Tuesday, February 26, 2008

On Sideways Smile.

Sideways Smile.

He had a funny, sideways smile,
like he was trying to tell me something.
maybe it was that he had nothing to say,
at least nothing i hadn't heard before.

it's not like I had been around the block or anything,
but i could smell bullshit,
sometimes from almost a whole foot off.
and maybe, just maybe, he could smell that i could smell.

that's why he was a little lighter.
that's why every sentence was weaseled:
"Some people say..."
"I heard somewhere..."
"A lot of people think..."

Maybe it's those little nose hairs that
won't let him say something and mean it.
or maybe it's those little ear hairs that
won't let him hear himself
and how ridiculous it is to never actually say anything,
even though there's
so much talking.
so much talking.
so much jerking off, going on and on about ourselves.

it's your little smile that gives you all that power.
some people believe in shit like that,
maybe because if they called your bluff
they'd have to call theirs.
it's an uneasy truce; it's a delicate circle-jerk.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

On The Wall

The Wall.

Me, I realize that I am a good man and deserve a good stack.
for too long the idea was a light through a wet tree...
the branches are a fun way to grow; just know where your roots
are and you should be in a basic beat.

He's a military dork like me. he had a great time just
running errands, those late night runs.

And then I got used to being elbow deep
into the nearest wall putting our mouths
so close, so close, so stumbling in the dark.

He leaves me now in the bright field, basking in the sun.

Friday, February 8, 2008

On Corners


They talk of the music we'd make strangely this day.
Dream all day that I have read to them in a big corner mirror,
and I wondered why they were me.

I realize that I am, after a good sentence. Oh I know now life.

I am the party that occurs each weekend because
of the photos of my grandfather. He was in the service.

He had nothing to say, at least not in this post, to sound off
on what they don't seem to escape this moment, those right-proper peeping toms.