An Introvert Goes Outside

it's important on days like this
to start with a test run

don't commit to any long travels
until you are sure you can manage
being around others without having
a full blown freakout

i start with the Mexican restaurant
across the street

they don't serve much
in the vegetarian department
so i just get a 20 oz of diet soda
sit at a table
and stare out the window
toward my apartment

i should just go back
now

but
i do need some groceries
so i twist the cap onto my soda
and make my move to the mall

i check the frozen vegetables at Target
to see if they have broccoli back in stock

they do
but before i grab a cart
i decide to saunter around the mall
maybe get myself comfortable with
the outside world

no dice

a cute woman even smiles at me
and it terrifies me so much that my eyes
tear up

the day was over before it began
it just took this long for me to realize it

maybe i'll go to the poetry reading
next month

maybe i'll interact with another person
on Saturday

maybe i'll feel okay in my own skin
tomorrow

The Dictionary

any writer

every writer

that one book
is the best friend to all

fiction?
nonfiction?
all the words you need
are there

poetry?
prose?
all the words you need
are there

colloquial
grandiloquent

the $10 words
the $5 words
the $2 words

if you have the right edition
you can even find some cuss words
in there

i looked up "cocksucker" in high school

-A person that performs the act of fellatio.

that was good for a laugh

and there are words in there
that might make you cry
like "hate"

words that might make you angry
like "injustice"

any word

every word

for any writer

every writer

it's the most important book on the shelf

One Hell...

of a girl

with fiery pitchforks in her kisses

you fall into her eyes

a helpless descending angel

evil overcomes you

at the nape of her neck

her wicked fingers pull you in

mesmerized as she whispers of sin

it burns when you press against her skin

but at this altar sweating with lust

god never existed 

and all that matters

is what the devil wants 

A Long Hair on the Pillow

plenty more on that beautiful head
of hers

she'll
never
even know it's missing

i do my best not to disturb it
leave it just as it is
care for it
love it

because i know
in moments like these
there's nothing worse than feeling
like you didn't really matter
and that you might easily
be replaced
forgotten

Grandsons Just Don't Understand

"i listen all kinds of music,"
Gramma stated,
"except for that loud, screamy stuff
you listen to."

i argued,
"yeah right,
you don't listen to hip hop."

"i listen to some hip hop,"
she said defensively.

i rolled my eyes,
"oh yeah?
east coast
or west coast?"

she thought for a second,
and just proudly exclaimed,
"Will Smith!"

Susan

i think about her

at least once

every day

i think about all the different streets

that i could take to get to her house

some of them are quiet

peaceful avenues

and others...

others are not 

violent roads

bloody messes

filled with terror

but
those are the shortcuts

the sure things

no chance of making a wrong turn

i'd hate to plan a trip to her place

just to wind up lost

and embarrassed 

maybe that's part of the reason

i've never visited her

afraid i'd screw up the directions

and end up worse off than i started

that

and knowing

when you show up to Susan's 

you stay at Susan's 

call it fear of commitment 

call it logical thinking 

whatever 

but i have to remind myself 

forever is a long time

and i'll get there soon enough 

with

or without Susan

The Sea Whispers the Pirate's Shanty Like a Requiem

the map was always wrong

and the only place their ship

was ever going to end up is

the ocean floor 

a chest filled with gold

emerald

and ruby

waits for a wave

to break against the shore

with the news that

no one is coming

with the sad

relentless truth

that if you're not a treasure to someone 

than you are no treasure

at all

The Axe That Wanted to Be a Guitar

the steel used to make a blade

always laments it wasn't 

instead

made into frets

and wound into strings

the wood used to fashion a handle 

dreams about being a neck 

sending vibrations to a body

that transform into music

as it chops through a forest of pines

the axe pines to be in the concert hall

making a sound all can hear

Pizza

when my brother and i were kids
Godfather's Pizza was our favorite

one particular time
i was 12
he was 6
the pizza came to the table
while he was over playing an arcade game

i was quick to plate a piece for him
cover it with a ridiculous amount of crushed red pepper flakes
and disguise it under a layer of parmesan cheese

he came back to the the table
and i said
"here, i got you a piece all ready."

"thanks, brother,"
he said
silly son of a bitch
actually thinking his big brother
did something nice for him

he took a huge bite
almost immediately started crying
and i could not have laughed harder

fast forward six years
the two of us are back at Godfather's

the pizza came to the table
while i was in the men's
taking a piss

i came out to find a piece
covered in parm
sitting in front of my seat

i rolled my eyes
"do you really think you're gonna get me
at my own game?"

