twenty little poems

1

sitting here at the diner counter

nothing but clouds outside

sleepy faces drinking coffee inside

coffee pot from table to table

someone asking for the check

another pulling out a flask

and pouring about a third into their coffee

some read the daily newspaper

still most of the others chat & chat & chat

the speakers play a sad old country tune

cheer up young man, it could be worse

i walk up to the man with the flask

try to be jus the least bit social

plus i could really use a shot

i slide a buck his way

ask if there’s any chance

i could get a little in my coffee

he smiles, pulls out the flask

pouring a healthy enough pour in my cup

thanks a lot, pretty down bad right now

this should help a bit

a little goes a long way, he says

both of us smiled, yea

i drained the coffee in one sip

the warmth, the soothing warmth

thanks again, i said

as i placed a 10 in the checkbook

i grabbed my jacket & headed out the door

lit up a smoke on an overcast Autumn morning

not much to do but smoke

went to the bus stop & lit up one more

the day had jus begun & i was jus getting by

going through the motions the way i always do

2

bleak grey underground

nature offering reprieve

grief over this old thing years ago

cigarettes a way to politely resign

never considered myself much of anything

i’ll write till i’m dead… write after i die too

this can’t be the end… not even close

ghost dwells adjacent to the lonesome grave

old man doesn’t like people walking on his lawn

the music died… jus the sound of the typewriter

visions of the afterlife… read a book… anything

what’s there to do… really?

