Who Cares?
It’s not the end
of the decade
Just another year
piled on top of the rest
As usual, I list
my accomplishments
The book nobody bought
The band that’s not a band
The dog who recovered
66 shows
68 new poems
Most of my time
has been wasted
or spent
But still,
I set goals
Who cares?
Why bother?
Questions
make good tattoos
and little sense
Today,
I will write a poem
Who cares?
Today,
I will exercise
Why bother?
Tomorrow,
I will save money
for new tattoos.
____________
That’s Where You Are
I’m never where I am
Look at your feet
they used to say
That’s where you are
Blue snakeskin
Silver Bowie
Leopard suede
Black on black
I am unattached
unraveling
quietly
under hot December
sun
and frigid July
I look at my feet
and there is nowhere
we can go
Blue snakeskin
melting
Silver Bowie
running
Leopard Black
on black
And all of us
Waiting
Never where we are
Look at your feet.
____________
In the Roses
The junkyard garden is filled
with broken bedsprings
and beer cans
Red roses struggle to survive
My words vibrate
and help them grow
At night I sit
in the junkyard garden
beneath the rusting
fire escape
Run my fingers
over thorns
They feel like
the sound
of your voice
rasping obscenities
into the pillow
I cut a rose
and placed it
in a crystal vase,
the only thing
my aunt left me
The cat
knocked it over,
crystals filling
the wooden floor
My rose now sits
in a whiskey bottle
and flourishes despite
my words
and your obscenities
It stays around
longer
than you do.
deuce coupe 