A Virus With Teeth

The devil sleeps in my veins
he is balled up and protruding--
resting in tumor position
making me sweat, making me worry
this might be the last time
i ever use a knife

Why should you pay for anything when your senses are free?

He says it was a car accident,
But we smell Russian Roulette.
A doctor with a southern accent tries
to piece together a broken
story. It's four minutes 'till
1 in the morning, when sleep shies away
from florescent lights and hospital beds.

All I hear is clicking and heavy breathing,
and I see the immiscible colors
of pain and cure
mixing
above my head.

"These scares stair me!"

We've Reached an Impasse

Like the conversation between bricklayers
Slow steady grind of teeth on hay
After years of meeting at the bottom
Of a crooked staircase
With a welcome pack of cigarettes
And two bottles of cranberry juice,
We’ve tried, God knows,
But we can’t figure out the puzzle
Of a forest fire or the maps in our fingerprints.
We only tell ourselves lies to keep
From falling asleep.

It Only Takes a Pen to Admit

You and I, my friend
Are just misspelled words,
That no one notices,
Or cares to fix.

Playing Dead

Seeing what
"you"
really mean.

If we all agree to destroy ourselves together it will be much less depressing, hell, we'll even call it fun.

Champaign flows like trash
infested creeks, sludge can slow,
I fight for you like a bull
heaving dry and wet on his
prized day
reaching out
with fists bent into palms
breathing in all the sounds
from the rooftops, from the streets
the deadened, skeletal conversation,
words with no meat,
a tongue weak, only catches liquid
and no meaning,
an anemic phrase
and bulimic butterflies
to keep that pencil-line
smile stitched to your face.