I blind my eyes, I deafen my ears, I cross my t’s. The whispers cascade into my ear canal, eventually accumulating. I am ignorant of their message, though. There are letters better left unread and perks to the isolation I revel in.
I used sit in front of my mirror for hours staring at the paint that used to ooze from my mouth. Sometimes purple, most of the time, black. At least the walls behind me were freshly painted white, and for the most part, sterile.
