Sunday Morning

my head suffers
from last night’s vice
as a selfish, arrogant sun
smashes my window
unwelcomed

desire and tradition
deliver my sins
to a beer can kitchen where

pouring coffee
seems dramatic and
ridiculous as I
prepare to hustle away
another morning of my life

trampling the purpose
of yet another champion
hangover

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Me and my friends are in it. It's better than the bible or the Watchtower.

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Punk Show

Punk Show



“One, Two, Fuck You!”



the music starts.

energy is released.

I smile.



I look over at my daughter,

her eyes are large

behind her dyed Black bangs

as her mind processes

what her eyes have

seen.



we move to the front,

where the sound is deafening,

and the transition is made

from spectator

to participant.



“This kicks ass!” my daughter shouts.



we both smile.



sweat is flung from

thrashing bodies as

lyrics are screamed

through a strained PA



this is honesty

slapping the face

of a greed driven world

we all grew so tired of

long ago.



the first band finishes

their set

and another band

sets up in

their place.



and my daughter and I

stand together

looking at all the beautiful creatures

the rest of society

has rejected.



“These are my people,”

I tell her,

“I feel comfortable here.”



“I do too,” she confesses.



“One, Two, Fuck You!”



this will continue

all night

long.



we look at each other

and smile.

The Longest Poem Ever Written About A Sinus Infection

my whole body hurt
in a way I
didn’t think was
possible

it must have been
100 degrees that day
as I gasped for air
in a hot car
moving slowly to what
I hoped would be
some sort of end

I felt like I might
die
and there were moments
when I really wanted
to
as traffic locked me
into position

I couldn’t believe
how much I
hated
every car and
every person
ever made

and all I needed
was a place to breath
to sleep
to live a day when
the sun could be
a little kinder

and I continued moving
slowly
toward what
I hoped would be
some sort of
end

and in what seemed
like a million
hours
I was under
cool sheets
restlessly sleeping away
pain and delirium
and another day
I never wished
to relive

but sleep was
only a dirty trick

and I awoke to the sound
of a child that
was not my own

he was playing outside
and screaming a
stupid child scream
and my head exploded
I couldn’t believe
how much I
hated
every cell that
had divided to
make him

I got out of bed
and slowly walked
to the kitchen
for a glass
of water

my body still throbbed
it hurt to breath
to walk
to think
but I had
to do all
three

I drank the water
but remained
thirsty

and all I really wanted
was a sound
proof room
or something else
as equally
intangible

I again felt
as though
I might stop
living

and then
there were those
moments
where I thought
I had probably already
died

and my head
exploded
and I could not
believe
how much I hated
every second that
passed

but I continued moving
slowly
toward what
I hoped would be
some sort of
end

SLAVES

we work such shitty jobs
so we can afford to get sick
and buy advertised drugs

some of us have never been broke
or broken a bone or been to
a punk rock show or out
of the town we were born in

we stay in loveless marriages
because we are too afraid
to leave or part with
our grand materialism

some of us have never had an orgasm
or had our hearts broken because

we hide ourselves from others
for fear of misunderstanding,
rejection or violence and

some of us lack empathy because
we still don’t know
who we are

we follow religious and political doctrines
because we are afraid to think for
or believe in ourselves and

some of us live in very tiny
obscenely safe worlds
fat with what we think will make us whole
where we sit very comfortably
in over sized chairs and

we call out, so that others might hear
and declare quite loudly
that we have been made
free.

Understanding One

One drink
can quickly drag a man
down those 12 steps
it took so long
to crawl up

But one despicable love
can infect a man
with a furious sadness
so powerful
so consuming
he becomes alive
with a profound
incurable nothing

One job
can torture
and demolish a man
rendering him primal
like the shit eating grin
of a supervised war

And one reason
once discovered
is all we need
to explain
the mess we’ve made
of our lives

Because one chance is all
we are afforded
trusting nothing
was wasted
making god a clown

Every Reason #2

Issue #2 of my 'zine is out now!

Get yours here:http://www.etsy.com/listing/57314017/every-reason-zine-number-2

Watch the making of it here:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ftCtaYQVmY

Part 2 is here:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oQZNj9oLoAs&feature=related