Smile

yeah,

i’ve got a jaw

and my teeth

are tearing

through the cheeks

 

what

can you do?

 

the insides

always

have outsides

 

the

consequences

have

actions

 

my pores

have

a scent

 

that person

has a mother

 

this shoe

has a size

and

earth has

an economy.

 

but really,

 

if you

aren’t the stars,

you’re deluded–

 

take a good look.

 

 

Without A Belt

we make death

a dishonorable thing.

something

you ought to be

ashamed

about.

something

like nudity.

like pain

or homelessness.

like words

that came out wrong

or pants

that don’t fit

or a sneeze you couldn’t

to hold.

 

“bless you”

they say,

for keeping up the lie

 

that restraint beats death,

that you ought to

control

yourself endlessly.

 

most go out

without ever letting go

to live.

letting go

to humor.

to humility.

 

see,

the world stands

because

it’s always falling.

 

drop your pants

once in a while.

 

 

 

The Long Short Story

that space

we’re all sitting

in

when loneliness

begs to question-

 

some of us are

in cars,

some are

in homes,

some are flying

cardboard signs,

 

and

some keep it away

through substance,

or through sex,

or never feeling at all.

 

the story

never becomes

reality,

yet we

cannot stop

telling ourselves.

Hierarchy of Everything

sweat mark

on the chair

from a hot day

and thin shorts.

two girls

riding bikes

with all the right

thigh

and ass

to keep the dream

alive.

Wall Street trades

and

chimps

tear apart

monkeys

politics

expressing

nature’s

spite.

the dream is real

only,

there’s nowhere

to keep it.

the game is in

over-time

with no sign

of stopping

an unknown price

has not

been paid

and here i’m

looking

at another page

trying to let

my mark

soak through.