the worst part of any wound
is receiving it,
don’t let anybody
lie to you,
including
yourself.

the pain is only as bad
as the knife
is sharp
and
while
you think you’re never
going to forget,
you will.

faster than you’d think
you’ll start filling your head
with new thoughts
of the new adventures
you are having
and the new stories
you are writing
every day.

so don’t let pain get to you,
if you don’t die
then you will
get better
and the pain will pass soon,
it’ll pass quicker
then you could
believe.

enjoy what you have
when you have it
and when don’t have it anymore,
take a deep breath,
close you eyes,
and really let it
go.

it’s a whole lot easier than
you ‘d think.

fortune-telling is a load of horse-****
but I don’t think seeing into the future
is impossible

take this little moment:
it’s 11:59 on new years
the count-down is happening
thirty-two, thirty-one, thirty,
and my mother is taking photos
and my dad is trying to pour champagne
and still the numbers dwindle
eighteen, seventeen, fifteen,
and I’m sitting on a high stool
with my girlfriend next to me
and the final count-down is coming
but the glasses are lined up
and my mom is still *******
with her camera
and even as we yell out
three, two, one,
we’re not ready

after the ball hits the ground
I’m reaching over and trying
to find my girlfriends lips
and also reaching for my
champagne
time slows down
I haven’t found either yet
my eyes are closed
celebration blares
from the TV

I find the glass
with the tip of my fingers
and it tips over
shattering
sparkling gold
spills over the counter-top
and I never found her
lips

I swear
feel hot blood in my face
look away from everyone

we cleaned up,
wiped up the broken glass
and the liquor with a rag
and moved on

eighteen hours later
I’m still wondering what
it means

an omen?
maybe

eventually life must go from
future to present tense

she didn’t want me to go
not again
not this time
lay with me she begged
and I’d smile
and say
but I have to
I have to
you know I do
and she would nod
in agreement
but then ask me to stay again
and I’d smile even bigger this time
and kiss her on her fragile lips
and feel in her breath
how badly she wanted me
to stay
and then I would stay
for another half hour
or so
and then I’d tell her
that I really needed to go
but I could tell that
she didn’t want me to go
ever again

a hush fell over the universe
those Christmas eve nights
when we would toddle through
the snow, up to the tiny house
where the rest of my family
had already gathered and begun
celebrating

it was in these quiet nights
that I understood everything
I needed to about our existence;
that it was fragile, that is was
insignificant, and that it was
unavoidable

though I could hear nothing
and see nothing, I could feel
the entirety of the world roll
away through that darkness

there was so much to do come
the morning, but for now, we
had to reunite with the others
and celebrate the two-thousand
something birthday of some
desert-dwelling hobo

a Merry Christmas to you,
dear reader, I hope you too
have received gifts as good
as this

there was a boy
who got all he ever wanted
one day,
all of a sudden,
out of
nowhere

and then he sat there
with his car
and his house
and his job
and his wife
and he thought:
now what?

and his wife told him
to have kids
and so they did
but when the kids
were born and
grown and
gone
he turned to his wife again
and said:
now what?

and his wife told him
to retire and move to florida
so he retired after
thirty-five years at his company
and moved to a shack
across the street from the beach
(because he couldn’t afford
a house on the beach)
and as he sat one night
looking out at the sun setting
he would turn, again,
to his wife and ask:
now what?

and she told him
to just enjoy all that he had
all that he had done
to look back on his life
and smile
and so he
did

but before bed that night
he turned to his wife
and asked her with all
earnest:
now what?

and she told him
to go to bed
because that’s all there
is to do right
now

and that stuck with him
it was all he could think about
he stayed up thinking about it
all night in fact
and when his wife woke up
she found him out on the front porch
sitting in a plastic chair
watching the sun
come up

she didn’t think anything of it
and didn’t say anything about it
but something had changed in him
something that took him three weeks
to figure out
because that is when
he turned to his wife
one last time
and asked:
now what?

and she told him to answer
his own **** question
for once

this shocked him
and made him angry
so he barked back
that she’d always
had an answer before
where were they now?
where were all those things
to be doing now?

she didn’t know
and his yelling brought tears
to her eyes so he left the house
and she sat their crying
for a bit until
she could pick herself up
and go work on her knitting
until he returned

the boy drove through the sea-side town at twilight
and he could look into the bars and see
dozens of young people drunker than sailors
singing songs completely off key
and genially enjoying whatever
they were doing right then

the boy then drove to the pier
and parked his car ****-eye
across three spots
and got out and walked
across the rickety planks
to the end of that bridge
to nowhere

there he looked out towards the darkened sea
and he could see nothing

not a ship
or a lighthouse
not a buoy
or a feature in the
sky

and there he stayed until the dawn
enveloped him and other souls
began to inhabit the pier

he returned to his car
pulled it out from across three parking spots
drove it out of the parking lot
away from the town
and out towards his shack
across from the ocean

once home
his wife came to him
saying she was worried sick
saying she could barely sleep
saying where were you?
oh god, where were
you?

nowhere
he said
I was nowhere
and for the first time
I finally felt like there wasn’t anywhere else
to go

what do you mean by that?
his wife questioned

I don’t know
he responded
I really don’t
know

I write about us
for the same reason
every writer
has written
about
us

because we are tragic
and we are helpless
and we are victims
of the merciless fates
and we are depressing
and unbelievable
and astonishingly
sad

but we also are happy
and we are smiling
and we laugh at the world’s
attempts to destroy us
and we are joyful
and laughing
and so amazingly
elated

we are wayward souls
destined from the dawn of creation
to wander in search of each other
and if this sounds too fantastical
then I understand
because I, too, cannot
believe it

but know
that beyond my calculating stare
I also find all of this too amazing
to assume it all happened by
chance

though this universe
will march onward whether
we find each other’s arms
or not
it is good to know that
we have
because it gives things
a happy ending
doesn’t it?

that two of these tortured lives
can find their way to each other
and be rid of their strife
if not rid of their sin

let this gospel not torture our lives
but know that I write about us
because there is nothing better
to write about

for life,
in all her wisdom,
has declared that humanity
shall strive forever for
those that we love
and that every part of our small
and insignificant lives
shall be dedicated to that higher purpose
whatever form it might
take