"i didn't do anything to it,"
he insisted

i scraped the parm off
and sure enough
there was no red pepper

i felt bad for doubting him
"i'm sorry, dude."

silly son of a bitch
actually thinking his little brother
did something nice for him

i took a huge bite
my tongue lit up
and he could not have laughed harder

he'd lifted the mozzarella up
and put the pepper underneath

my mouth was on fire
but i was too impressed with his cunning
to be mad

so i laughed
too

Translation

my ears perked up
when i heard her say
she loves a guy that writes

"this is it,"
i thought
excitedly

but before i pulled up
my poetry blog on the smartphone
i had to remind myself of subtext

those underlying tones
said without being said

what she meant was
she loves a guy who is taller
that writes

what she meant was
she loves a guy who is better looking
that writes

what she meant was
she loves a guy that writes
politically charged articles for the local weekly
humorous short stories
or fucking sonnets

she did not mean
someone who writes
self-deprecating free verse

she did not mean a guy
with no car
a bad back
a studio apartment
and a pen

she did not mean
me

An Origin Story

as harsh winds collided
the cruel eyes of two storms met
and could not look away

this is how love was born

time reduced to ash
all the clocks were made of fire
burning each second

Metal

in a small town during the 90's

fm radio hummed stale moans

of arena rock

for most folks
that was just fine

Classic Rock
the soundtrack of their youth

but the beat of Ringo

Keith Moon

Charlie Watts

was not one i could march to

i didn't want to march

at all

i wanted to run

but there was nowhere to

run to

my peers

enamored with the grunge movement 

found that was their answer to the boring shit

our parents listened to

but for me

it wasn't enough

Soundgarden

was as sleepy as Simon and Garfunkel

Smells Like Teen Spirit 

was no more resonant with me

than Rock and Roll All Nite

i was suffocating

choking on prime time television 

Jesus Christ worship

and video games

i was out of place

and angry

and that anger was my reason to breathe 

Chad Lennon

the older kid

on the other side of our fence

saw this in me

so he started lending me tapes

he started slow

knowing that Slayer
was the most extreme band

i had any knowledge of at that time

"that's a good start,"

he said

"but..."

soon enough

i was staring at a picture of Glenn Benton

with an inverted cross branded into his face

on the inside sleeve of a Deicide cassette

it shocked me

but not as much as it intrigued me

Death Metal

Black Metal 

Extreme Metal

i didn't give a fuck what you called it

it all hit me like nothing else could at that time

blast beats and monster vocals

were like messages in a bottle

that no Police song could fit into

skull art and Satanic lyricism 

was my assurance that others

like me

were out there

weird

hostile 

and unafraid

long-hairs dressed in black t-shirts

vehemently proud about being unusual

with a reverence for impiety

the more unholy the music was

the more sacred it was

now

i'm not as Metal

as i used to be

i kinda like Simon and Garfunkel

and my back hurts way too much

to ever set another foot in the mosh pit

but

there is always a twisted

black corner in my heart

reserved for the soundtrack of

my

youth

The Soil of Hubris

gravity undressed 

the ground

afraid it would be left alone

tried to shame the nakedness 

gravity blushed

the ground

felt its own weight

as everything crashed against it

She Loved Me

she knew i was weird
but she told everyone else
it was just because i was so smart

i think i believed it more
than they did

i think she believed it more
than me

i was 11
or 12
when i wrote my first poem

i showed it to her first
because i knew it would garner
her automatic praise

but i never expected the acclaim
that i received

she paid to have it printed
in the local paper

you'd have thought
i was Robert fucking Frost
or some shit

i don't remember why i wrote it
if it was some underlying need
to create
or if i just thought it would be a good way
to make myself stand out
and seem more interesting
to cute girls

i probably just saw some character
in a movie do it

either way
after gramma had it printed
in the paper
i knew i had to keep it up
even if just to make her proud

which it usually did

but she didn't understand
when i started writing free verse

"why doesn't it rhyme?"
she'd ask

and she wasn't thrilled when i would swear
in poems

"you don't need that language,"
she'd say

but she would always listen
to every
single
poem
i
ever
wrote

every
single
line

and even if she thought it should rhyme
and that it would be better without
the cussing
she would still convince me
that i was some kind of genius

sometimes
i still believe i am

sometimes
i think it was just because
she loved me

but that alone is enough reason
for me not to quit

Two Friends Meet for Coffee

he sat there sipping at a latte
drawing or writing poetry
while i stared at the back of his head

he peaked with excitement
as his friend walked through the door

the friend placed his winter coat
on the other chair at the table
and said
"I'll be right back"

in less than two minutes
he returned with a medium
citrus blend green tea


they talked too quietly
for me to decipher
what they were saying
over whatever machine
the barrista was running
behind the counter

the machine stopped
and they were talking about
friends they used to have
when they were in college

the whole conversation seemed
rather boring
but
so is my life
since i stopped drinking
so i pretended they were interesting

i pretended that i am interesting
for listening to their anticlimactic
dialogue

Damn!
the banality gets to me