Posts tagged ‘relationships’

August 18, 2015

gnats in the wine

chewing it over—for what it’s worth;
last night’s me in southeast, and
the now going—nothing if not present,
on along como. proof in breath,
change the set. focus, and
then content with content.
the blinker light orange clicks,
the cracked window let’s cool air in.
if morning is broken, how shall we fix it?
fixating on what’s been given—so gifted.
and that taste in your mouth, and
that frown on your face—those things can be
given away. over 280 at about 30 and
it’s barely 7:40. midday convo mid-moment;
spit-balling my life, just a thought: let’s talk.
then everything will be all right.

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December 23, 2014

Her Morning Alarm

Crickets wake me in the morning,
Even in the middle of white winter.

They chirp and buzz and shake
And vibrate and annoy and call-

Moments later my partner is slapping
Them hard to death, they die direct, -fast.

The next morning they come back to
Life as if nothing has happened at all.

October 3, 2014

Seasonable Clock

Even the morning seems acutely somber
Broad clouded skies hold steady longer
Green leaves thick ripped from their place
Void departed relatives we save nigh space
Juxtapose this deep cutting- chilled contrast
Waiting for summer’s waning neb to fast pass
Vexed by cruel and unrelenting, stiff nature
Fool-heartedly with their lives they wager
On a single day we wish to stay the same
On forcible winds we wish to have changed
Man can live amongst this time and watch,
As he winds the seasonable swift ticking clock.

August 7, 2014

downtown La Crosse, circa 2006.

Buying the Tribune
in the morning
in downtown La Crosse,
velvet touch-

A Coffee,
walk the redbrick sidewalk.

Past the Bodega,
and Chairs,
and last night’s Cigarette Butts,

washing dishes in the back of some restaurant.

Faux-Progressive airs;
Talking a lot, stale-
actions and words; NOTICE: they talk a lot.

Burnt-Out Transcendentalists,
watching drunks, and pre-cancer patients and cars being parked—

Save the day.

Wearing shorts under blue skies.

Call clandestine spies, looking up at the corner apartment window-
wondering what’s inside__
… As she wakes,

long legs lie.

Moving, thinking, that fresh brewery smell, now new adult.

In summer heat- beating down,
The Mississippi River on the breeze—cesspool,

I walked back from where I had come
trying to not feel so numb.

Because I had to walk back.

July 8, 2014

Commuting on Como

Up,
Pedaling through
Como Avenue.

Alongside shared-living apartments
Neon-signs cluttered storefronts.

Following is
the
summer sun,
heat,
and sweat.

7 years ago I was more acquainted
There was so much to forget.

There was sun and snow,
Heartbreak and elation,
Sex and lies, good times;
Things called by other names, situations.

Past trees which grew
Broken glass from bottles drunks threw
Stand lampposts which haven’t moved
These quiet streets, home for rocks, sand, and dust- below shoes.

Maneuvering, wondering if the old neighbors were still alive.

Winter stuck in a basement
Bright light outside
Warm only within
-Hiding eyes behind dingy broken blinds.

Father stopped in around Christmastime
I was with a she who left like the wind.

Found in moments betting on the weather.

Two doves,
A cat,
Empty bottles,
Trash amassed; pieces of me mixed between.

Now I ride by this old familiar place.

Remembering,
Biking,
Thinking,

How did this town get so small?
How did I get so big?

***
She once said: biking is the best way to learn the city; Minneapolis is the biggest small town around.

December 30, 2013

The Artist We Hate

The Luck…

 

American Capital Art Realism, a simple unique optimism:

 

Americans think of money first,

Logic last,

And vanity before that as they perform their act.

 

They want to relax but they are so tense as they travel the tracks here and back…

 

Life Goals:

Find a fuck,

Buy a pack,

Fill a flask,

Count money stacks.

 

(As we keep making trash)

 

Find that others can relate to that.

Buy clothes tight, or get relevant meaningful tats.

 

On to make an impact, or just impact.

 

All for self, this act in fake abstract.

 

The amount of real ARt we lack…

Goddamn, you see what distracts?

 

[They don’t believe their message, so how can we?  Plain Fact.]

