it’s dark
and the heater is humming
too loud for me to hear if she’s
sleeping soundly or
lying awake
waiting for
me

either way
she says my bed
is not nearly as comfortable
without me

that’s a good thing to hear
and it means a lot to me,
it really does,
but it doesn’t do much
to stave off the
doubts

who am I?
to have her sleep
in my bed like
we’re all
grown up

who am I?
to dive right back into love
after suffering through
such a catastrophic failure of love
that most sane men
would swear off it for
life

who am I?
to stare into her eyes
and pretend I am good
enough for
her

nobody is without fault
but I am with too many

greed, envy, shame,
wrath, hatred,
self-hatred,
sloth, guilt,
delusion, dishonesty,
lying,
and a laundry list
of pettier sins

while she has only been the victim
and had to cope the best she could

I know
she’s waiting for me
to work this
out

for me
to come to bed
with a fresh smile
and a clear head
full of love
and passion
and confidence

but I know none of those things
and I’m afraid it’s too late to learn
them

so don’t wait too long,
my dearest of all dears,
this old dog may well
be destined to die alone

take what you need from me
and fly off with a better soul

there was a red bird
sitting on a branch not ten feet
from my porch
and I thought
to take my pellet rifle
and shoot it dead right there.
it would be an accomplishment,
taking calm and precision,
and it would leave an impact on this world
but not too big of
one.

that red bird
begged of me though,
reminding me of my mortality,
how someone else could take their pellet rifle
and aim their sights down on my chest,
ending me, just as I could end that
bird.

so I sat inside
and watched that red bird
from the window of room.

I let him live, and realized
I had accomplished just as much
and yet nothing at
all.

there’s a heart
grown heavy
laying in bed
trying to wake
up

453 times he’s said
to himself
“wake up”
but it’s only putting
him back to sleep,
a hypnosis
untended
or fate that cannot
be escaped?

wake up he says for
the 454th time
but his eyes stay shut
and he can hear birds
chirping their bird songs
outside of his
window

he can feel the weight
of his existence:
each social expectation,
each biological demand,
just another pound on
his shoulders
but
he’s been down
on the ground for a while
now

the heavy heart
prays to be
emptied

wake up, he says,
and counts 455
wake up, he says,
and counts 456
wake up he says
and counts 457
wake up, he says,
and counts 458
wake up, he says,
and goes back to
sleep

the days will keep coming
the problems will keep mounting
the buildings will keep crumbling
the hatred will keep building
and
the rope will keep thinning
the laughs will keep dampening
the eyes will keep shutting
the cities will keep burning
and
the clocks will keep ticking
the lives will keep ending
the bodies will keep piling
the meaning will keep hiding
and
the madness will keep growing
the arms will keep reaching
the lips will keep searching
the future will keep slipping
away

regardless of whether
you like it or not
things will keep moving
with you or not

I hurt my back yesterday
and it ached and ached
and ached today
so I laid flat on my back
and twisted myself
all around
but nothing made it
better.

I took some pills
and I took a nap
and had my girlfriend
rub on me
but still nothing made
it better.

I got angrier and angrier
and angrier still,
at this aching
in my back,
so I flailed about
until I couldn’t anymore
and now I still hurt
but it’s been so long
that I forget what feels like
exactly.

I twist myself once more
and feel no relief,
so I turn back around,
slouch into my chair,
give into it,
and turn on the
television.

it is the nature of dogs to sleep
it is the nature of rocks to crumble
it is the nature of the sky to be blue
it is the nature of the day to be long
it is the nature of the car to break down
it is the nature of the tree to grow upwards
it is the nature of hands to seek hands
it is the nature of birds to sing songs
it is the nature of hearts to beat
it is the nature of rivers to flow
it is the nature of roads to go onwards
it is the nature of suns to beat brows
it is the nature of worms to burrow
it is the nature of tops to turn
it is the nature of grass to be dew-covered
it is the nature of the earth to be hard
it is the nature of the siren to blare
it is the nature of the eyes to roam
it is the nature of the shelf to hold
it is the nature of hammer to build
it is the nature of a river to roar
it is the nature of a voice to whisper
it is the nature of the book to yellow
it is the nature of paper to burn
it is the nature of the blanket to warm
it is the nature of the arms to comfort
it is the nature of the family to challenge
it is the nature of the breakfast to fill
it is the nature of nations to bicker
it is the nature of floors to creak
it is the nature of gods to laugh
it is the nature of man to laugh too
it is the nature of the mind to wonder
it is the nature of the body to fear
it is the nature of life to consume
it is the nature of all else to oppose
us

rightfully so
we were to be fearful
in the days
when tigers
roamed the
night

but now,
with our computers
and our Big Mac’s,
is there anything else
we really need to
fear?