It doesn't matter how much people try to include me or how much I include myself. I'll always be different to everyones eyes. I'll always be an outcast, an outsider...

Does my computer dream?
Is this puzzle what it seems?
What are a computer's dreams?
Maybe dreams exist in this machine,
The outsider in my room,
Designed to make us feel like fools,
Addictions seductive,
Hitech savvy so productive,
A puzzle, so it seems,
Does a computer ever dream?

Would anyone really care,
If I vanished without a trace?
If my screams echoed the hallways,
If briny tears stained my face?

Everyone is bonded so strongly,
How can I join these ties?
Will I always be an outsider,
Seen as nothing more than a fly?

What am I doing wrong?
Can you help me understand?
Do I not deserve your kinships,
What’s wrong with who I am?

*I want for someone to care,
To catch me if I fall.
Because if no one cares about you,
Do you exist at all?

Breakfast
The morning spins lazily
out of the Universe’s black eye
like a surveillance camera
******* my paranoia.
I eat a small breakfast
of toads and do my coughing
exercises.
In the cellar the flesh
incinerator purrs for dinner
and is only satisfied with
one species of rare mammal.
My exotic summer guests,
strewn on the floor
like pickup sticks,
are becoming a burden,
so I toss one in the furnace
and hazily return to bed.

The Dullard

A well intentioned
Comrade dropped
Off a basket of learning
Tools for my niece and nephew.

Among the colorful array
Of big red dogs
And purple dinosaurs
I find a book titled
"God Thought of It First."

I paused to consider
Pernicious Anemia,
Gary, Indiana, Republicans,
The Ford Pinto...

I sure never would
Have thought of it.

The End Times

Repent, the zealot dinner guest, invited
For purposes of theological correctness, chides.
Repent, and sin no more, he advises, for the end is near.

But isn't that like asking a carnivore to turn vegan
Moments before the serving of  a pampered calf's liver
I ask

he takes special care in the fall of a sparrow
The zealot replies, eyeing me as I set
My peas to one side with my fork.

Yes, but it was just that one, I retort.

His first.

i'm just an outsider
who secretly take a peek
asking for to be known
i just need you know

could you look at me?
just for sprinkle stardust on my eyes
let me hold your hand
just for a while

Come For Me

Come for me
In darkness
Like all cowards

Come for me
When I am starved
And deprived of
Comfort

Come for me when
I am crazed
For want
Of a woman's lips

Come for me
When my days
Have outlasted
The portion in my
Beggar's bowl

Come for me
When I have
Watched the mongrel
Suffer in the ditch

Come for me on
Lorcas's birthday
And Akhmatova's
Wedding night
Or Bastille Day

Come for me
In my darkness
And I will show
You how
I write poetry