It’s a beautiful day out
but I’m spending it inside
after a feverish drive
all the way to Kenosha
for a damned typewriter that I
don’t even know if it works

I’m in one of those moods where
I’ll do whatever acts I must commit
to get what I want

I hardly remember the drive
just thinking how excited I was
for a damned typewriter

my head hurts
telling me I should eat more than
the breakfast biscuits I had this morning

I think of the things I should be doing;
the music I should be reviewing
the poetry I should be reading
the shit I shouldn’t be buying

but now I’m back home playing
with my new toypwriter
like it will make me a better writer
even though I know that’s
all bullshit

horseshit just like
a camera doesn’t make
the photographer
or a paintbrush
the Picasso

but I’ll keep sitting here like a monkey
hoping I’ll make my modern-day Shakespeare
with this damned typewriter
I don’t regret buying

anxious drinking

I’m drinking too fast tonight
trying to calm my nerves
that normally lie dormant

these two girls —
one tall, one short
like my friend and I —
come talk to us
in a room where
I’m paranoidly convinced
I’m somewhere I’m not welcome

the shorter one vaguely reminds me
of someone I loved in a past life
before I jumped off that ledge

she tells me I should dye my hair
platinum blonde
I say only if she dyes hers
we fist-bump in agreement

we lose them and I stand
listening to the music and I keep


staring at strings of lights along the ceiling
like they’ve got all the answers
to my problems, thinking how
earlier my friend and I
were drunkenly trying to figure out
how long those bulbs last
with their extra large filaments

do they last long lives unfulfilled
or just as long as any other bulb
leaving less light in this dark world?

the nerves that settled down are fighting again
and I lean back into the back seat of my brain
telling the quarreling siblings
to shut the fuck up.

and now I’m lost in the music


staring at these lights again
and I’m so lost I get surprised when the music ends

we zip up our coats to leave
as I think at least I won’t be dying
my hair platinum blonde tonight

New Old Friends

You said I looked happier
and I thought you looked more genuine like
the friend I had originally befriended
before we went for a walk

And oh how we talked

I chattered excitedly, partly
hopped up from caffeine
it felt like hours passed

and I could hardly keep up with my words and for once I didn’t care because we were talking like we had talked from the start but everything was new again and it was like I was making a brand new bestfriend all over again

I rode back to my car
in your car, bringing out
the bone dust in our pockets
that we decided to sprinkle
out the window

And as I left your car
after our awkward car hug
the clouds began to sniffle
before erupting into weeping
leaving me to get into my car
thinking that the gods
that may or may not exist
sure have a flair for the cinematic

I drove home with the music off
tears in my eyes because of how much
I missed my old friend and how good
it was to see you and know how close
we still are despite the growing pains

I arrived home, excitedly tired
before letting you know I was home safe

And I smiled as I read
the last text sent by you that night:
“See you soon, my friend.”


That nagging voice is back again
telling me to pluck my brainstem
like a freshly picked dandelion

It’s been a few days, maybe weeks of it —
I can’t really tell, it always starts quiet
more like a polite suggestion
than the boorish demands made later

I’m exhausted from it, eyes blurry
as the voice presses my occipital lobe
threatening cortical blindness

Sunny days dwindle to dreary dark
to the point where I don’t know
where I am or where I’ve been

There’s no desire for a permanent solution
to a temporary problem, but man
am I sick of this all

I’d sleep more
if not for the nagging voice
keeping me up at night

But I will not give up my light
until it’s meant to go out
years from now when the wick
is old, tired, and full of stories

I will not give in to its pleas or trickery
of “peaceful” premature sleep that leaves
behind loved ones and unfinished business

To that nagging voice’s demands:
I refuse
I refuse
I refuse


I woke to soft shades of blue in my soul
little infants of feelings I couldn’t describe
watching as they grew up right before my eyes
from toddling toddlers to angsty adolescence
filling my adult body

I ran to the Lion’s Den
exploring its trails for hours
before sitting down for lunch
and being forced to let them sit with me

Traveling home
all I wanted was indefinite sleep
no desire to die, but no will to live

But as the sun sets, so to do the blues
bored with tormenting me for today