lifestyles

Lifestyles I: A Night with the Townies

coffee so strong it could knock my teeth out--
so i can write this
in the cool gray afternoon
that wakes me. I think about

Lifestyles--
perhaps it's better that way.
At least there the choices
don't require thought.

I wouldn't stay long
as you breathe through the curtains of phlegm
across the shiny hardwood of the alley
the clatter of balls down the lane echoes

shivering the bubbling mugs
tuned to "can't we ever get out of here?"
my fingers plug the holes and i roll
into the fetal face of life

here we are in the pouring rain
I clutch the collar to my throat
the way i wish your fingers
would touch my neck

we crowd into the silver
backseats covered in shed doberman
And writhe like an angry snake
across the night-slicked streets

I push back against the seat
into the cold--if only I am there to catch
myself as you text slowly,
your knees pressed into the passenger seat.

we'll hang a while
up the creaky carpeted stairs--
I'm not getting anything interesting
tonight. Only the aftertaste of beer &
comedy central blaring


You cough and they laugh
all having so much fun
fondling the next bud
I cross my arms and study the wheelchair.

Time to go
out of the truck and into the rain
here I am contemplating life
And you're starting over
back to work-- alone again.

Lifestyles II: Burnout

pretty house.
i think it's cute, but
You're only quoting
I think it ended then.

Aren't you a little old for playing
Dad smoked his first joint at 30
guess i can't judge
But i outgrew it in a semester.

Am i ready to go back to serious?
I am the playful--the plaything
i only tell strangers the details
of my sordid life.

I want to call you a stranger
But you're too busy in your house
fogging up your world
And i'm myself again

Lifestyles III: The Good Guy

you speak to me
in unknown languages
and art and poetry--
everything i thought i wanted.

but you are soft,
and i need someone--
or perhaps i need no one
at all.

Thinking grows too hard
for real life teachers and psychologists.
I'd rather watch
as you work your time away.

Your sweet-talk is too contrived,
like the way you remember
the color of the dress I wore
Last summer.

Why couldn't you have kissed me then
before you loved her
before I knew
what he looks like when he smiles.

Lifestyles IV: Marriage

Here are the friends
I've known since we
cooked playdough in the sun
whispering about the future.

Here's the ring
you show me on your chubby finger
Like a silly mannequin
whoring out your hand for monogamy

Here's the day
you could pretend you were still a virgin
and yet no longer a child
with your toes in the sand.

Here are the girls who'd give anything
to have one day
all dressed in white
And here I'd give everything, to not.

Here they say: You'll want to
In a few years
but i feel fat and bloated with disgust
I will never share this room.