Ghoulish Nostalgia

Blue screen
behind a snowy blur
          Blizzard outside
        cold silence in here.
Forgot
the weight of syllables
          On channel 2,
  I'm disconnected and numb.

               With all the eloquence
               of a bitter, frozen smile,
          Let me draw a map
                          with mismatched memories
               With all the subtlety
             of a fumbled operation.
          Let me trace the tale
                     down unstitched avenues.

This year
I'll try for something like real feeling.
Ghoulish nostalgia's only eating me alive.
And if I could only take my lumps and leave 'em...

...leave 'em far behind,
I might start moving on.
               Onto something
                       current,
               something warmer
                 that's enduring.

Let me try to trace my tale
down these unstitched avenues.

And I'll get back to you.

Dumb & Dumber Luck

You were leaving
     with the first of the Springtime thaw.
I glued my feet and
     now I'm stuck and you know that's all
               we ever found
          we knew how to do--
was just say fake "goodbyes,"
practice "I'll miss you's!"

We can sleep through our dreams
or die standing up
on the paths of same footprints'
           same old sidewalks.
But the equinox came and you went nowhere
                        quick.
Sick of saying, "It's fine here..."
                        Think
                    I'm just sick
'cuz the healthiest ones hated us
       and now they're all gone...

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

I was leaving
     we both knew that I wouldn't get far
before retreating
     to you and to this asphalt
               I've always walked.
               We always knew how
to just fake fake "You're fine's."
Swallow fermented growls.

We'll just sleep through these dreams
of packing our stuff.
Write our hopes on punched tickets--
           can't afford the bus.
When the equinox comes and we're still here--No
                              shit?--
We'll be convinced it's good here.
                         Think
                  we're just sick.
'Cuz the healthiest ones hated us
        and now they're all gone...

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

Stick together, squeeze the time in
with the snow falling down.
Do what we'd never get away with
when the Summer comes around,
       When the cops patrol the streets
              that the city won't plow

               ...I guess that's just luck.
                           Dumb luck.

Two Zero One Six

Got 2 fingers for this night
2 bloodshot eyes on the town's small size.
I'll take this walk on shaky toes,
take 1 more bottle for the icy road.

3 years, 3 months and countless ghosts,
some angry friends, a long walk home.
     I stumble down Wyoming Street
   and ball 2 fists inside my coat.

                      Stunted
I tripped while running in place,
bit my tongue and cut my nose up--
    fucked my pretty, spiteful face.
                   And I'm just
                       punting
and slurring while I beg for pardons.
Forgive my weak and sour heart--
                  didn't mean it
when I said "Goodbye and fuck this place."

I'm a werewolf on nights like these--
popping joints and twisting knees,
yellow eyes and dagger teeth;
full moon makes my lungs freeze.

When memories claim my mind,
can't see through greyscaled eyes.
Sorry to waste your time
          but I seem to have misplaced mine.

Hundred questions for myself.
Emptied 15, placed them on my shelf.
0 answers inside each 1.
Shapeshifter's sorry that I killed your fun.

3 years, 3 months. 1 long walk home.
I gambled with these dicey ghosts.
I spilled some drinks and said some things.
Grab my coat and hope you can forgive me.

                      Stunted
I zipped my leaking lips up.
Bit my tongue -- I'd made no progress
     Hung my petty, spiteful face.
                  And I'm just
                      punting,
but could you forget my infractions?
                 didn't mean it
when I said, "Goodbye and fuck this place."

I'm a werewolf on nights like these--
Claws bared and licking teeth.
So, please just don't mind me
as I walk out on unsure feet.

Sorry to waste your time,
but I seem to have misplaced mine.

Placebos Rebranded

I've been a feature here for four years now.
You're an armchair or a doormat
Once you've been around
awhile.

I wanted fresh breath and a brand new face.
Maybe a companion just to
take up space beside
my side.

But the "EXIT" light was on too long.
"Eventually, they heed it or they just become
fading notes in a song
that we forgot we sung."

