i still tucked her letter away
even if she managed to contradict
all of its contents.
a heroic feat.
maybe her best work.

On my last subway ride
I fixate on the plastic map that rims the gap above the exit.

My eyes follow from Ossington, west down the line two.
I stare with such detail.
If the subway weren’t so packed
maybe I’d steal that map for myself.
Put my hands on each corner
and pull out the edges from their holders.
Roll it up into my hoodie
and sneak out like I’d stolen a priceless jewel.
Too many people on the subway I thought, that’s why I won’t.

I take the 44 home from the subway,
and think about how ***** it feels.
How it wasn’t the storybook ending I imagined.
Where everyone hugs and maybe someone cries.
The sky was grey and I was running errands.

As I left for the train station early next morning
I thought about how I may never see these buildings the same way. You have to be in the city to see the buildings this way.
Looking out at the patios that riddle the downtown outskirt condo’s, each floors’ stacked on top of another.
How nice it must be to live so close to a skyline.
How nice it must be to stand outside and still miss the rain.

I really thought I found her

i can't wait until i have a room with a view.
to clear my head.
and watch the day come
over the trees.
sip a coffee with two hands,
tell my wife
how nice she looks,
when the sun shines through the window.

ive never been hungover
ive been drunk, but never
hungover. i just wake up fine like
nothing happened because
nothing happened i just drank. and what of it?

i drink water too. when i get home
ill swing the cupboards
open and try my best to find the
best cup. the only one
that can hold what will take me out of
the haze in my eyes.

//

i finally bought a painting for my apartment
it was small enough to take
home so i did. i
ran my hands all over my empty walls
felt the paint bumps in the drywall.
god, you could be anywhere. so i
put you in my room i kept you
for myself only my space can
feel like home now.

i had another writing class
above the pharmacy today.
we watched a movie about bank robbers.
and in our discussion our professor said

there is so much evil
in the world
i dont even wish
to understand it.

i dont know if i agree or not
i dont know if thats the right answer.

//

eighties ladies
spray their hair back
wipe the snow
off the mirror.
march on.
glitter and sparkles
can always make
a dead thing look alive.
right?
youth and marriage.
love and wonder.
age like bread
on the windowsill.

there's something
worth loving
in here.

A year ago today, I sat on my bed.
Singing love for a girl who would never reciprocate.
She sure liked to say she would though.

Today however, a new leaf.
I sat and laughed with friends, over sushi.
A new city.
A new mind.
Jokes and banter float as high
As the I love you's
That came back around to bite
Like cheques that bounce.

You only really learn from pain
And I've learnt a lot
In such a short time.
But I always wake up
Before a bad dream gets too real
So I'm not that worried.

i thought i saw a miracle
tonight.
i watched the moon disappear.
watched the bulbs fade out.

it flickered for a moment
and then its crescent faded into the black
behind it.
like it didn't deserve the spotlight
the attention.
i thought i watched the sun die
i thought i watched the moon die.

i looked around me frantically
i couldn't believe i watched the moon die.
no one else cared
no one said anything.

i watched the moon be reborn again

and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared
and no one cared

whoever said
that too much
of a good thing
isnt
a good thing,

clearly hasnt
spent enough
time
without one

i could really
go for too much
of a
good thing
right about now.

i am too aware of my own image to be who i am.


i dont know who i am


i shaved my beard off the other day.
ive never made a bigger mistake.
i look like a child.
i am a child.
i never want to look like a child.

my neck looks bigger
my face appears to be melting.
i guess thats what
was under all the wool.

i dont have the ***** to live like bukowski
and if i did
i wouldnt be bukowski anyway.

ill be honest in saying
i dont know anything
and the things i have learned
came at the expense
of something i thought i knew.
theres a knife in my stomach
two right hands around the grip
two lefts pointing blame at one another

ive never been
to this part of town
before.

second thought
ive never even been
to this town
before.

then why
does it feel
so ******* familiar

why do i remember
getting drunk in
that bar
chipping my teeth on
that curb.

i think the parts of me
that don't like me
stay here.
calling out for skin.
im freezing out here.

i havent been
warm in so
long

if i end up as a teacher
have i failed?
i pray nobody believes
in themselves like i do.

if he really knows how to do it
why
is he teaching me how to do it

am i an *******
because sometimes
i feel like the smartest person
in the room?

not about physics
or math
or anything really
but i just
know.

