Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Random Shit

dad’s gonna be pissed

my generation had no great war

until the towers fell

and the government invented one

then we were told

it’s not our fight

beyond the departures gate

at the airport

our struggle is removing our shoes

and grabby TSA agents

we never grew a victory garden

we never salvaged all our metal to make bullets

or watched the soldierly  Vietnam death toll

march across the bottom of our television screens

we were raised by Atari systems, Pop Rocks, Sweet Valley High books,

and Bob Barker’s skinny microphone

so forgive me, my fellow

generationally x’d out americans

if i don’t give a shit

about your opinions on the upcoming election

melting pot

melting pot
if by melting pot
you mean
everyone is boiled
down to their bones
to be consumed
by rich white men

trick candle

when life has taught you

all love ends

in pain

it becomes easy

to extinguish every flame

but not him

he’s my trick candle

he burns brighter

the more i try to blow

i have learned

to stop blustering

enjoy the party

and eat

the damned cake

t’ain’t shakespeare, folks

i knew it was love
when i laid my head
on his lap
and he said,
“oh, that feels good,
my dick in your hair…”

a traveler’s guide to avoiding a hell of your own making

it’s taken me
nearly forty years
to learn to say
to fear
to vice
to vanity
to unhealthy people
to intolerable situations
so to hell with
fake it ’til you make it
i say
fuck it ’til you chuck it

a poet is

a poet is a towering painting
in a sunlit gallery
of an ancient museum
gilded frame displaying
a livid angel whose face
gapes in horror at the past
fiery sword in one hand
cradling a cherubic baby in the other
whose innocent eyes glimmer toward
all hopes for the future
their wings raging
in the storm
of the present

until the day that one comes along

my dream man
is a person capable
of shutting the hell up
turning off his phone and television
sitting down next to me
to simply read
a book

check, please…

he asked if i
wanted dessert
my smiling lips declined
that i am saving room
for sins left

i only have eyes

he didn’t look
upon me
with a lover’s eyes
he memorized me
which is quite
a different relationship
i believe

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