Sleep Deprived Rodent Rant 2008

sometimes I can feel my hands slipping off the handle,
and my fingers snapping off the steel bar
one by one,
each with a sweaty squeak.

and yet EVEN THEN...
there in the throes of lunacy,
i cannot shake the feeling
that i'll never find the ground under my feet,
because i've never been grounded to begin with.

i have no idea what the ground feels like.

sometimes I wish my mind was less cluttered,
and I was just a big ol'
PAUNCHY SQUIRREL

with only one goal pounding through my being:

COLLECT MOUTH-WATERING ACORNS.

ahhhh, to wake up
wanting ACORNS and ONLY ACORNS
like fat kids
want butter beans.

wait...

scratch that.

not butter beans.

like fat kids want
MARSH MELLOW DINOSAUR EGGS.

ahh yes, to surrender to instinct completely.

the equanimity
of a pitch black mind
following
the bolt pistol.

i suppose even squirrels are
stuck with the mind mess, though.

they don't just think about acorns.

no ma'am.
that's only a romantic cavity we artists
desperately WANT squirrels to FILL.

The harsh reality of the world is:
Squirrels are NOT cartoons.

They are not simple and innocent.

no ma'am.
squirrels attack old people and children
and violently fuck everything they see.

(even dirty, old, grey shoes by the side of the road,
covered in dryer lint).

squirrels zip around like
retards on acid,
constantly reacting
to every jerk of the world.

sadly, they too have hard boiled eyes
and wet-towel-minds,
rigged with springs,
taut with tension,

and filled with triggers, cyphers,
and empty actions
they will never understand.

My Reflection

this morning i woke up, opened the door, and looked in the mirror
and the man i saw looking back at me was different than i remember
he was a lot older
he seemed sad
he was dressed in blue
he had a large satchel flung around his shoulder
and his arm was protruding past the reflection plane
and he was slapping a handful of letters in my face
and he was saying:
"hey stupid... hey... hey man... take your mail... hey...
your box is full... take this... it's your mail... take it damn it...
there's no room in your box."

i refused his offer

"no way," i said, "i'm not gonna take that mail!
it's all just grocery store news and low finance rates!
there's not a single personal letter in there!"

with a smirk he held up a postcard

"you're not fooling me," I said, "that postcard was laser printed to
APPEAR as if it were hand written! look at who it's from! A DENTIST.
i don't know anybody named DENTIST."

angry and tired, he set the mail down on my stoop and
walked over to the next house

i have such a weird reflection

i need to wash that mirror

bowl of fruit

There are people out there that hang pictures on their wall
that mean NOTHING
to them. These are the people I have
a hard time talking to.

after the fall

she cut her tooth on the counter
when she slipped on a wet spot
and sent everything
she held dear
into flight.

and for a brief moment,
she could actually see
the days spin down
like whirly birds.

right there in front of her.

a thousand twisted memories

covering her tracks.

my goodness they passed so quickly.
violently, even.

like icy wind.

and it was during this time
that she watched
her friends
come and go.

even her best friends.

disappeared in front of her.

and
as
the
days
spun
d
o
w
n

faster and faster and faster

she began to change
into

someone unrecognizable
to herself.

cannot sleep tonight.

I can't sleep tonight.
It feels like there's something burning in my eyes.
Or maybe it's in the back of my mind?

Once again, I don't know who I am tonight.
I tell ya, if my childhood spirit were to see me now,
he probably wouldn't know either.

I've been driving and walking for hours now.
Down by the bridges.
Down near the south part of town.
Stopping by the house just to sit down for a minute,
and then get up
and do it all over again.

I'll probably drive all night tonight.

Too restless to sit still.
Too crazy to be moving for too long.

I do like the night.
I used to be scared of it as a kid.
But I've grown to love its peaceful smother.

I like squinting and watching the street lights pass.
Feels like I'm flying through space,
passing through blurry
smears of stars.

Being alone like this,
forces you to find love in the strangest places.
In the cracks.
In the puddles.
In the memories.

In the details.

You make do with what you got.
And do whatever it takes to survive.
Even if it means,
soaking in the streetlights,
and loving the lonely side of life.

freeze ray

he threw up his hands
but it did no good.

threads of sun
still made their way through the window,
feathering his fingers.
feathering her eyes. 

and it was there
in the white of the flare

that along with his own body
he watched his paramour disappear.

he had met her in that very same place
only a year ago.

and now,
they were side by side
as the grate of the world above them
shredded their tread

leaving them with the pinprick realizations

that their hands would not close,
their legs would not bend,

and their ability to
fight the world
had been
lost
completely.

and so they were left

frozen.

there in the sunlight.

together
with nothing

but a breath
of dust to spin.