i cant explain it,
just that i know.
i dont expect
anyone
to understand.

i dont think im better
than anybody
im not.
just that im the only
me
i know
and i cant fathom
how that couldnt
mean anything.

a guidance counsellor
told me once
she was
surprised
i was doing so well
and i told her

you dont know anything about me


//

winona road
runs long and narrow.
a dame red bakery
fills the left side of the street
with smells of cinnamon and sugar things.
the floorboards creak
and the chairs wobble,
but the swoon of a welcome bell
still warm a familiar smile.

it has to be together
before it can fall apart.

eating the ****** weapon and
wearing the fur.
i have nothing to say so i ramble,
and think about what i should buy you for christmas
and how ill give it to you without
tripping the wires
you keep around me

somewhere between
misery and euphoria
i lay my sunken head.

the grass peaks out between her arms and her shoulders.

"lets stay here forever"

"why would we ever do that?"

I burn up easy
It's in my DNA.
I'm like Icarus's sun.

Or maybe
I'm more like Icarus's son
Hell bent on seeing hell
In front of me.
I don't believe anything unless
It's in front of me.
And I can taste it like food
And drink it like water.

I'm not Icarus
More like Sideshow Bob
Just helping the disaster move along.
Pushing the people I love into the fire.
Letting Daedalus turn his only son into a parable.

I do find it rather funny how quick one can forget
Something that felt oh so important.
The first day of school.
The score of a football game.
The sound of her voice.

Her melodies no longer play through my mind
My ears no longer perk up like a dog to the thought of her words.
I can’t hear her anymore.
And I can’t decide which side of the coin I’d rather be looking at.

bakers dozens of country miles
couldn't keep the drug out.
vinyl records and chalkboard elephants
gone with the wind.
with the run of a hand.

we never let the bread rise.
always kneading away,
putting out fires before they start
and missing the drought
in front of you.

the wind rattles my straw house,
so i feed the Wolf
to get some quiet.

i need virginia.
and so do you.

virginia is the flickering lights
of an emergency room vacation.

virginia is the bruise on your cheek
from a cafe seizure.

virginia is the moment you realized
you changed your favorite color, without ever asking yourself first.

virginia is understanding that nothing we do will ever change what will be.

virginia is your pink wet tongue frozen
to the telephone poll.

virginia is the moment at the funeral
when you realize you've never seen a dead body before.

virginia is all those times you stole lighters from the corner store
and all the times you never got caught.

virginia is the woman you sleep with, after you crash your car on the freeway.

virginia is who you call on the phone, when you think it's all over.

virginia is a story worth telling.
let it breathe.
let it breathe.
let it breathe

i burnt the roast on christmas day.

my loves sat in silent pain
waiting for my neck to crane.
summers night and winters rain
couldn't cook this ******* roast again

i cant believe i burned the ******* roast.

each of them had different reasons
to feel so **** upset this season
it never felt right to believe in
love that can feel so uneven

ive cooked this ******* roast before i dont know how i ****** it up so bad

these seconds will never pass
table breaks the hourglass
my wife she's a lovely lass
why didnt she cook the ******* roast instead

**** **** **** **** **** ****

a look of sadness on my face
anxious forks hit sides of plates
i look to my loves and say
im not sure there'll be roast today

how could you burn the ******* roast on christmas?

the wine was almost nearly empty
most of it from my aunt wendy
whose husband left when she was twenty
but she brought some new man lenny

who also drank most of the wine
and was also upset that i burned the ******* roast

i didnt drive all the way out here
just to drink a couple beer
i know it may not be premiere
but bring that ******* roast out dear

okay mom.

i went back to the kitchen to get the burnt ******* roast

i found my wife her head ashake
frowning down to my dismay
you burnt the roast on christmas day
we'll find the love in your mistake

she kissed me
i tasted the roast and it wasnt that bad

i mean, it was pretty bad
but it was still there.

all those chairs, a different person
neither in their finest version
let my love be a diversion
**** you from your introversion

i burnt the roast on christmas day
lets find the love in our mistakes

that i liked the song your
boyfriend made.
i don’t. its bad. it doesnt mean
he is bad, just the song is bad.

all the alcohol i “drank” and
all the times i got “****** up”
or “smashed” in between
the ages of zero and nineteen.
lies. all i knew was the sadness
of others, my neighbours magnum opus.
why would i ever touch a brush for
myself when i could remake something
we all agree is beautiful.

