two year renewal

coffee jacked for my license renewal
though not as much as usual
in my fraudulent bedford rescue squad t-shirt
and looking dire
lobby sitters think i've seen some shit
and I have
but not like an EMT

took the two year option
cheaper and lord knows where i'll be
if i am
by then
onto texas in less than a month 

readying for the shot
i tried to evoke the thai buddhas
still heavy eyes unmovable
but roger snapped it so quick
i was sure the flash found me
a petrified bunny with a half-hearted pompadour 

it came out alright 
somewhere between the two
which is strangely fitting 
and that's all I can ask for

inversion

nothing worldly and no worthwhile words 
to offer
only thing left to give is love 
and no one wants that
one lady does
and she's not here
so it all turns inside
and travels back through
to the ground

earnings

last one's obviously an overstatement
an exaggeration fueled by hunger
so many wonderful friends
of glowing moments
earned only after
years of patience
something to remember
before my walk

theft

card declined
just wanted breakfast
proves a point 
this town has
nothing to offer me

hot little red pickup 
still parked on my street
literally playing out the scenario
of stealing it and driving
to texas today
because i am so fucking
helpless and done with everything
that it seems as good a plan as any

but everyone knows theft is wrong

the slicer

it must be my day of reckoning 
cause i'm gettin judged judged judged
from all sides
but mostly from behind
as i'm chained to the meat slicer
against the wall 
with all manner of shit flying in my face
slicing eternal and never fast enough

as this place is a fucking zoo 
and behind this counter is the monkey house
of course these spectators stare
but when the great zoomaster 
comes down from his office in the sky 
on the real judgement day
we're all gonna be surprised

last swim

i am cutting curtis pond

sheen of right arm in rhythm

i am a late summer swimmer

sailing toward orange sunset clouds

alone, going opposite porch partiers

they watch me, or not

so temperate i'm unconcerned

drunk juggling

the last thing i want is to break us

so used to being reckless just for me
and i can break me
and i do
and that's fine

but now i'm drunk juggling both our hearts
with a smoke hanging from my mouth
and it's a real show of danger

i hear you asking me to stop
in your grapefruit voice
but you can't just stop mid-toss

i won't drop it baby

waste waste waste

sit and watch the moon move 
from 1.5 inches to 1 inch 
left of the clock tower
waste this waste of a night
in front of this waste of a bar
writing my waste in my waste of a book
enduring whatever sounds come out the door 
over my shoulder
cause i love this place
and holding down this waste of a bench

moon and passerby
go on with your chores
don't care if you look at me
just don't talk to me

numbered runner

to do list grows
as account balance shrinks
and it's only noon payday

if money = momentum
which seems to be the equation
i'm at such a crawl 
that the money moves right past me

i'm one of the middle relay runners
without the fanfare of starting
without the glory of finishing
paying just to run
in the name of some faceless sponsor

numbered horse

when you've opened your eyes 
seen for a moment every grain of sand
tried to sing it true 
to still the blurred horizon
and see its clouds' slow float

look again
just the gravel of that hateful track
wasn't a song to lift you at all
only an anguished wail
now put the blinders back on
and be what you are
another numbered horse
with the whip at your ass

vase

what's better than being a rose
is being the vessel that holds them
when the day ends wilting
you are cleaned and wait through night
to be filled in morning sun
by new fresh flowers 
and the hope from the hands that set them

pushing broom

i just love sweeping
give me a liveable wage
i'd sweep to my grave

clerk

i can't even distinguish the sounds anymore
whining rich children, ringtones, sandwhich orders
all the roaring white noise
of accessories
of comfort and commerce 
any real sounds inside me
muted by these waves
day in day out 
by nature opposed to poetry
meant to drown a muse

and underneath i hear her gasping
and hear the call
of old kentucky poem juice
again tonight
again

present

i'm going to walk up the hill home
too hot in my sweater
with grace
just to prove to myself
that no one's silent pressures
not even the sun's
can dictate my actions
it's my birthday
and this is a gift i guess

face work

speaking of 30
i've spent most of these years
not facing my work
and now we're face to face
and it isn't roses
and the years have become days
and today so far
i've been a clerk
and a pedestrian

with your breeze, shorts and pints
midsummer town
try your best
distract away
i'm fucking buckling down

30

gold evening sunlight commands the bar
in a rare showing
making all the filthy floorboards sing
like classical landscapes 

in two days i turn 30
recorded drums for a document
something clean made from the dirty
get it pressed
then maybe i'll grow up
or something 

lighted separate

the following noon the last log still smolders
in your yard as i weed through mud and grasses
to find my third throwing knife
amongst all the pieces 
of the dishes you two owned
broken in darkness onto the party's fire
when writing our sacrifices onto scraps and throwing them in 
didn't satisfy

things get lost or broken in wild night
and twelve hours later
the quiet sunday sun lights them separate