Relative Value

 

under the bridge
a breeze blew up
and stirred the papers

where i had written
the words that i birthed
i don't own anything
i mean of any value
if i did i would
sell it drink it up

i have a twenty
year old van
that i live in
and get around

but last night

nearly sending them scattered
across the filthy parking lot

you would have thought
a thief came by
and tried to
steal my child

i grabbed and
reached spilling
my drink as
i caught them

what the hell

sitting in a doorway
downtown drinking
smelling like the bottom
side of a saddle
i smile wondering
what the hell
happened


i was pony boy
i was james fucking dean
i was johnny cash and
spun out steve mcqueen
i frown wondering
what the hell
happened

Forbidden Fruit

Eden was wonderful.

At first glance,

I only wanted to know

her, eternally.

She seemed careworn,

distracted, enveloped

by hurts past.

Her hair, dark and short,

framed her face

in a way that made her
goth black eyes huge.

She showed me her
paintings, and I knew
she felt deeply.

In bed, after,
she was all knees
and elbows and
my side of the bed

like a child who
has had bad dreams.
I loved her, but


she needed the pain.