life
alone in the woods
forest of isolation
walking in circles
drinking
mandarin water
goes down easily tonight
but may come back up
i wrote a story
i wrote a story
i hated it hated it hated it
i buried it in the backyard
while my parents were asleep
while my aunt and uncle were fighting
while my cousin was doing cocaine
we hadn’t seen him in a fortnight
i was drawing a tree and a cloud
and a house
and a squirrel eating some corn
and i wrote a story
a beautiful story about a place
a place far away from here
where everyone loved me
cameras flashing, look over here! look over here!
and everyone wanted to be my friend
and there was never any question
of what i should do
except whatever it was
i felt like doing
everyone knew
i was a success
and i was somebody
but today, i’m still nobody
one time, i wrote a story
and i buried it in the backyard
sugar and spice
on the big rock candy mountain
all the children have cavities
and all the men cry out in agony,
“won’t some one save us?
please god, spare us this pain!
take me away from this hideous mountain!
the sugar, the sweetness, I can’t stand it anymore!
I’m ready to go!”
but no one ever comes
they suffer silently
on big rock candy
mountain
for eternity
nerds
one hundred thousand
voices cry, then are silenced-
snape kills dumbledore
to John Locke
destined for greatness
destroyed, incomplete, he lost
mourn him, he is us
eight
silent country road
noisy downtown late night traffic
silent bedroom walls
seven
hot dog water smells
light breeze in a hotel room
wordless trip back home
six
grass dies, insects pass
humanity disappears
water keeps dripping
waves in silent sky
words unspoken, intertwined
this love, too, shall pass
baseline performance
wish I could just stay in bed
but they refuse it
alone here, all day
did not bother to leave here
best day of the week
five
there is some really
hot peanut butter in the
kitchen sink today
it grew as peanuts
slowly, avoided being
eaten, until grown
picked and selected
for my peanut butter jar
and I wasted it