sweet & low & bitter coffee

life really is a colder version of Hell

3

i lose everything

self sabotage

girls make me sad

broken hearted girls breaking hearts

the whole thing makes me sad

hard to find humor in the little things

dead inside, numb inside, crying inside

lonesome little wanders past a brick wall

energy vampires everywhere

seeking to drain us

float, float, float

i don’t want to die

so i count my blessings, smoke a cig

and fade away into the night

velvet underground & white light

but it’s jus the light on my dresser

with a lighter & brand new pack of smokes

to face the day

4

grey winter

apocalypse dawn

two lips

like swans in a pond

what’s the point to the extravagance

find luxury within necessity

grace in the existence of a stem

strum the chord, a little feminine in nature

don’t mind when she speaks in tongues

i jus fall asleep soundly

to the beating of a mellow drum

5

her designer boots

dope hoodie she stole off her boyfriend

mini skirt she wears

so they stare at her legs

the boyfriend doesn’t care too much

neither do i, i really could care less

not that i don’t notice

i jus never let that sort of thing

have an effect on me for too long

they’re a cool couple… some of the good ones

seems like girls are purely entertainment

but they’re the whole reason we even exist

swaying to the rhythm

she never cared about other’s affection

the mischievous glances as she walked by

she welcomed everyone into her world

the boyfriend was nonchalant, calm & collected

nobody could take her away from him

because he loved her enough to let her go

the moment he met her

maybe not actually let her go

but he knew he’d love her

no matter what she did or where she went

things turned out alright

eventually she went her way

& he went his

but things turned out alright

his heart had been broken for years

so had hers

they both jus hid it well

smoking one last cigarette together

before parting ways

6

my art is often misunderstood

music & writings about death & awakening

passing the time one thing at a time

God & family above all else

He sees the divinity in us

My mom sees the divinity in me

I jus got to channel the divine

Blessed ethereal angelic enlightenment

Find fine tuned clarity, dress in the best

we think too much

the trick is to not think so much

process thoughts & move on

move along like i know you to

7

friendly convos exchanged freely

cashier didn’t want to hear it

they had a long day, longer life

stifling, trifling, sipping coffee

hibernating inside heat

decompressing in the rugged cold

she had tapestries & Peruvian rugs all over

Colombian coffee & Arabian smokes

the lucky strikes will hold me over

at least a few hours, moments within bliss

light chit chat, light up a smoke

forgive & forget this & that

comfort is found in the intricacies & nuances

8

Romeo & Juliet… Cobain & Courtney

Some things go out with a bang

Dang, she sang a tune that pleased her Lord

Guess if it’s all the same, i can’t go on

Without a hit of something real

In my feelings every single day

She been making me feel like a stray puppy

Kiss so icy on my snowed-in frozen cheek

Warmth on cold, like dry ice

Hang me up to dry

They said my writings are trash

i’m fine with that

jus a disaster artist who will keep creating

time stands still

90s teens watching the Simpsons

please don’t ever choke me again

smoke a cigarette

get one off & laugh at this life thing

9

unique, habitual pleasantries

the ritual of monotonous routine

find a book & album you like

dive all the way in the deep end

depends on mood, depends on the day

sitting here fading away

a new day to face & waste away

wading way deep into the deep end

these are the moments we hold onto

the times life feels like a little miracle

10

soon we’ll discuss worldly affairs

but first… coffee

the stillness yet commotion

a ride on the train would surely help

clear my head

anything to clear my head

i find a nook on the side of the road

seeking minimal shelter

the books line the shelves

so many people overburdened by thoughts

let me tell you one thing…

meditate on eventual death

the rest is jus a perk to the whole thing

11

maybe the key is in forfeiting

smoke a cigarette & give up

we were never really going far anyways

12

sad faces seeking transcendence

wake me up when the sun strikes

shivers in morning cold

we could never be perfect

accept where you are in the moment

life is…

the music we listen to

our outfit & appearance

the thoughts running in our head

our most recent smoke

and the coffee held in our hands

13

so cold in the hood

ask the brothas, like what’s good

believe half of what you see

none of what you hear

what’s the point of flexing

i jus need a smoke

owl perched in camo white

bright day… future too bright

minimalist minimalism

great work today… at least you showed up

ignorance will always be bliss

apathy to all except money & necessities

the news is really saying nothing

they died going down the drug route

i’m getting another drip coffee

Thanks God for today

miserable at best

two shots in the dark

anorak jacket

racks on the girl, pocket change in her jeans

look around, a whole lot of nothing

so make the most of it

14

ugly duckling

even the ugly duckling was cute

quiet in the classroom please

the point is mute

15

sometimes we jus need a place

to write, smoke, sip & listen to music

16

down past gang hot spots

ghetto suburbia

7 eleven & gas stations & liquor stores

there’s a comfort in loitering smoking

my work is never finished

smoke reefer spliff

lifted from ash to ash

die under pale moonlight

sir you’ll never read those books

once in a blue moon

you’ll never listen to those records

once in a blue moon

shuffling the music, writing anything

this is a far cry from war time

17

you sit in an amber snow field

the words we could never say

stray puppy looking for a home

fog sets in ample doses above the hill

i pull up like i’m Kanye

what could i ever say

baggy hoodie, baggy pants

all to your dismay

i was never one to impress anyone

dressed like i’m headed to my funeral

the secret remains in the utter apathy

i died many moons ago

and you go on talking about the weather

18

cultivating something elaborate

ignites via simplicity

the joke: i’m dead & i have nothing to show for it

less has always been more

i could read the morning headlines

but the only things are glory & tragedy

life is the much needed smoke break from work

life is the pure abandonment of solitude

life is getting lost in the music, lost in a book

at the end of the day: fuck ‘em

they don’t know what they’re doing

any more than i know what i’m doing

music on an infinite loop

did i tell you i’m already dead

there’s nothing to know, nothing to do

GIVE UP I BEG YOU

my life is going nowhere & i love you

i love life, but i promise it’s so pointless

she took a point of MDMA at the festival

music, the vibes, music, the vibes

trust me… i gave up

time to cultivate the come up

19

i lean in to tell her it’s not really important

there are more pressing issues at hand

like making & saving money

i jus smoke my money away

writing & music are the only pieces of art

i have any time for

it would seem to all be pointless

writing jus to pass the time

doing everything jus to pass the time

trickling water off the brazen stone

the home empty in the backwoods

so little to life besides pent up energy

release release release… find release

to relief relief relief… seek relief

you weren’t meant to be stuck in a box

rid yourself of vanity & ego

hot tea in the nick of time

holding on to nickels & dimes

20

you were always the realest, the coolest

Marlboro pack & a game of pool

relax, nobody & nothing’s going anywhere

my poetry is for the 21st century

i wish i still had an iPod

you can do too much on iPhones

is it possible they’re too accessible?

any more drugs

& i’ll either be in rehab or a mental hospital

writing is the cheapest form of therapy

take me back to Squaw Mountain, 2016

i need the feeling of ecstasy

i crave the touch of some white girl

life is jus some stupid drawn out death march

hopefully Satan & God take pity on me

you won’t remotely see or hear from me

at least until i come up & have made it

i kinda skate, but i push mongo… whatever

maybe we all have inklings of death

& its sweet release