Archive | May, 2015

Ft Vending Machine (Collar 4)

26 May



Ft Vending Machine


Collar 4:


There’s No Moving On


Yo Salieri,

maybe history did you wrong

or maybe you were an almost

Oscar winning prick


either way


History has always been mortal

just like the rest of us


we’re all corpses at some point

placed randomly or somewhat randomly

on the dartboard of a strip mall buffet table

on a sunny Sunday afternoon


They love: all you can eat macaroni

and pub tips


and we’ll love to play darts

when you love me

we’ll love to play darts


so don’t sweat it

ya sweaty tombstone

don’t sweat it


even though

everything’s always sweaty


everything’s always

the perfect hat that doesn’t fit me


everything’s missed field goals

followed by the possibility of touchdowns


followed by the fact that I was

goddamn certain I’d asked

Word’s Auto Correct to stop

fucking auto-correcting



but it refuses to obey orders

just like reality


just like that first time

I saw her

and how I unsuccessfully tried like hell

not to saw her


because I knew she could be

the end

of me


and for a long time she was


and always will be


but fuck,

you either lay down

or you spend the entire weekend

watching The Six Million Dollar Man Season 4

in a not-quite laying down/haven’t-given-up-yet-

only-semi-laid-down-like position


and as you know

I sometimes hate to lay down

and Season 4 of The Six Million Dollar Man

if beautiful!



you know,

no choice!


when every second

is choosing


I choose the latter


if by latter I mean beauty


I choose beauty

over Vaseline


wounded humanity

over total robotics


Instead of the steak

I choose the cow


So let us throw their goddamn

laser rifles

to the ground




grab yr great dress

and follow me

down the hallway

past the locked doors

behind which


the politically savvy

sleep the dead sleep

of cheap tippers


and I will build you a fort

out of available vending machines

behind which


barricaded between

entombed Snickers bars


we can

make out




(part 4 of a four collared poem)


my winter coat

23 May


my winter coat


I take you with me these days


regardless of weather

or movie screens


the various showtimes

of distance



the world is a cold place without comfort

complete with meticulous penguins


icebergs that pick on their own feet

with broad daylight


that’s why I keep your pockets

in my pockets

and smile as they become


between our pockets

and I don’t feel

so alone




(an old poem found in a forgotten red folder found in a desk the other day that’d been forgotten too)


in the forest that was a forest but is now a paved out lot in which they film car commercials

22 May

Row of cars


in the forest that was a forest but is now a paved out lot in which they film car commercials


in the forest that was a forest but is now

a paved out lot in which they film car commercials


the squirrels of what we once were together

stand around idling

because they can’t get a car loan

because all their credit’s been shot


and taxidermy’d

and then sloppily mounted

on the wall


in some big fuck’s office

who’s farts smell like sunscreen

when he’s lying


and he’s always lying

with his mouth, lying

while his ass drones on

about the hazardous effects

of the sun


and then eventually

he walks out

into actual sunlight


to film another goddamn car commercial


in a paved out lot

that used to be a forest


where cement falls in love

with piles of that grey shit

that gets scratched off unlucky

lottery tickets


and all the squirrels


their bus

Love’s Fondness For Yellow

18 May


Love’s Fondness For Yellow


I grew up in a yellow house

in the middle of a cornfield

refusing to listen to Big Bird

and being unable to use the word

‘jaundice’ convincingly

in a sentence

so it makes sense

you sexy sentence

that your hair

haunted by blondness

should remind me of

the barns

in which I once roamed………….

you are the yellow

and love has a fondness

for yellow

and in this case scenario

I am The Love!

some of the best things share your color

Captain Kirk’s uniform

The Comedian’s smiley faced

blood splattered button

The Fracking Sun!

yellow contains taught powers

yellow designs its own oxygen

yellow survives its dead stars

Mayakovsky’s shirt was fucking yellow!

like the curtains in this little

basement apartment

yellow is the color of fire

burning in a little possessed girl’s eyes

in a poster that hangs

above the toilet

[bit about urine being also yellow deleted

by early 1900’s Russian censors]

my love for you is yellow!

and love is yellow!

and I love you

like yellow!

with all yr tattoos

You’re my favorite album

and fondest memories

from those dark days

after the color had left me

if you ever left Chris Martin

Chris Martin would write a

song about your leaving

and I will sing that song to you

on your birthday

because it’s about goddamn time

for Chris Martin

to get over this shit

and move on

(pt 3 of an unpublished 4 part poem called Ft Vending Machine)