I Miss You, and It Makes Me Happy

I miss you,

and it makes me happy.

We may know 

within the month.

I can love you,

I can see our future,

and it'll be hard,

but you deserve it,

and I will fight for you

and me,

love,

and I will wait for you

if they take you away.

I will miss you,

and I will be happy.

Thank God That I Just Don't Care

My head hurts, and I
can't tell if I
love you anymore.
You're the best thing
for me, but I
don't want to be well
some days.
Other days,
I don't care.
Nothing personal.
I don't care about the
things I
busy myself with.
I don't.
Thank God I'm
unaware,
or thank your God
I'm so aware,
'cause who really knows
why it fucking matters.
I don't know these people,
those,
and they don't know me.
I'm not special,
just like Dad said.

Am

I am,
at all times
I truly am.
I forget because
the movie is in front
of me,
saying they're all
part of this
Being, which is confusing
since our universes
will often
crash.
I am One
with myself,
nothing else.
I am everything
that is,
and all that is not
can exist,
but it is not of me.
Of course,
I am a lot of things,
I know,
and I will forget
they don't
because those dreams
have parts
extinct
in mine.
I am
an animal,
a barbarian,
a universe,
a man,
a thought.

Where I stayed the winter of 2013-2014

It’s warm in my room, 

my single room in the quadriplex, 

cold when I step out. 

My car’s outside, 

frosted over, 

all over. 

I'm responsible and

I want to do it well, 

perfectly well. 

Well I can’t always. 

My room’s a mess, 

my car’s a mess, 

clothes are everywhere, 

books are everywhere,

my eggs are scrambled, 

the girlfriend is somewhere, 

everyone is fried, 

that’s all I know. 

I like my disheveled materials
because they’re there 

and I’m not wondering where they went, 

except for the baseboards

but it’s all right
because then I know 

what’s in my walls 

and there aren't many bugs 

so I can 

kill them all and 

sweep them away 

when I get around to it. 

I've had sex in my bed 

at least twice, 

so there’s that, too.

And my heater makes sure
I don't die during the night.  

Frosted Windshield

Snow sputters
down, down like always
as I trek
to the Buick Century
grandma left me.

Its roof is dirty
and now some
asshole's brushed black paint
on the bumper; I didn't recognize
the car when the girl and I
saw it.

Never cared about my car's
aesthetics; she didn't need to look good
to function.

Having my car start
after a long day is the
best:
better than payday,
a good book
or climaxing.

I used to walk when it
snowed,
now I drive.

Doll

Look at her:
she's a doll,
no doubt.

That woman has
seen some days
and has gotten
me through some.

Wish I could know
what she's thinking
when she tells me
it's
nothing.

Home becomes a
strange place
at night with
no one to
hold close.

If I'm lucky,
I'll hold her again
in our bed.

What a doll.

Binary Universe (Untitled by Author)

This is a piece from a colleague and friend, Jared Sparkman.

Lord bathe u in endorphin
Orphan monarch transform
File
Transfer cancer fist fuck
Power lines fourscored
Smog haze end of time
That which will live
Without having feeling
Will die of its own artifice
Vacant machines
Like pawns left kneeling
Die left to their own device
The dark is a shadow
Corner
Jung and Robert Bly
Singularity in love
With the question
On the wire in the lines
The intellectual his face
Illuminate from the data
Alive on screen
Educating the initiate
Into the symbiotic trace
The sigil in his verse
Active nightlife
Abstinent sustaining
The eastern nodding curse
The flat dimension
The binary universe

Back to Work

The meaningless fucks gather to
impede my work and
supply it,
the bottom-rung saps
were suckered into paying
$1400 to prevent
a lack of luxury,
mongrels rotting away on
crushed meat
topped by various grasses;
one day,
their energy will fertilize
the next generation.

Crazy-Making

This guy,
maybe a friend,
told me he
wants to make people think
that they're crazy.

I said,
Most people
probably wouldn't be
smart enough
to know.

Tithing

Lucretius pursuits
dissolved piety
superfluous possessions
a cabin in the Jungle.
Using time to make
time pass.
Not choosing to who
Me is, agreed
by my ancestors,
generation after generation
until it reaches me.
I can't believe in it,
but I must,
money, my God,
excommunicate me.

Mustard

A coworker told me,
"That girl looks like a
mustard bottle."  She was wearing
a yellow dress
and she was definitely pudgy.
I thought she looked more like
lemonade.
My grandmother's favorite color was
yellow.
I miss her
some days.
Her coffin was
grey.

The Road Taken

Always I wonder where the
road not taken could lead.

I always take the right,
just as fair, for
it would lead me to
the end eventually,
left with not a thing,

not to say
regret plagues the route
through the undergrowth.

Pieces of me would live on
when I wanted them to die off,
my love, my ambition,
my created peace made
from creation of a piece,
those many
versas tristes y alegres.

I hate to travel the road alone,
but I'm the only one that has to.

Now,
grab your coat,
I need gas.

Kids Today

Kids, those
bastards,
you either
love them
or choke them,
thinking,
maybe they'll learn
to keep their
voice down
through one of these
methods.
I never had luck
with discipline.
My dad gave up
because mom
wasn't there
to agree with him. He was
louder than me.
Kids today are so strange.

New Life

Across lands in my
head, something happy to pass the
time until I become dissatisfied
once again,
maybe taking pity on
my warrior, pixels wearing animosity.
Role-playing is best kept to
the bedroom, not onscreen
for your roommate to stumble
upon,
judge you for.
Might as well leave the porn playing.
I can't get past level 20,
but there's so much to do. Already
killed the dragon...
can I get laid for that?