running through the chapel
quick like a fox
silver and red with
sunday morning blues and a hangover
I’m sitting in a sandbox i’ve always hated
watching the seconds pass by
with stretch limos and lies
(i should have risen earlier)
it was a forgotten sunset
and i missed the sunrise
it’s almost time, yet i could sit here all day
stuck on the idea of an idea
broken into pieces, i just can’t seem
to escape this affliction
this, writing addiction
even when there’s nothing there
i’m held in a demanding conviction
forced to create some strange new fiction
sitting at a modern typewriter and
piecing together this disjointed depiction
highlighted, rearranged, and edited in the dark
command s, move to trash, the final eviction

holy trinity
one step closer to death
and always wanting more
conversations with dirty old men
fat,unhappy and
walking in a circle shaped like a cage
three beers and a fishing line
always outta sync, and out of time
there were pickup trucks and broken bumpers
coolers,canopies and black bodies of water
a sea of slick ladies and saber-toothed men
all wearing cowboy hats and dusty boots
long legs and bikini boobs
watching women who love women
and the men who follow them
wild eyes wide with
obsession and anticipation
the dead are rising to a cacophony
of consummation and chirping cell phones
when is it enough?
gods grant me patience
to slow this raging beast

i need fear and medication, something
to force myself to wake from this dream
notifications and dictation
ipods and kindles with, constant stimulation
an absurd form of resistance
obscure inspiration
conversations, trepidation
long haired libertarian loonies
treading like heretics
in the palace of the state
it’s a trap, set up and knocked down
with makeup and chains
what are you? and who are you working for
there are no good men anymore
just zombies and drug dealers
television citizens with the absence of
hoffman lenses
chewing bubblegum and cheering war
mate, feed, kill, and repeat
it’s a festival of the dead and dying
held in trailer parks with
broken swing sets, handguns, and car stereos
and the children are riding bicycles
lost and looking for trouble
as the drones fly overhead