From my bed:
a sneeze-speckled mirror
reveals my eyes
and a window
that plays host
to a still-frame sky
and a power line.

I use this to plan my day.

For instance(s):
if it looks cold,
I wear a coat.
If it looks rainy,
I wear boots.
If it looks dark,
I wear nothing and
if the birds are out
I wear a hat.

I save my ghillie suit for the apocalypse.

I am your headache,
gentle resentment
on a Friday evening.
I am four beers blunt
and two shots tired.
I am flirting with life
like a closeted man.
I am flailing my arms
hailing a ride home.
I am ready for sleep
but don't have dreams.
I am sorry I can't be
everything you want.

The New York Times
ran an article
on Catholicism today.

I read it while
I was on the toilet.

My grandpa just
joined up.

He said they get him.

The **** Baptists
waste too much water
and they don't even
drink beer.

I knew a Catholic girl once
who was adamant in salvation.

Heaven's gates spread
as wide as her legs.