post paciffic

i sit
my truck is warm
so i don't mind waiting for the train
a friend once said that
"There is a certain romance to trains."
i agree fully
watching the behemoth pass by with predetermined grace
all the rust built up from across the continent
along with the brave one's art
also from across the continent
all here right now
in front of me
me.
me and my warm truck.
just like that train
we are about depart
to travel across borders
bridges and rivers
who no one knows the name of.
i'm leaving soon and i am up for the journey
i hope Lou Ellen is as well.

so this is christmas

sleep?
barely.
i have been awake for a few hours
and my eyes still feel heavy
couldn't this have waited til noon?
i guess not.
the present's wrapping was torn off
like the flesh of animals that we feast upon
this weather is suiting me very well
mostly temperate
i like that

blue xmas

i miss you
like i have gone to war
i long for you
like the desert longs for water
i need you
like the writer needs his pen
i vaguely remember most of the things in my life
except for you

$5.26

the man started to light up his first cigarette of the day
thanks to sleep, his body was deprived of nicotine
and this will feel good
it was one of his few remaining joys.
its about twenty seven degrees Fahrenheit he reckons
his hands were cold
the lighter is colder
he has trouble getting a flame from it
but he gets it and in turn lights his cigarette
the nameless face hands the little yellow lighter over to his lady friend
her luck isn't as good as his
she gives up
they turn towards each other making the ends of their cigarettes kiss
passing on the flame.
windows open
with hopes for the smoke to make its way out
not the cold to make its way in.
goddamnit!
he burnt his finger on his cigarette.

something horrifically vulgar

i find it so hard to care.
apathy.
it is a fucking disease.
and it comes in waves, sometimes strong
sometimes i can fight it
but i dont even give a shit most of the time
i only feel near to anything when someone pisses me off
the old cunt walking in front of me at the grocers
taking her fucking time while taking up the entire aisle
god damnit.
pulling up to a red light next to a cop.
those fucking pigs.
nothing but a bunch of grown up bullies.
whatever.
i have spent my life under the radar
under the machines and systems that are in place
for our protection, for our convenience, for our entertainment.
but this keyboard in front of me is the reason for my disease.
this machine opens up the flood gates
and drowns me with shallow nothings
i cannot concentrate like i used to
i cannot read like i used to
i cannot truly see things like i used to
whatever.
why should i care.

salvation army

its very cold out here
i pull open the door covered with bits of paper
its just as cold in here
i go through the racks of clothing
used and un wanted
like a dumpster baby left in the back alley
perhaps someone will take it inside
and it will be loved in the future
but now it is idly un owned
everyone else here is because they have to
I'm here because i want to
both reasons have the same outcome
does it really matter then?
i give the woman behind the counter the dollar six that is owed
wishing her a merry Christmas
i feel like people appreciate that more that happy holidays
i don't believe in god or in celebrating the birth of Christ
but i do believe in pleasing people when it's easy
whatever. im sure they care.

sunday the 13th

the thoughts came quicker than the reactions
but that's how its always been
ways to say i love you are stuck in my mind
but not a single way to say i need you
I'm not that selfish
but i am that miserable


"i knew this would end this way."
"why is that?"
"things just never work out for me."
"same here."
"well I'm glad we're back to status quo."


i saw that you were looking at me
you thought i didn't see you
i know i was looking down at my feet
but i saw your gaze reflected in a puddle

diamond cut

diamonds only have worth because so few exist
worn down over time

nothing beautiful happens over night
not the whores in the magazines
that isn't beauty
that is taking sex and turning it into an ad
that is perverting reality
that is
cheap

no. beauty takes time.

look at this river along with it's nameless canyon
no its not the grand canyon
but it is grand none the less
a relentless map of floods and droughts etched upon the walls
continuously changing
never the same
but always beautiful
although separate in nature
they are nothing without each other
the waters may flood
the walls may crumble
it's beauty remains defiant

you are a gem.

so it goes

the hawk sees everything
nothing escapes its gaze as it is perched upon its streetlight
this includes seventeen year old Emily as she puts one foot in front of the other
right into the street
and right in front of a speeding SUV
you know.
the kind that rich folk buy to let you know that they're better than you.
the kind that are meant to take on the worst backwoods.
the kind that are mostly just on suburban rodes.
yeah, that kind.
the man and his hound inside of the vehicle were unscathed
the same cannot be said for Emily
her frail body didn't stand a chance.
within minutes
calls are made
the man's lawyer is alerted
the authorities are alerted
the paramedics arrive
she is pronounced dead on the scene.
her family stops by the morgue to identify the body
the body that had once enchanted most every single boy
the body that contained an active mind that was always thinking above and beyond her classmates
a body free of drugs. confirmed by the autopsy.
as plans were being made for the funeral and the wake
people talked
why would she do such a thing?
what was she thinking?
was there someone that had hurt her?
did you do everything as parents to make her feel loved?
was she running with the right crowd?
what made her feel like this was her only option?
did she leave a note at least?
no one could understand.
why. did. she. do. it.
well no one at the funeral was at the scene.
no one saw it.
not even the man behind the wheel as he reached for his dog's chew toy.
only the hawk truly saw what happened.
as he always does.
that day emily was having one of those perfect days
the sun is out
no responsibilities to worry about
just enjoying the day
before crossing the street she had crossed a hundred times before
her luscious hair fell before her eyes
but she kept on walking
walking to her death
taking her last steps
taking her last breath
completely un aware that she wouldnt be able to enjoy the rest of the day
she died.
perfectly happy.
perfectly content.