I always think -

that I am better than the ones they choose
over me at midnight on a Friday morning.

There he is with his clean shoes
pressed shirt
clean cut
and smoking his Camels
dripping with security and predictability.

I don't have a plan
or a clue.
My shirt is faintly stained
and I'm going on four years old
and long ago shaved off my hair
and quit smoking (mostly).

But.

I could give her love like she wouldn't believe

She would scream,
and cry -

her ruby eyes
rolling up in her skull like marbles
as she forgets where I begin
and she
ends.

So while they both pull away
in his shiny new car
with all the payments paid a few days in advance
just to be safe and responsible,
I'll be here
dreaming of gentle flesh
and angry love.

Marbles.

Every time that I see pictures of the Earth
I fall in love.

I wish we would stop ruining it.

We, as humans, are all very different and skilled
at many different things.

But ruining it is something that we all have

in common.

Hubris.

Sometimes I wonder:
Am I serious?
Do I really sit here and type this crap out?

I was feeling dismal at 12:36
and I was going to write about it.

Then I realized:
nobody cares.

Least of all me.

Emotions are temporary
and usually dependent upon some triviality.

It is 90 degrees in my apartment
and the other night I got too drunk
and I am getting older so the hangovers
come like unwanted guests who stay for a few days
too long.

I watch the cat try to keep cool
by laying in front of the fireplace
or front door.
Dying to find a cool linoleum
or stone slab.

I am too cheap to turn the air conditioning on
because I am tired of trading in my paycheck
for the "basic comforts" of life.

The sun used to nurture us
and now we all run from it,
hiding our heads and faces
in a ghostly white bliss.

My poems don't mean anything.
They are mostly moments
and lies.