i weep crows with eyes that find no purchase, regret filled. they fling themselves into the moon, lost between thick clouds racing the sky. the night was so well lit that i could see the veins on the back of my hand, pulsing and thick, vines across a freshly dug grave. halloween is coming but there are no witches to poison me.
at peace
the sanest moments, the one where i posses the most clarity are the one where i am utterly alone: there is no you, there are no children, there is no self hate. i am alone with the house, the darkness, the sounds of cicada, the air cool, the streets quiet. i do not look within because there is nothing to see, nothing there, no remorse, no sense of impending doom, no weight of disappointment. i am not a failure as a husband, not an incompetent father, not a recalcitrant son. i am not a sorry excuse for a human being. i am isolated and whole and at peace.
first birthday
Son, we had your first birthday aprty today and you were adorable and shy but curious and playful. You are a wonder to me: hesitant and stubborn, open and observent: you are not afraid to look at anyone in the eyes, you hold their gaze. Will you remember to tell me what you were looking for? Will you tell me what you saw? Will it break my heart?
inevitable skewer
I have to admit there’s only a certain amount of stupidity I can withstand: it is all so trivial. Am I a product of this or have I out grown it? Ceaselessly, like waves pounding, eroding the shore. I am wasting away and no one can see. I look out my daughter, already lost, my son, a certain hope there that he will surpass me. I look at her and see all the wonder and grace a human being can be. I look at the mirror and all I see is sorrow and pain, the bearer and the cause: a lamb and the inevitable skewer.
how being pro-choice is republican
watching sarah palin and completely losnig my shit on her stance on the “culture of life.”
did it ever occur to these republicans that pro-choice is more in-line with their conservative values?
here’s why: the vast majority of abortions are performed on women in their early teens to mid twenties living in metropolitain areas. they are not financially indepedent and most likely because of their lack of a college education will not be after they bring a baby to term.
here we go, child born into unwanted household to parents, or rather PARENT of limited means. even worse, child goes into foster care. who subsidizes foster care, the government. abortion gets outlawed, more kids into the system. but not unwanted rich babies. people of means would simply leave the country to have the procedure performed elsewhere.
so now we’re left with unwanted babies being born to poor, working class teen/early twenty year olds in metropolitain areas of limited means and limited education. how are they going to support these children? ah, they ask for help, help from whom? the government.
so now we got single parents on welfare, children in foster care, and the government determining where these children should stay, how they should live. children in foster care tend to remain institutionalized in one way or another: mental, juvenile, correctional, etc.
more government oversight, regulation and bureaucracy.
how the fuck is this in-line with the touted fiscal conservatism of the republicans?
best bet tied
yakkity yak, here’s a smack, right across the face, did you like that? did you want more? no, no, no. tie them fucking hands up, shall we? you have no rights here, you are nothing here other than skin, bruised fucking meat, you’re my motherfucking punching bag. strain all you want, curse me, spit me, wriggle as hard as you can. it just makes me harder, makes my tighten my fucking fists. your best bet is to go limp. your best bet is to roll with it. your best bet is i get tired before i start on your fucking bones.
straining
the straining of leaves and I felt like we were in the fifties but awoke to an infomercial of supported breasts and an advanced push bra. it’s all over again and the ache stretches through the bones until it clamors in the mouth, drying up the spit and withering the gum. every action should have a consequence else we find ourselves drunk and disorderly, fumbling our keys trying to break into our own homes.
the lies that bind
We are constantly saying things we do not mean: I’m fine, we’re all fine, I hate you, I miss you, I love you. We say them to fill up space, we say them because we are afraid of the repercussions of piercing the veil, of looking behind the curtain. It’s the lies that hold this world together, that bind us into a false sense of security. Because we know there is no wizard, we’ve become too old to believe in magic, we’ve become snugly accustomed to not being ourselves.
anything at all
every confession contains within itself denial: we were all pretending. in the night, nothing helps, every utterance digs you deeper, you are more lost than ever. she looks at you, searching for who you once were. you tell her, this is nothing new, this is who i’ve always been. she whispers, maybe you can ask your mother to stop working, she can help out with the kids…
i never should have told you anything. i never should’ve said anything at all.
against inspiration
If you make it a matter of inspiration, nothing ever gets done, you’ll get no where.
It needs to be a force of will, you to be disciplined, you meed to do.
And sometimes, after a line or two of utter garbage something will come: something wondrous, monstrous, something that will you inspire you.
But most of the time it will be nonsense, it will be incoherent and unsalvageable.
However, ever present, the gnawing still, “one chance each time.”