Saturday, January 30, 2010

yeah let's get fucked up
and go for a drive
we're so young
and only a little corrupted
how many nights have i
avoided drunk drivers by chance
yeah let's get fucked up tonight
and drive your car up the road

Thursday, January 28, 2010

and all those pretty songs
with all those pretty words
and all their pretty meanings
that got thrown into me
are now rotting in me
because i am a landfill
and i am compost
piled hot and wet on the ground

Sunday, January 24, 2010


you fall asleep on your floor
and i am lying on the couch where every major
sexual experience of my life has taken place
and i wonder if thats what you think of when
we go to the basement to watch television shows
not that everything we are has to be sexual
because right now i dont want you i just want to talk
about every little problem in our lives
and make ironic racist jokes and talk about Cunt
and laugh about your family and all the customers we deal with
and all the songs we listen to and why we love them
and i'll get jealous of how much you love yoni
and feel a little like you've stolen something precious to me
but i won't say anything because who else could i talk to
so i would just smile and laugh and feel self conscious about my eyes
but you are asleep on the floor
so i grab my keys and phone and leave
your cat is at the door
i wonder if you think anything different of me because she likes me
i really hope so but maybe thats artificial
so i head home
the roads are wet and gleaming
and minneapolis is drowned in fog
and when i get home all i can do is text sydney
and play around with the words of how terrified with her i am
and my other friends want to go to uptown
and sydney is the only one i could make a joke with about that
that really disguises how upset i can be with everyone
and whitney is the only one i can tell about that
and rich is the only one i can tell about that
and he is with cassie for every weekend now
and i work all week
i wish my grandfather were here

Saturday, January 16, 2010

i finish my poems on every dirt stained
cracked wall spreading out in the
city in all directions
with thick white tongued brushes
or slender splintering chalk
fingernails dug deep into crumbling complexions
lit up by street lamps or passing drunk drivers
hummed by the drone of traffic
and sung by every passing pedestrian
a choir in round pounding
loud sound in the town
a choir in round pounding
loud sound in the town

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

how to handle anxiety during minnesota winters

on the salt stained highway
hard crusted snow slips off the backs of semis
a violent splash and spin
little crystals splatter in the wind
let it bring a little smile to your cracked lips
see every driver rest heavy on the brakes
cautious for the ice
cautious for the light
is fading faster than a week ago
and fading faster than a century ago
turn up the radio
let the noise carry you home
white rhythms on the road hypnotize
your fingers lose their warmth on the wheel now
no longer finding her thigh
or the firm muscle on the back of her neck
miss your exit
drive to somewhere foreign in the dark
and nervously flick on your lights
be blinded by the semis around you
and the fog that clings to the inside of your windshield
a memory's warm vapor haunts your backseat
until you can't even see anymore
turn around when you find an entrance
the gas is waning
watch your headlights lose their power as you enter the city again
drowned out by the powerful streetlamps
that glow heavy and large in your dirty windshield
dried salt kicked up from the highways rivulets
pull on to the one way frontage road that never gets plowed
feel the tires slide into grooves left by larger vehicles
lose control on the ice on the turn
into a quiet apartment
where you go to sleep alone
and the trains ramble by every hour
sending vibrations into your dreams
of course not with fingers so dumb
of course not with a tongue so dumb
could i ever make you come
and i know it is probably
what will keep us apart

Saturday, January 9, 2010


the last two times that we've had sex i have failed
when you pressed my slender wrists down
back against your cool metal head board
and slide so meaningfully onto me
and in that moment i felt everything sexual and meaningful we were
and i was overcome
and i came too soon and was
and then you were on the phone with your ex
and i was

and now we find each other with candles around us
and wine and vodka and tequila
i hope you weren't bracing yourself for the inevitable
was it a protective thing?
did i push you into drinking more and more?
i know i kissed you first
and i know i looked at you with a sexual hunger first
why can't i see anything less? or is it more?
and then we're in your bed
you're asking me such sobering things
"what happens in the morning"
"what about him?"
and i honestly don't remember what i answer
but i make it sound good
and i give you head
and i dont make you come
and i finger you and rub your clit
and i dont make you come
and i slide inside of you
and i dont make you come
and you make me come
and i am limp
and i fall asleep in your bed
as you vomit uncontrollably in your mother's room
and i wake up alone