Philosophy?

What have I been up to lately?

How to explain the curiously busy task

Of self reflection, regulation, maintenance

The privilege of a daydream?

Or the purely masterbatory amount of time

Spent in contemplation? 

How to justify that arguing with oneself

Could be a hobby, anxiety a sport?

How to convey the exhaustion 

of such an incorporeal productivity?

It all sounds so vague and conceited.

Is it philosophy or self flagellation?

"Not much, and you?"

Decadence

And so my decade of decadence

Has come to a close

And nothing I have left

Is worth keeping

Not memories

Or friends

Or worn old party clothes.

The Weather

So tired of hearing
About the fucking weather,
What does it matter to me?
Yeah, it's fucking cold outside
It's fucking winter, you dumbass
We don't live in California.
No, I didn't order the cold,
Don't think UPS delivers that
And the U.S.P.S. is seriously underfunded
or some shit...
And go fuck yourself.

Iowa

Where am I going?
Where have I been?
Everything looks the same to me.
How do you know where to turn?

Fucking gravel roads.
Fucking corn fields.

The Dirt

Do what you gotta do

Screw who you gotta screw

To get what you want

Is not a crime

And morality is just a line

You sign your name on.

And don't ever go back.

If you have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill

Never go back to that life

To the dirt you crawled away from.

Present Company

Was there a before?
I can only feel the after.

Heavy

Heavy

Everything you lost weighs
More than you could have guessed
In your chest.

Heavy

Don't drop your burdens
They break into more cargo
To carry.

Heavy

Labor for your pains
Just ignore the feelings until
They're buried.

Wake Up

Wake up
Put on a clean old shirt
Pretend the world
Doesn't make me hurt

Don't look
At those around me
Their pain displayed
For anyone to see
The raw nerves
Unshielded flesh
Stick a fork in me
I'm done.

Go to sleep
In the same old shirt
Dream a world
Where I am unhurt
See a friend
I forgot long ago
Jump off a cliff
Land in Mexico
The soft fall
The open air

Wake up
Put on the same old day
Pretend there is
Something new to say.

Crashing

When everything is going well
And the skies are clearing up
The weather's turning warm
And abundance is within reach

Just wait.

When the other shoe drops
You'll touch the broken glass and wonder
How you stay put together
When everything else

Crashes down.

Older

Everybody's growing up
But I'm just growing older
Never really known true love
My heart's just growing colder
I've known obsession and regret
I've had a couple friends like you.

Now it's almost Spring again
When everything begins, renews
But I have always hated Spring
For everything we lose.
With all this growing up
I keep on losing you

To the day after day after day after days
And all this growing up
Leaves less time for magic
And mythos and adventure.
I just want some mystery to remain
I hope you do too.

Growing Up

The truth is I don't get too enthused for anything anymore.
Everything is a compromise of the original intent
Weighed against the sleep debt I'll owe
and the amount of sighing I can get away with
without hating myself.
I wonder if this is growing up?

Beige

Cigarette on my lips
Alcohol drowned liver
When the time comes
To leave for good and ever
I don't care if I'm on
The wrong side of a needle,
Don't let me die with beige nail polish
On my fingertips.

I don't care why
I don't care when
In disgrace or utter ruin
Just
Don't let me die with beige nail polish
On my fingertips.

When It's Time

When it's time
To leave this cemetery
And move to the future,
I'll write my name on a tree
And leave only cigarette ash
In Memory.

And the deadline feels so close
It's almost time, it's almost time
To shut my eyes
And imagine abundance.
But I'm tethered still
And I won't move on until...

When it's time,
I'll pack my car,
Wave goodbye to my
Hometown bar,
And leave only cigarette ash
In Memory.

Today

Take no more solace in the illusion of tomorrow.
There is only today.
Every day is today.

Arts and Privilege

I am not a lady
Though I know the art,
The delicate waiting
That is required.

But demure smiles were never honest enough
For my peasant mouth.

I was born free of locks and the rules
Propriety brings to rein in our desires.

I was born
Free of respectability
Free of notoriety
Free of wealth
Free of worth.

Though I know the art,
The sophisticated lying
That is required,
I am not a lady.

Compromise

Bending is a myth,
We're always just breaking.
Little tears in the fabric
of all that we are
re-knitting, re-forming
stronger, but flawed.
Strangers to the standards
we set when we were whole.

MORE NOTHING

They say to be open
To life and all it's possibilities
I don't know how much more open to be
Nothing ever flies into me
Nothing ever woos or tackles me
All I've opened to is
Nothing and more nothing.
The windows are all painted shut
The doors are all locked
The keys hidden around someone's neck
Tiny metal nooses
Keeping us forever in separation.
I've tried meditation
I've tried sedation
But I only fall farther and farther in
And nothing opens
And nothing slams shut
I'm left with only the same quiet room
Full of nothing and more nothing.