Monday, March 19, 2012



fill out
the rest

she said
i know what
i like

and what
true love
looks like

you in
the kitchen
with a baby


Thursday, March 8, 2012

drinkin' turpentine

drinkin’ mason jars
of turpentine never thinking
of this as a trade or a
means of living, breathing
easy. daily i begin again
only to end again wonder-
ing if anything is worth

please drink the jar empty
i would do it again
if i were able to.
it doesn’t taste too strong
the finish is quick and
the pain self evident.

i’ve spent, and
it’s been a while
that we’ve been waiting,
counting the accumulation.
it almost killed me once—
i tell you it almost did—
but it didn’t
and that’s the difference

allows for a tiredness,
for a happiness.

Friday, March 2, 2012

Lackawanna is weird

it begins with
and ends in
the process
of creating something real

it is not blood
or sweat

            but rust mixed
            with cigarettes

enter through gate eight
leave a different date

Lackawanna is weird
            they say
no just go ahead
come out with it
we’re poor
not weird

what is money any way?
            we get by
each day

between the rail
and the train
            we live
each day

when we ride
bored                         aboard
silent                         short
nights                        no need
for many words
            look outside
            space and time
            side by side
            passing by

more than the now
more than the cold
more than the snow
                                                          comfort in the know