i think when i grow up
i want to be your shadow

there's the obvious advantage
of being your constant companion

but then there is the fact
of sunny days
they'd be the best

you'd be in the park,
soaking it all in
and i'd be there too
right behind
or beside you

depending on the position of the sun

and on the grey days
when you're tired
or too drunk
trying to find your way back
i'd be there then too
making sure
you made it

i realize it isn't much
as career goals go
but if there's ever a position open
please
keep me in mind.

there are few things in the world
i trust and understand more
than old dogs

old dogs and old hippies

the slow plodding shuffle
quiet eyes set off
far away in some other moment

tired joints
tell tales of boundless
joy and energy

these stories are the
those that resonate
deeper than the sound
of those joints
cracking and popping
ascending a flight of stairs

i smoked a whole pack of cigarettes
just waiting for your response

the world has beat you up
you're as tired as
i feel
and my bones hurt

i've sat quietly
and drank away
my $30 life savings

the lost well
this fucking Costa Rican coin

white privilege

work
work
work
work

resting on a black wing

please just come hold my hand
let's be insignificant together

Magical Death

we were warned

many years ago by brother andre 

that spaceships do not come with rear view mirrors

and i learned earlier today

that anything but death

would have brought me to right now

and i am overwhelmed by the weight 

of the world, and what 

and when 

and why

and where 

and how 

we treat each other the way we do

but where i am not lost

a place i understand in the midst of all

of all of everything

is simply, i like you

and in saying that, 

because i like you

i also am scared

not of you

but of people

not of myself

but of life

not of death

but of not careening for it headlong at breakneck speeds controlled only by sheer force of will and the determination it takes to have a great adventure

to really be different at the end of the story

than you were when the reader first started your book

and in the midst of all of everything

quietly here to myself 

i am reminded that even now

in the midst of struggling with the first 

smitten recompense

for rest and quiet and unabashed joy

i will tell you that i like you

because i think you are like me

that you can see love as growth

and change as strength

that at the end of this narrative

we could truly have lived

but mostly

i like you

there are things i remember

it had been a long day
we were both tired
there was no filter anymore
no barrier holding feelings back
we just were

the ocean crashed
just feet away from us
lapping at the land

tired but not done
we held each other
on that deck chair
on that roof
and for a minute
brief albeit
just listened to the ocean

then with the next wave it all flooded back
the emotion
the tired
the the
the thing that keeps us up
and pushes us forward

the desire for more

we held each other
not for pleasure
not even for comfort

but to keep us from floating off
into the infinite abyss

we held each other
to make sure we stayed there
in that moment

you fell asleep
and i carried you down the stairs to the couch
finding rest myself in a hammock
in paradise

the morning would be better
shoes or not

and we'd still be
here
there
ready
waiting
moving
bursting with life

i remember vaguely

yelling at the sky

i am done dancing with this ghost

but the wake isn't over

everyone is still mourning

whiskey has hardly passed our lips

much less calmed our hearts 

but i won't dance again

at least not here

not in full view of 

everyone that brought us here

those moves are for another day

and another ghost

there is very little to say anymore

about anything really.

i remember when you stopped saying "i love you" when we parted ways.

cause it wasn't a bad day.  it was just a day.
it was just normal.  and i went into the world unarmed.

for the first time in years without the banner of your love.

and your love left after that.
part of it had been gone, maybe part of it never bloomed.

but one thing is for certain.  on that nothing day, in that small apartment, surrounded by a pack of animals, i said "have a good day babe" and you kept reading.

we didn't fight.
fuck, we might've even have attempted sex recently.
you just didn't know i was up.
or packed and leaving.

you honestly didn't care.
not to say you didn't tell me you loved me after that day.  that was just the first time it didn't matter if you did.

shortly after that i worked a marathon shift.  bike shop and bar all in one day.
i was tired.
i was beat.
but we had to drive to nebraska.  it was that time. time to go home and see our people.
it was the last big trip we took in that volkswagen.

that trip may've killed it.  that trip may have been when you decided to leave.

i've never asked, because i really don't care about the logistics of it all unless i'm up late
or  scotch drunk

but i remember waking up part way through the day
the stale smell of rolling tobacco and weed
fall pouring in through the windows.

a collection of mixes i had made for the trip were oddly untouched
and that fucking adele song was kind of playing through the
static of a radio station we were just barely too far from.

and you were singing.

but you barely sang
not even for me, the fool who knew every line to every song.
sure you would
rap along with salt-n-pepa
wail along with billy corgan
sob along with fionna apple

but not if someone else was listening.
and not with any genuine feeling.

certainly not like this, to this song.

i heard you sing like this one other time
but your emotion was different
it was again, some radio crap
but in his truck, before i knew about anything

i was awake this time.  but barely present enough to catch the irony.

it wouldn't land til months later.

and all of this bothers me.  it haunts me today to consider how long i was just practical
a means to an end.

i didn't know that day in the truck.  i should've in the volkswagen.
adele v. taylor swift
good lord what terrible music.

hate
pure and blinding
disregard
without reason

a fire swept forest
will be green again
but hearts
they're of
the same sausage ingredients
as the rest of us.

A poem for Paul

Tonight I stopped at the closest bar to my apartment after my bowling league.

It was packed.

I was kinda lost in it all, I just wanted a shot of Beam before I went home to smoke and sleep.

And there she was man.  It was just like that night I bailed on that weird show to go to The Mountain Goats with you and Pavel.

She was right there and I felt all the same relief and comfort wash over me.
The night was not a total loss.

There was my girl and I was ok.  I swear to all that is real it was her and she was right there.

But, she's gone.  She'll never quiet my mind again.  And the girl I saw tonight won't love me anymore than she does.

God it looked like her, and I felt way better.