Or at least that's what you told me...

Or at least that's what I'll write here...

And what about you...?

It's a tangling grid of street names I
     keep
tangled on my tongue
3 inches under my eyes
     (They ask directions).

An end result of a series of
     hasty,
maybe-good decisions
I made 4 years ago.
     (Seek validation).

And what about you...?

There's a comfort here we can't escape,
take two for granted
and call to cancel coffee dates.

There's an ease that breeds friendships like ours,
Convenient and seasonal;
Friendships that really aren't.

"Rose Park" names our neighborhood
A few blocks slant, we prob'ly shouldn't
talk today...
Similar coordinates
A useless map. Mistake by any
other name...

Second chances, we won't get them.
And I guess we don't deserve them.

The State's an acci-
     dental sigh.
The town's a too-comfortable lie.
And you, I guess
are just another neighbor of mine.

Waning Gibbous

The night will corrode
Our smiles will erode.
It's been a long time coming down the track I s'pose.
The weather's finally warming
but I'm cold, ya know.
          And I know--
     the season's gonna change.

So peel back
          the streetlit sky of a Sunday night.
Reveals black.
          One empty gut, one clouded mind.
Got a fistful of pocket lining says I'm right.
Wrong way. Left turn. I'll be alright
          without you.
     I know my way home.

One talk at a time,
I finally know.
Out of words. Out of time. A frown growing slow.
The temperatures are turning,
turn my back and go
          'cuz I know
     that you already have.

I've always known
I would walk out alone.
Had to come out swinging for the quick K.O.
I hate the fucking heat;
you're sick of the snow.
          And you know--
     My reasons. Your excuse.

So peel back
          the bullshit smiles of a Winter night.
Reveals black.
          Your toothless mouth, this empty fight.
Got a fistful of pocket lining, walk all night.
Wrong way. Left turn. I guess I was right
          about you.
     I know my way home.

          Without you
     I know my way home.
          Without you.

The Amazing Human Bouey

Rushing.
Crashing.
Ocean fills my ears.
I'm stranded out here bobbin' with these others
after way too many beers.
Our ship started sinking
after parted ways and too much thinking.
We're all way too salty now
and all too soaked to swim to safety.

I've got
a notion, friend, to lay some blame
drop a few names, retreat again...
You are
a battleship, your big guns blaze
afloat on rage, bristling ardor.
      I'll calm you down, so dry me out
      or sink me now. We've spent enough
      on life.

Coughing.
Laughing.
Protests fill our ears.
It's frigid out here. Walking off these shudders
past the closing bars and jeers.
Boarded. Started singing
all our anthem cries from here to Longstaff.
"Land, Ho!" we cry sarcastically.
We're still too soaked to swim to safety.

We've got
some way to walk, cover some ground.
pass a few blocks, we're lost & found.
The night
had shrunken down, contracted fast.
dark purple sky is bristling hoarfrost.
     We've warmed us up, so pull me out
      or sink me now. We've spent enough
      on life.

Red Eye

Rub these eyes.
What a misspent night.
I cast one die, tumbled through to light
               aimed away from
               where I left you
on a corner, towards a bender.
               ...You know...
Hung my hat
on these stupid hopes,
tried to steer us two on an icy road.
               Slid through stop signs,
               you stopped speaking.
Anyway, I'm flying out tomorrow.

Tired as Hell
switch planes in Minneapolis
On the way from Richmond to Montana
This far North,
     the snow is never far away.
               Last one through
                       the gate
               and still sleeping.

Slug this Fall
down in airport bars.
A Wintery move, but I got disarmed.
               so I aim to
         where I came from
Gift myself with what's familiar
               ...You know...
Out here there's
not a lot of noise.
A few pinned dots between the bullet points.
               Here it gets cold,
               just a few miles
from the real Continental Divide.

Heavy coats
and fortified spirits
keep us warm between our vacations.
This far North
     no Saints to preserve us.
               Not much
                between
          here and Seattle.