One Thousand Six Hundred Something

FUCK
And I didn't plan on this
At all
NO
Sorry, I planned on not 
Existing

Helplessly lured by my 
Typing fingers 
I rescued a wandering world
Binge-thinking
Guns under pillows
And life still and meditating

Nonsense prevailed and
Drove North with creativity
On-wards, men 
We cannot rest
After so much sleeping

My Socks Are Wet

And I thought it was the opposite
Of dropping bombs
Elegant cascades of nothing
Overused magic tricks slighting
My eyes in your direction

Standing against you
Back to the rain
Neck dripping white petals 
Of Lucifer's tears 

I ask
Do you know why 
My socks are wet?

You knew it was all 
Fine and dandy 
That I would do anything 
If you had looked through my windows
Once more

I Guess You Could Call Me Lucky

I will not walk the streets

Handing out flyers

To strangers 

To make quite sure they know 

I once loved you

If I am anything but

Tired

I am awake at all hours

To shoo away the flies

Buzzing at my brain

I deny my body what it is 

Made of

And I sometimes piss blood

In honor of your leaving

That is no reason to

Remember my time

Cutting to pieces the tools

That used to 

In search of reconciliation 

With our affections 

To have known even a little existence

As we laid over my bed sheets 

And never under

I guess you could call me lucky

But I prefer to call it

Abuse

By the Time I Found You

Two dogs on a porch
Talking nonsense 
Animal sounds and infusions 
Of lustful wondering 

I turned red and then 
I turned to you

The graceful day of sitting
Lost of grace 
Demeaning 
All the same we stood
Sitting

Days and hours passed
Between a few places here and there
Mostly nowhere-
Oblivion

The dogs were fed
They came around every other day
So I could wash my hardened 
Book cover
Without growing rust over 
Their many lost paths

But the rain grew stale
Buckets in a row stacked-
Filled
The catch of it was not me

The graceful day of sitting
Came to us wrapped in blue
Only two months after ordering 
Paying extra for express
Shipping  

The dogs stayed away in fear 
Of fleas or perhaps
It was the medicine they gave 
Me

We held still long enough
To nearly not move
Smoking the flavor of watermelon 
Out of a water dispenser
Two dogs without owners

I turned red then 
I turned to you

We breathed mouth to mouth
Together
No life rejected

And I thought to myself
When we are young and 
Gray
This will be a lovely story to tell 
No one 

Retrogressing-
And I, your youthful fountain
With eyes wide open
Glassed over
By the time I found you