this is the future
the end

the future was the children
but we end them
because school
is so important
when half of them can't read

food and water 
become scarce
humanity dies

for the economy
for airlines

so much confusion
or so they pretend

these lies by omission
kill us all


there won't be anyone
left to cremate anyone
there won't be expensive coffins
or funerals with finger sandwiches
in the basement of churches

just grief 
and death

hello 2022
​hello chaos

don't forget to get
your booster
that your kids aren't eligible for

because watching your kids
die is on your bucket list
if you are a cold hearted psychopath

think of the economy 
those cruise ship stocks
the airlines are suffering
while you bury
everyone you have ever loved

remember
that the news will
only report that 
this was the year of sweatpants

listening to leonard cohen
isn't enough
as i tumble down
this rabbit hole
the world's destruction
is the opposite of
the world's fair

there is no rose in my teeth
there is no one to stand in my way
i watch the world fall
a house of cards
so creased
someone found them
in a moldy attic
and wondered why
someone saved them at all

we all die
listening to old records
in a kitchen
with a stained formica table
the marks of a pairing knife
tell tale hieroglyphics
someone cut apples here
that you never ate

this is the apocalypse 
and your fingers smell like mildew
from trying to find hope in the attic

you light free gas station matches
just for something to do
while your own light is dying

the only one left
beside you is your dog
who licks low sodium spam
out of a can

you were too depressed to
walk him
amongst the dead bodies
that line the street

you wonder why you gave up smoking
drinking
all those people you loved
still left you alone

this virus 
has forgotten to kill you

you read old journals
written in diners 
when you believed in a future
while playing with a filthy salt shaker

the shake of your head
is a eulogy
to stupidity



​

on this blue night

Joan Didion smokes
cigarettes in the dark

her typewriter
click clacks
as she
pulls the clouds down
around her

it is always night
here

she wears her grief
like stars

her daughter
her husband
have been waiting

this constellation
is a family again

death
just a warm manuscript
that tastes of bourbon

she dances
in a black leotard

tossing her bones
like dice
​into the ether




​

 grief
hidden beneath
worn smiles

lies gifted to me
long ago

my childhood cat
chokes on silver tinsel

the dead surround me
their message on repeat
no one will tell you what you need
to know until it is too late

it is too late

the angel of death
writes on my skin

a love letter of loss
clawed in cursive

his scythe is 
a fountain pen
ink as good as blood

the key to the red door
is beyond the self

Azrael 's dark cloud
whispers
bloom in a sky
without stars
 
i dream about
empty apartments
furniture broken for firewood

this ending is taking too long
let's begin again
i am planting the seeds
of destruction
tearing at roots too deep

follow me into the dark
the only place
to breathe

the only place
to close your eyes

sun is fly paper
moon is my reflection
in deep water

mirrors are portals
to other worlds

my sadness strings
maps to other dimensions

red yarn tied and tied again
this knot is my blood
this knot is my protection

memory is a wound
i pick at 

a rusty thumb tack
goes here

at seven i spit grapes seeds
on cement 
and the patterns told
me where to go next

there is nowhere to go
now
so i sit in the 
circle of the moon

those accidental demons
i conjured
while thinking of your lies
this hell that you 
bring

is nothing
to the hell that
i am going to bring you

the suffering my daughter
has endured for your lies

every lie you told is a demon that
rises up around me
i send them to you
an army 
that breaks you down

blind chaos 
is what you will get

tick tock
goes the time clock
until you are honest
your life will be
suspended
upended

sacrificing
our child for your greed
your lies
your con is over

surrender
or every nightmare
you ever thought about
will become real

​

it is one of those nights
where i want to dance 
with the dead
 memories
are just cards on the table
that aren't mine

i see a red glow 
on the stairs
i think it might be an angel
but is just this beat-nick girl
smoking a cigarette

she used to hang out in graveyards
and read poetry
now she is on my steps staring at me
through sunglasses
while i write

my dead muse for the night
flicks ashes on her jeans

the dead and i
get high on each other
dead alive
alive dead
yin yang

waking up is my downer
i live my life at night
the dead are my mourning

no need for a buddhist
just some dead guy
whispering in my ear
to let it all fucking go
i never listen

 he died at 
a jimmy buffet concert
i experience his death
it feels like going to 
the dentist

the beatnik girl who 
hung out in graveyards
is shooting up in my bedroom
and smiling
she died peacefully
in some street in san francisco

the last thing she saw
was the trails of an airplane
in the sky

she thought it was the tail 
of the cheshire cat
her last memory
was her mother 
reading her alice in wonderland

she smells like spring rain
and cigarettes

when you die
it is mostly fear
​and regret

the man with a thousand faces
is still lying

his lies are leaking 
around him like pus
yet still he scrambles
placating his wife
with fictional tales

everything costs a dollar
in his world
where all smiles are calculated
and a touch means buying him a house

he is willing to upend his daughter's life
her stable home
her school
for a few lies
he tosses around in his pocket like
change

my suicide
is another link on his chain
of lies
the joy he feels at 
nearly killing someone
is past the point of forgiveness

he is still hiding
not realizing the door is open
all his secrets will bleed into his
reality
finally
i can breathe
knowing that nothing is left unsaid
knowing that this ends

​is what i live for

i had a feeling
we were going to be
more than friends

i saw you when i was a child
i was alone
i had just scraped my knee
after crashing on my bike
i was picking concord grapes
off a bush
in a yard
where no one
looked out the window

i didn't know you would follow me
whisper to me in the dark
tell me the future 
for the rest of my life

i wished then i could close my ears
shoo you away like a fly 
but your scythe was in my hand
and i felt your cold breath on my neck

you want me to remember how
those grapes tasted
more sour than sweet
on that autumn day
when your hand
wrapped around my neck

i only leaned in because 
 i thought you were 
the wind
​