the men

today I was walking through the park
full of dandylions and grass
and dogs and couples
kissing.
there was
football and soccer practice
and I noticed
out of the corner of my eye
a homeless man.
he was dirty
god was he dirty
unshaven and
dirty
and it occured to me
that this man was once a child.
he was once a child,
with a mother who fed him soup
on cold days
and
a father who taught him how to be
a man.
he was once a child
wide eyed on his
first day of school
with a bed
and a baseball bat
and a red backpack
and a favourite game
and a crush
and a teddy bear.

today, I was looking through my book
full of presidents and dates
and ancient civilizations and
artists.
there were names
of important people
and I noticed
out of the corner of my eye
a photograph.
he was hanging
god, he was hanging
from a tree
with a rope tied around his neck
and
people underneath him
observing.
and it occured to me
that this man once had a life.
he was once a slave,
who earned his freedom
doing god knows what.
he had eaten an untold
amount of food,
consumed gallons upon gallons of water,
and had gone to the store.
he had purchased his suit
a full three piece suit
as well as his top hat
from another person.
he decided to wear that outfit
that day
and now he is in
my book.

love

anxiety
mad heart pound
flutter
dovelike,
climaxing
steady downhill
electricity in your hands
reality check
odd solid in your
sternum,
swallowed words up the
back of your throat
into sinuses
out through the eye




shes beautiful.

barber shop

there is a man outside
of the
barber shop,
smoking.
the billboard on
santa monica boulevard
says
two million
seven hundred sixty three thousand
nine hundred and forty
two
people died this year
because of
smoking.
so the man will die,
the barber will die,
the scissors will die,
the swirling sign will die,
the red and blue will die,
the street will die.
the tobacco companies and
their employees are not to blame
working is not a crime
but deliberately wasting your life
amongst so many deliberately
wasted lives
is.

to cheat at poker

say, say,
say, say,
say, say.

fails, again

aesthetic is
a odd word
qbb look at.
harmonic is
a odd word
to listen at.
experiment
fails, badly

two

there are two types
of women
in this world.
the ones that won't
sleep with you
(who you never need
to call back)
and
the ones that will
sleep with you
(who you never need
to call back)

if you can accomplish this,
you are a better man than I.

the one

there you are
stolen from me
again
just out of my reach
again
I would have loved you anytime
better than those dicks
I'm a bad loser
I don't lose
ever.
if you could have been
the girl I told
"I'm sorry for breaking your heart"
who ran out into the street
sobbing
or the one I saw
behind her boyfriend's back
then dumped her
for you
you never knew that
he didn't either
that I don't lose
but you beat me
the one girl in the
world
that didn't know
I cared.