 

Forget 5pm, it’s not even noon here…

Bitter, frozen feet on the sidewalk, somehow below the sky crystal clear.

 

To all the geniuses near,

I’ll give you a half-hearted cheers while I drown myself in this beer.

 

I’ve met about a million worth zero…

September 14, 2013

Walking Into the Dark

Facts on facts,

Drats on that.

A pox on your house-

 

Throw down your crest, peel medal from chest, and rest.

 

Living for contrast.

As in remembering not to forget.

 

All that stuff is just memory.

Mime to Jest.

 

 

The useless battle is over.

No more four-leaf clovers.

All there’s left is empty spaces and time for growing old complacent.

 

The day grows colder as the sun fades at your back.

Walking into the dark you realize relief is what you lack.

 

Turning a blind eye on everything which did nothing for you in so many ways.

End of Meaningless days.

End of the fray,

 

On to full.

 

Cupped like a fake heart in a fake hand, thought about in a fake head trying to fake not being jealous as we make fake demands-

 

On your first last date,

And then she ran.

 

What a shame.  There was so much to know.

So much growth to grow.

Don’t ya know?

 

Life takes time to understand.

 

And now who knows?

 

I don’t.

 

Walk on to something new, get a better view.

Life moves fast, so moan and move on.

 

Like they say, don’t look back.

August 18, 2013

Crossing Nevada

We left that city aching in stitches.

 

As we drove-

No place to go.

 

We were together-

That’s all to know.

 

My side hurt, squinted eyes.

The car moved forward into the fading light, only drifting dust followed.

January 26, 2013

Perfect Morning Placement (Still-life Vagrant)

She said (some of this):

 

Passion is where your hands are at.

 

The moment you realize hotels never have quality coffee…

You have one in your hands…

 

The moment you realize the last thing you need is an ice cold beer…

You have one in your hands…

 

Love is in your hands.

 

My girl is back; my dick still works.

My ex says I have only one good quality:  A sense of humor…

 

I say perks.

 

She calls pretty regular

Smiles are not her concern.

 

I say adjunct.

 

I’m still laughing.

It was a joke that we lasted so long, yet nothing is right or wrong.

 

The aftermath is where the real comedy lies.

After that one has to decide.

 

Perfect morning placement.

There are so many different arrangements.

 

Big teeth, big eyes, no lies.

The truth is its good.

 

Staying in 3 different places, in 3 different stages, in 3 different ranges.

Enjoying the Now placement, living like a vagrant.

 

***

 

Train travel babble.

Ride the rails like thoughts, its hard to get lost when there is no destination.

 

***

 

And she asks on some social media site, “Do I know you?”

And I answer, “Probably not.”

August 23, 2012

Sleep Apnea

If you want to see me, come see me-

A lot of people do.

 

Wake up, breakfast; another day in tattered shoes, and food.

Another day to not be rude.

Another day to choose.

 

Choices challenge…

 

My mind rooted to traffic.

Oh, the sights are graphic.

-The detailed movement of people, places, and things.

 

Stop-light…

 

Finding relaxation on idea, dismissing all fear.

 

And life…

 

Life sits on a balance; feast or famine.

Embraced or abandoned.

Picked-up or stranded.

 

We get along…

 

Did you get the cash transfer?

Oh, it doesn’t matter.

Plastered, drunk again, searching for answers to pastures and grandeur; to meeting loved ones in the hereafter.

 

What a life…

 

Yet, I sit with this coffee and this debt.

Breathing easy, calming-exercise to get the weight off my chest.

Half-spent in thought.

 

She says I must have done something bad in my past to wake from my sleep like that.

I tell her nothing.

-Don’t worry.

 

She says, “Yeah, I know you.”

“So why do you sleep with me?”

“It feels safe.”

 

Pink pigment, like piglet.

I detest, not embarrassed, but I rest when she rests without regret.

Hiding stress under her dress.

 

This mess is structured…

 

My eyes take it in.  

 

We just met and she is bent-

While I keep it straight forward.

 

No time to wonder.

As she nears the border.

 

***

 

In a state of stating a statement…

 

I woke to yawn.