Drain

So sick of the drain
not quite pain
a bruise and a poke
a nagging finger on pulse
internal itch to scratch
slow burn, death is not fast
no blood to be lost
a choir quietly chanting
swallowing bitter pills
between meals
vomitus aftertaste

Backpedal

Remorse
over
spilled discourse

Mopping
up thoughts
with a cosmic sock

Licking front teeth
looking for
raw thought

Searching for
pleasure/pain
and median to pull off on

Where where you
when I was backpedaling
softly on training wheels?

Moving forward
while I was
sinking into past

Malnourished
I cut my teeth
on bread so unclean

Pissing away life
to trade in for
interstellar dreams

Sifting for a thread
because
come apart at seams

Pure force
overwhelmed
intercourse

Where were you
my star
after I was the prequel?

Stopping
at nothing
to mete out my breaths

Collision

I drove by my younger self on the way home last night

I wanted to tell him to look out for that stop sign
that thing in the road
I tried to tell him to look out for me
but he went on running red lights
driving under influence

maybe we will meet between sideways glances

maybe we will meet amidst asides

maybe we will join and sideswipe

maybe as two we will become someone we could not with one

maybe these lines do not intersect

Urinal Poem

They say you can read fortunes in tea leaves
well right now I’m staring at a urinal cake
wondering just what to make
of this night, this point in time
I’m chewing popcorn kernels
stuck in my teeth
comfort food between drinks
I don’t see anything
maybe my aim is off
or maybe I am right on target