(2013)
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
you are guilty of failing to love and understand me, like a dog is guilty of failing to speak or use
my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible
here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i
cool this angst some with beer, amazing how it works, three in and suddenly ashamed that i could hate
I understand the tattoo now “VERITAS” on your wrist, only there because it is entirely absent everywhere else.
I just felt what I think I’ll feel always, once we’ve finally met, and share this cool space, like an open secr… It felt like all my favorite songs…
god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.
STEP BACK! There’s an infection you’ll get if you come any closer. It will open your eyes through the crust
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
stupid met crazy decided to have a baby or two... what else you gonna do?
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
was all stupid. you weren’t that entertaining. i find it all only sad now, that
I dream sometimes you surprise me and it is surprising that I don’t immediately realize I’m dreaming
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