losing a bedroom

in the bottom drawer of my childhood dresser
beneath some stuff wrapped in tissue paper
i found my yellow sony walkman;
an artifact like those dug up in farmer’s fields.

during high school i strung it up
on my headboard with elastic bands
and fell asleep listening
to albums like “psalm 69″ or “bleach”.

….

my parents are in the next room
getting ready for bed;
whispering about michael jackson specials
river rocks, shrubs and mango ice cream.

the case snaps together, music plays.
tonight i will stuff it under a pillow
and listen
to suppress sounds of lumbering movement

things exist, if only
in our minds,
for as long as our minds
can hold them.

a maintained path is easier to walk;
a pair of worn shoes are more comfortable.

venn diagrams

analogies remind me of things i would rather be doing.

the kamasutra is like instructions for assembling a desk.

apples and oranges can be compared it just takes a bit of thought.

the colour blue confuses me. i don’t know if i like it for who i am or what i am.

a semi-colon, when placed well, makes a sentence more emotional.

eggs and cheese and bread; the sum of their parts.

i am not sure which came first but it doesn’t really matter.

i don’t mind that cherries have pits, it just seems fair.

during high school i always wore a purple acrylic sweater

now i wear a green wool one; not much changes.

now i only hear your voice on the radio

we spent so much time drinking
and throwing knives at the wall

when i wake up on a couch
i expect you in the rocking chair.

a black board, a suitcase; a curtain for your liver.

we all went for sundaes
and milkshakes.
some of us thought
we would die drunk,
some thought
we would never
die at all.

after words
is only ever
just
that.
this is all I have ever known.

days out, with friends

i compare my friends feet
with my own when they
wear flip-flops
or go around barefoot.

i can’t help but think
straight toes look
like they belong to apes
or other mammals
that can hang upside down.

but when i sit
i tuck my feet under my butt
or cover the crooked toes
of one foot
with the other.

days out, with friends

when i sit in my bathing suit
at the edge of a pool
i suck in my belly,
run my hand over it
and then release it back
to its natural shape.

How to be a better North American

How to Treat Road Rash
How to Get Rid of Ants
How to Cook Chicken
How to Stop Being Jealous
How to Make a Yo Yo
How to Evaluate a Credit Card Offer
How to Do Once a Month Cooking
How to Safely Turn off the Pilot Lights on Your Gas Stove
How to Sew and Turn Narrow Shoulder Straps
How to Pack a Pickup Truck for Safe Travel
How to Make a Unicorn Pop up Card
How to Power Nap
How to Give a Cat Medicine
How to Make Coffee Flan
How to Write a Self Evaluation That Gets You Promoted
How to Curl Hair
How to Make a Silk Pleated Evening Bag
How to Solve a Rubik’s Cube
How to Break Up with Someone
How to Politely Turn Down a Drink From Your Host
How to Skip Rocks
How to Get a Canceled TV Show Back on the Air
How to Get Kissable Lips
How to Handle Fame

the center of everything

standing on a street corner
with the red hand flashing,
beckoning me forward
and my destination forgotten.

if the destination is remembered
or a point of departure apparent
the center of everything
moves ahead or is left behind.

being is trapped in the forgetting
and everything in the being forgotten.
the hand flashes,
and i don’t know.

caustic reasoning
melts the heart
which is why
when i say
“”
i’m really
saying
“i’m so jaded it’s sick.”