“i have something to tell you”
she whispered
i looked at her and could tell
exactly what was on her mind
her words were written all over her
like a third grade chalkboard
etched with multiplication tables
her eyes were glossy
and the only bit of color in her face
was within her cheeks
she looked as if her lunch was about to come
right up into her lap
her fingers were writhing
her eyes were roaming around the room
  holding the worry that consumed her
she told me that she had never in her life
been so in love with someone
and that she was afraid

not afraid of me hurting her
   but afraid of her hurting
because if there was nothing
in life that she gathered
the lesson would still remain that
she would always
get hurt
she would always cry
she would always break
eventually
i gently took my hand
to the side of her rosy cheek
and croaked,
with what seemed like cotton in my throat
and liquid coals in my eyes,
“i know”

she looked into my eyes
and i into hers
in the way that only lovers do
and with our lips pressed together,
her hand passionately grabbing
the back of my head, gathering
  fistfuls of my hair as if it were anchoring
  her to the harbor of clarity and understanding,
with my hands gripping her hips
  as if to steal her away from the
atmosphere for a minute,
we sealed our fate
  as libidinous lovers
   (but also ingenuous best friends)

*k.n

It is only when you realise,
As you sit in the far corner of the room,
that they are all so far away from you.
So
Distant.
Laughing amongst themselves
In a joke you clearly don’t understand.
Alienated from the throws of conversation
And the formalities of friendship.
You daren’t say a word for the silence that will follow.
A dragging
Periodic
Calculating
Silence.
So you sit, content with your space
In need of something you cannot categorise.
They’re all just
So
Distant.
If the physical space weren’t enough,
Your individuality will seal the deal.
So
Distant.

That feeling
That tingle
That want
That need
Its coming back
So silent- unseen
Ill sneak a quick one
No one will see
'Cause I'm the happy girl
Sadness can't be

I don't cut
I don't burn
I don't stab
I just yearn
For that next quick fix
Oh when will I learn?

I scratch
and I scratch
and I scratch
and I scratch
Until I look at my arm
and see one bare patch.
Where the skin is removed
A scab will soon form
Then my arm will heal
So nice and warm.

I feel disgraced
and say never again
I believe myself
But I go insane

As the cycle restarts
And I begin my peeling
I think back and remember
That feeling
That tingle
That want
That need
Its coming back
So silent- unseen...

Flag of my fathers

When will the winds of equality
lift you from your languid prison?

When will your 12,000,000
immigrants get a fair shake
beneath your furled stars?

Flag of my fathers

When will you be worthy
of your returning veterans?

I'm tired of them washing
my windows for spare change
beneath the overpass

Flag of my fathers

When will your gays and lesbians
be more than fodder for bible
thumping patriots?

I was a bible thumping patriot
once but I never hated the gays

I'm tired and broke Flag of my fathers

The bank wants my house
and the Chinaman wants my job

He's welcome to it if he can get
the Indian to give it up

The doctor wants my money
but it's all been squandered
on promises and broken dreams

I call for equality Flag of my fathers
and they call me a communist

I'm not a communist but if communists
believe in equality, was Jefferson
a communist?

Flag of my fathers

They tell me to leave if I don't like
the way things are but where will I go?
Mexico's crowded and Canada's cold

The righties tell me 'get a job'
but the jobies say 'get an education'
The Universities hand me a bill
and when I can't pay
they tell me 'get a job'

It's all ****** up Flag of my fathers
and doesn't make any sense

I've got a headache, leave me
alone

I'm so tired

Watching shadows crawl across
the walls is dull even for a slow
witted fool like me

Flag of my fathers

Why are we at war?
Why are we closing our museums
and demolishing our libraries?
Why are we feeding our military
and starving our vets?

It's too much to take
Flag of my fathers

It's too **** much to take...

To sit in silence,
to ponder, to muse
the fate of the unbroken,
the valid, reckless few,
who fear not
a journey long
or a path unbeaten,
who embrace a life untold.

To squander life
lost in the comfort of home
is to forego a gift
on the horizon unknown.
Though the world is not perfect,
and the paths of many
are far from true
they journey forward,
the reckless few.

Two star-crossed lovers,
their eyes bridged by a glance
both busy and hurried
with little faith in daily chance
destined for fallen love,
their hopes arisen by circumstance.

He sees
an intrinsic beauty
inside her resides
the epitome of purity
where an ephemeral stare
lulls him into abyss, eternity
and he longs beyond longing
to live life in unity
with her.

She sees
the embodiment of perfection
a soul bright gold
seeking a lover's impression
a confidant to quarter
her every thought, every recollection
so she pleas God, please
let there be a connection
with him.

And so they pass
mulling in mutual isolation
over fortunes unfulfilled
for a moment's hesitation
over lives of love lost
for lack of fate's cooperation.

Dear Kristina,
Your name is still tattooed on my left *** cheek.
I remember how it curled your lips
like the cursive script it's written it.
You called me an idiot
every time I made you look at it
My mother said the same thing,
except without the smile.
I guess somebody should have explained to me
the permanace of drunken whims
or ****** friends who giggle too much,
but **** it.
And *******.
I burned your birthday cards and ticket stubs
to bands that haven't sounded good since October 25.
I loved you.
I threw away your black high school track team sweatshirt
and those little ducky magnets with Italian words coming out of their beaks.
I pretended they were funny
just because I knew you felt lame buying them for yourself.
But I'm still
looking for pieces,
thinking in circles,
wasting hours
trying to
dream of
anything
but
you.
See you never,
Michael

Dear Kristina,
You spent a lot of time on your knees for me.
I liked that.
But we started falling apart
when you started standing up.
God gave us with voices that yell in permanant ink.
I forget what straightened your knees
and made you pick up a pen,
but I do remember
how tall you became.
I admire you now.
You learned far earlier than I
that the hardest thing in the world
is to stand up to those we love
and I couldnt deal with change.
You were a handful of quarters
when I had holes in my pockets.
Maybe I let you slip away
but maybe
I never should have put you there in the first place.
It's safe to say I'm over you,
so I feel safe saying
I'm sorry.
Sincerely,
Michael

Dear Kristina,
I lost your address a long time ago.
This letter will never leave the spiral of this diary.
I couldn't remember what you looked like today,
and have forgotten most of the things you ever said
but I still hold on to the things you taught me.
I've worn a ring for many years now,
and though my aging arms
have long embraced another woman,
and waved goodbye this year
to a son standing on the steps of a college dormitory,
your name is still tattooed on my left *** cheek:
living, ******* proof
that no matter how hard we scrub,
the fingerprints of those that touch our souls
can never be erased.
Love,
Michael

You could bring me to my knees,
still can,
when you danced, flitter feet,
across my ****** mind
(Have you done this before?)
When we touched, my mind blushed
at what might happen
(still might?)
"This isn't a good idea." "No."
Still isn't.

Then, I hated the way you lingered,
still do,
when you hid behind every synapse
chasing way venturous new thoughts,
but different now.
The world calls my attention,
you sit, laughing, mocking,
still lingering.