Redemption Of A Salesman

Tonight, I started where it all began.
I reached inside,
removed the lungs from a little boy
and put them in my back pocket.

He knew it was coming.
He had sucked the purity
out of far too many necks,
and as much as I felt the need to carry him on my shoulders,
I knew I couldn't let the bastard live.

Midnight Frozen Fire
Rough Orange
Gleaming Windowpanes
Bleeding Skylines
Star Bright
Bitter Air
My Best Friend.
Yoshi, Tross, Lancelot.

Last Words.
"No matter how thick the clouds get, no matter
How fuzzy the screen is, you're RIGHT HERE."

He kissed goodbye the Sunshine Faces
and Rainbow Dancers,
Shook hands with Serenity's Sister,
Smiled at ME and my bloody right hand,
Rolled his eyes at The Irony,
and fell on his back,
Chest open,
smirk still resonant.

Ladies and Gentlemen,
I can breathe.
I can fucking breathe again.

Price Tags (Silver Chains)

I once championed silver chains
A clavicle wrought with
Measured pertinence.
Stitched price tags into my flesh
Bound loosely by peer affirmation.
The problem with price tags
And silver
Is that afflicted areas
Begin to rot.

Break this streak,
Draw me a finish line.
Suspend clarity in the horizon
Dangle lucid from a string
Attached to a stick
Attached to my forehead
I’ll sprint until the clock stops.

Or bestow me with a stopwatch.
How underestimated
Such infinite expansion
Never nothing noise
Further cluttering the alter
Silenced with a button.
Fathom the chance
To clench the reigns,

But not for long.
Unfocused lenses
Shed magnificent light.
Suffocated color
Broken beautiful
Is quest.
That burning
That rotten tomato sensation
Is mission.

I love you all.
Too much.

Broken Records

Silence Screams.

Dropped my bag in the parking lot
Laid on my left side,
Arms open, cheeks caked with gravel,
Palms drenched, a crimson
So sticky sweet,
Entranced by rubber tubes and
Stale golden orbs in the ink.

Fate, a wretched sage
With a beard made entirely of
Leather, rubber and glass
Crumpled you up into a paper ball
Within seconds,
While I,
I could remain here on the pavement
For weeks and live to see
A lifetime
Fall through the cracks.

I’ve been screaming your name
For well over four weeks now.
I’m beginning to think
You can’t even hear me.
So why desert these car tires,
The blood and the asphalt?

Switch fire mother desert bring me into eclipse
Take my desires and wishes
Send them through a grinder
Blaze the dust through a crack pipe
Walk me into your garden
Let me drink from your fountain
Eat your fruits
Tell me a story
Write words on my forehead
Outline them with macaroni noodles
And cigarettes.

Statues will quiver in my wake.
I am an ended journey,
A grenade dud,
An obsidian snowball,
Helter-skelter terracotta music box.
I breathe whispers.
I've tasted hurricanes,
But I feed on broken records.


Break it, mol-. Break it, mol-.
Break it, mol-. Break it, mol-

I’ll just admire the tin bastions
And how they ignore one another
On the bus.

I think I’ll take in the scenery
Just a little longer.

When Alone

I am severed in two
From the heart down.
An open wound,
A gaping mouth,
Consuming all the dark.
I can't wear this porcelain much longer,
blood seeps out of the cracks.

Take me.
Reveal me, entrails strewn
about the courtyard.
roll me in glass and jewel
Paint me with Emerald
and Silver.
Bare my back,
and let me kneel for her
just once.

I found solace in her skin,
Warmth in her scent,
Life in her eyes.
Music in her smile.
Emptied, evermore.

Will you return to me?
smile me to my knees,
Let me embrace your legs
as you sift thru my hair
with whispers,
standing proud and resilient.
Oh heroine that I adore,
will you discover me once more?

Transient are these moments
Without your touch.
Fleeting are these endevors.
I'm so, so tired
my sweet memory.

Hear me , Love,
Absolve me.
Carry my remnants
to the water
and expel me.
Function is forever lost.

Precursor

Hey there.

I am nothing but a
Bruised sword sheath
Without you.
When I try to speak,
Broken phrases
From tragic love songs.

Arms extend
Hold my shell above water.
But I still can't breathe,
No, not anymore.

I am stripped of my voice,
And it will be a long long time
Before I can find the words again.

Until then,
I want you to know
That every day
I call out your name
At least five times,
Even if it's only
A whisper.

That the most terrifying minutes
lay in the five to twenty
before I fall asleep.

The depth of your grey eyes
Still consumes me
And won't let me rest
Any longer.

I'll find those words for you my love.
Until then, please,
Take these teardrops.
They're too heavy,
And they're all for you.

Masterpiece.

