Sunday, January 29, 2017

Would You Be Interested In A Fake Marriage?

A voice on the phone told me she could see me
lost in fog, stuck in a vicious cycle, losing years of life.
Money is only energy - it comes and it goes - a flow.
You are only a fish, you are not the ocean, but you are
also the ocean. Your heart is connected to the ocean,
the universe, God, and not to trust your heart means
not to trust God, means that you think that you know
better than God does by trying to control things.
And you try to control because you don't trust (fuckin' aye),
and because you don't trust, you operate from a place of fear
which blocks you from being able to really give and receive love...

She had a lot to say while carrying heavy worries
of her own, and you listened, enjoying her accent,
remembering a summer night in a clearing
under the stars, under the medicine,
when you thought she was an angel, an innocent,
and a porcupine waddled across the clearing and
touched her with his nose.

She advised you to use the gift of your heart:

There are many cowards
many assholes
many cruel people
who do no have what you have.

She advised you to look in the mirror and to have a straight talk with yourself:

You tried it this morning
saying your given name
but the face squinting back didn't
realize you were talking to him.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Checking In

sometimes it seems nice to go out among people
not just travel between jobs sleeping when possible
sometimes it seems nice to see life in the eyes of others
buy a beer, find a seat, start to listen but before long
all I want is to finish the beer and make the faces memories

Saturday, January 21, 2017


Regressive state of mind
wonder where she is and
who she's with and about
what happens after that

Each question a station
for a runaway train
to rumble through blaring

It's just a flare up
not a steady state

Just say the word to end the pain
You know it well and yet refrain

Friday, January 20, 2017

I Had A Dream Too

Tonight she thought of me
maybe as she might
a neglected patient,
out of a sense of
propriety or

She almost came to visit
providing cause to clean the toilet, 
make the bed, straighten the room,
vacuum the carpet, burn incense, 
look for candles, and plug in
the long-fasted string of
twenty-five Christmas lights

But I knew not to wait too eagerly, 
and just as I started to conceive
the line about the neglected patient, 
she texted a change in plans

I’m sorry, she said
Of course, I replied

And the sacred lights, 
not yet ridiculous, 
returned to their fasting. 

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Methadone Crow

Tried to take a nap, the quiet end of the overnight shift,
On the cement floor, single blanket and pillow brought from home,
Space heater not stepping up to the plate, but I must have fallen asleep 
Anyway because I woke with bed head and that disoriented feeling
Inside my head that makes me think of crushed glass.

Outside it was still dark and the parking lot was full of cars
Coming in and going out, brake lights and head lights, people bustling about
The frenetic, industrious feel of a morning commuter coffee shop, 
It didn't make any sense at first, but then it clicked, it's the clinic..

People stopping in for their morning dose before their day begins
Methadone (Dunkin Donuts) or Suboxone (Starbucks)
Some of the people were dressed up, girls in cute winter attire,
Everyone was moving with purpose.

My muddled head ached and I noticed
A black crow standing in the new snow
Taking it all in and then looking at me 
Like it wanted to say something.