draft

fires and friends sometimes show up unexpectedly

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be drunk but I certainly haven’t forgotten what it feels like
to get high



that sick grin running up the side of his face

I saw glimmers of emotions beneath the lines of his eyes, a subtle movement behind the eyes of the controls that he did not want me to see

It’s been germinating in me clothes around like nests

packages which spoil within minutes of your opening them

oppressed by all the cabinets in this room staring their faces at me

I take the bitter horseshoe shaped pill three times a day but I still feel beat up by a ring full of people with droopy eyes and wet hats.

What happens in these small bumps of time

listening to the sounds of upstairs

today I want the laughs and banners to fly


we were standing on the shore of a small fast stream and life’s brunts were leaves whizzed by
I fell all in the river

my jeans a pair of jumping jacks drying in the tree


my car keeps humming a broken tune

You can’t tell what old ladies are thinking when they look over at you because their faces are so set with wrinkles

but I know that feeling of being so empty,

hungering for experience

my left foot feels full around the shin and warm
back home to face some part of myself that I didn’t want to

the snow outside is slow and scarce

Molly the retarded girl comes over and sits next to me, her enthusiasm making my glumness and tiredness more obvious to me

“What are you reading?” “Just something for college,” I say, realizing I sound like an asshole.

rope pocked with knots

the wet wood whining

a malamute asleep a toilet seat perched over a blue plastic milk carton, eight dollars worth of wet wood burning

I can take your zipper down with my teeth but I can’t make you love me

the years are filling in with the fire of still-yet-to-come