This evening I was a gray-feathered pigeon,
A spectator of ethereal occurrences.
Upstairs, the paperback palaces bestowed Brigham
With a messenger, and he wasn't to utter a syllable.

He wore navy blues like a sailor,
The stature of a Santa Claus,
Spectacles like Buddy Holly
And the scent of the deepest dumpsters,
Scattering my fellow cockroaches
With every step,

He carried his beard
Like a lot of broken wings.
With one black sneaker on foot
And, due to lacerations,
The other in palm,
He positioned himself
Inside the train by the exit

And then he revealed himself.
A curled lip or two.

For one moment
I couldn't be so self absorbed
For his ebullience shone brightest in my pen.
His warped grin was uncontrollable.
I've never seen someone
Bask in the magestry of people
With a smirk

And he was shameless.
His love dripped
In blazes of silver streaks.
Anyone would fall into tears.

Something has pierced
The ice.
Suddenly, I can feel
My fingertips.
Suddenly, I can
Hear the bells.
Suddenly the stale souls
who gaze into glass
move rapidly,
Suddenly there is no
and every reason to cry
for his tears fall softly
forming rainbows on his cheeks.
Smiles, Cries, Over-Joyous.
Look at what we've done.

He stepped onto the sidewalk,
And I was frozen.

How I wish I could have
Sat with him and
Maneuvered that train
Into the Atlantic,
Sharing
Laughter, fear,
And the wonder of a stratosphere
Of children.

May not have caught his eye,
But I was the only one
Who saw him this evening.
My heart is left
In shards of crystal.
He was simply
The most beautiful thing
I've ever seen.

Here's to my little half-life stars.

Here's to the sidekicks.
Here's to that chick
That holds bricks
In her chest because
The gem that once was
Is now cracked.

If her eyes had laser beams,
She would burn holes in
The back of his cranium.
But no matter how hard she tries,
He'll never turn around.

Her hurt is thick like syrup

viscous and difficult to find

She's digging through
Crates of blank stares
all she wants is a word

one word, hello. 

Here's to the one who will make you wanna cry
When she tries to smile.
To the girl who spoke with people
In high places.
Here's to that one who would SO rather
Be "Her" than "Her Friend".
Here's to those ones made of diamonds and silver
Covered by sand and cloth.
Here's to the invisibles
The resistibles,
The forgettables
And the regrettables.

I see you,
And if I could I would kiss
Each and every one of you
On the forehead like a mother.

But I'm not calling out to God for you,
Because if there is a God,
Then this universe is a spitball,
And the remnants are starting to congeal.

I Gotta Be Me.

Nevada Dusk in the desert,
It's raining pyrite
and I don't have an umbrella.

Yet, I'm smiling like you wanted.
It stings a little, but
I'm more concerned with
Making sense of these
broken paths.

Bonfires with bright red-orange
Shadows, brown and yellow
Sillouhettes, They're all
dancing to something.
I don't know what yet, but
I'm still bobbing my head.

Feeling the blues tonight,
So bring on that upright,
This grin aches like
A thousand missed turns.
There's a stain on my shirt pocket
and like my man said,
"It's going to take a little more
than vodka to get it off."

None of y'all look like you used to,
a little blurry around the edges.
I can deal with that,
I just wish I could
Navigate these
fucked up
dead end
dirt paths.

But it's not that easy.
Is it.

Happy Mess.

Speaking of reminiscing,
I've been walking through tornadoes
for quite some time now.
Blinders on, playing the pilot
but really I'm so fucking close to
losing my grip on that wing.

You wouldn't believe it now,
But I once owned a glass dove,
Humble in presence and stature.
I threw it as hard as I could
Just to see what would happen
when she hit the ground.

The most thrilling moments
Were in the final millimeters that
Separated the glass
From the warped concrete.
You could almost see it flatten
Like a raindrop,
Consumed.

She shattered.
Shards must of have caught my chest,
For I began to break down.
Shocked, I fell to my knees,
Glass streaming from eyes,
Slain by that silly little bird.

As I laid on my back,
burning with regret,
a beautiful red dove,
elegant and proud,
perched herself on my chin.
She whispered second-hand
motivation and apathetic
love themes into my neck, and
that was the closest I ever came
to being happy.

Please Excuse Me.

I have been staring at the pale green wall before me
For 2 hours and 36 minutes
Because I just don't have an answer for her.

I pictured her tall and with a shade of orange
Etched into her eyes.
She would pick me up from school
And take me out for lunch
Right after 3rd grade english.

I could tell her my real favorite colors
And what makes me really smile.
She could help me,
Give me an answer,
Remove the bricks.
She could make sense.

It is as it wasn't
And this bike only goes one way.

So I keep staring at the disfigured wall,
Unable to write a word
That could break it.