when you once told me that
if two people stand at opposite sides
of the room and close their eyes,
if they keep walking forward
they’ll kiss. and when it didn’t
work the first time i guided you
into my lips and you smiled like
the sun was in us in that moment.

is that so wrong

my head
is too big
to fit the helmet
thats supposed to protect me.  

i found out today that i am not immortal.

i still dont know
how to deal with
learning something
you thought you already knew.

i found out today that i am not immortal.

if i could
wear a mask
every day
i know that i would.

i found out today that i am not immortal.

if i could
do it my way
every time
i know that i would.

because i am always right
until someone points out
that im not.

my head is a beach where hope comes to flourish,
where the water is warm.
until someone reminds me
that they hate the beach
and i cant help but agree.

what a lonely life i live
to let myself drown thirsty.
to feel like god and
not believe in him.
to know love and
lose faith in it.
to be docile.
to be content
with contentment.

what a lie ive lived
my finest performance.
when the sheet does fall
i wont have disappeared.
the trick
is that nothing was really there
to begin with.

i have an affinity for cool **** and will spend the rest of my life trying
to explain how it feels to float.

and when i say cool **** i mean things that will make you swing the spotlight.

i finally have a night worth remembering and while im drunk in the uber, the driver hits two potholes.

they sync up to the kick-drums on the radio and i write that down so i never forget it.

but i never forget the things i write down, not because they're always there but because i gave them the time they deserved.

There's a parallel universe where I have abs
And cool hair.
Where I ride the bluest wave Back to shore.
Where I tell people to *******
Because I hit every ball
They ever threw at me.

Instead I give myself a mulligan.
And surf the green waves of the flatline.
And hum the same B flat
Until it sounds like
B

I watch the same white car drive by my window
Every day.
Each time, a little muddier.
Life is the most vicious of circles.
A whole structure of bells and whistles
Too deep under concrete
For our already ****** hands to dig up.

Is it truly a deja vu
If you're really seeing it again?

I lick clean the cold plate they serve revenge on.

The Devil is real
I made it breakfast.

I used to go for walks.
I'd sit on a park bench by the water
And watch the waves come in
Like they're supposed to.
I guess I found comfort in their consistency.
My legs would freeze
My ears would burn
But I wouldn't leave until I thought
I felt what I needed to feel
I understood what I needed to know.

I don't go for walks anymore.
This town is too small
And I'm too scared
I'll see you
Shotgun
In a car that isn't mine.

I've tried to bite the bullet.
They don't taste like bullets anymore.

dont talk about it
today
if you wont talk about it
tomorrow.

the day might change but we never do.
stuck in the mud
stuck in the mud
stuck in the mud

Black walls in a clear room.
The contents of a snow globe litter the carpet.
Plastic snow and a single reindeer
Unsheathed.
With nothing but shards of glass
And a rams horn
Left to chip the paint.

It's always the calm before the storm
But never after.
Restoring a home
Made from dampened wood
And bayonets
That look a lot like
Things you'd say.

Sitting passenger side
While your coworkers crack jokes
And for a second,
Nothing.
Just a chuckle,
A brief indulgence
Followed by a wave of anguish.
Call and response.
And you realize
That this is what moving on feels like.

I never once kept the door closed,
Despite everything that would make you think otherwise.
My arms tremble at the thought
Of pulling all this weight again.
But I was ready.
The things you do for love
Or what you thought love was.

Nothing says emotional stability like dollar store sleeping pills.
Inertia for a brain
I let it all pile up
Until I'm buried in snow like a cokehead fever dream.

I fell asleep on the high road
Waiting for you to run me over.

i met Sharon buying christmas trees
for a four bedroom house
full of college boys
that could barely afford to eat.

she said my name's Sharon
and im here to help you
make sure you don't split
these trees in half.

i barely caught a word
that Sharon said
got too busy
dancing in her eyes.

she smiled a bit and said
lets move along,
im sure we've got some trees left
that youll want to take home

i swear to god
it was the most beautiful thing,
she cut the whole tree down
before i could blink

she laughed and turned to me
and said that should do
i said theres no way in hell
i leave here without your name

she said my name's Sharon
and i already told you that.
but we can talk about that later
if you want.

just what i needed
a storm through my room.
my clothes
on different parts of the floor.
it was a mess before you rolled through.

she dances
sober
and smiles when she does it too.
its really a sight to see.