| The Burn, the Late, the Latter and the Saints. |
[we talked for
12 hours past dawn.] |
[08.27.05]
Allow me to introduce you to our host,
Albertus Magnus.
'Twas a fine affair, to be sure:
the guests arrived in single file;
the wine was poured, the study was filled.
Our formal gowns,
expensive shoes.
This was not your mother's promenade.
We gnawed on chairlegs and swallowed pillow innards,
spat on the curtains, gutted the sofas.
(Ring around the rosie,)
We took our main course on the surface of the piano;
the beast was raw, its breathing was shallow.
(pocket full of posie,)
We sucked fat out of cannisters,
arsenous oxide off of the floor.
The basement was flooding
and the attic was collapsing.
(ashes,)
In every bedroom and guest room,
the beds were ablaze.
(ashes,)
[The children were screaming,
they wouldn't stop crying,
they wouldn't sleep.]
Dessert was served promtply at noon-oh-three,
draining our veins until they were dry.
One by one, dozing off on our reflections;
the shattered mirrors blanketing the floor.
One by one, the doors start to close.
Seatbelts, no smoking;
please remain seated at all times..
"And baby, we've got front row tickets to Hollywood:
The bestdressed massacre of the twentyfirst century."
this is your final boarding call..
(we all fall down.)
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
12 hours past dawn.] |
[08.20.05]
And this is the day i take all of my pain
outside
and scream it towards the sky.
Flood of emotion
draining through my lungs in
the most sincere love letter
you'll never receive.
And know,
that when my voice betrays my anger,
i'm still screaming.
(These are not tears.)
Pity for the sky,
and the fury it will be forced to withstand.
And there's an echo?
Curse the sky,
as it hurls my frustration back at me.
(Please do not confuse these with tears.)
Wordless,
and ceaseless.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
18 hours past dawn.] |
[07.28.05]
Regards
from NewYork'sfinest
lacking
the accent and upscale taste.
[i am lacking,
i am a fraud.]
i am bitter;
i live in constant fear of my future.
[Betrothed to a coma,
my hands lie with indifference.]
i am wretched;
i could cry for a week
and forget you in two.
[i am what you see me as.
i am refusing to grow up.]
I am elite.
In my expensive clothing,
behing a superior facade.
[My name would be anyone's suicide note.]
i am a lie.
i am your faceless dirty laundry.
i will put this off
no longer.
My disgust is continental.
i am nothing more than a suggestion.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
17 hours past dawn.] |
[07.28.05]
A constant composing
of letters in my head
beginning 'Dear Love' and signed
'Love Always'..
and you see,
they're all addressed to you.
All of the right things
in the right places
written neat and orderly
with a steady hand.
With a sincere hand.
But
carefully hidden;
the well disguised in-between lines
that say everything else.
[it's there if you need it;
you can feel it,
if you want it.]
it's just SMALL TALK
marinated in the things that haunt me;
depicting my inability to make it through a day
in one piece.
How;
when someone says your name,
my fists clench,
my stomach drops..
my heart races,
my voice fails,
and i hate myself for being so pathetic.
They say how i'll want to break something.
i'll want to scream until my lungs bleed,
tear off my skin wherever you may have touched me.
But i won't utter a word.
They say how i'll want to cut out my eyes,
never have to see your face again;
pack up and move three countries
to any direction,
drink myself to oblivion.
Only, i don't drink..
All in the knowledge
that if i were to see you just then...
they say how i would melt like a schoolgirl
and chase you
and steal a kiss
first chance i had.
Could you decipher my letters?
The hidden messages of my secret torment;
do you know what it's like
living with your heart in a vice?
(i said i would wait forever,
but not like this.
i didn't think it would be like this.)
A reproacheful look,
a slap on the wrist.
Collect myself.
And well on my way to being done with you.
BUT EVERYTHING REMINDS ME OF YOU;
YOU JUST WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE.
This next song..
the vicious cycle starts again.
And i'm repeating myself,
repeating myself,
repeating myself.
Can you get this?
it's all there
with the post-script.
There's always a PS,
whether you see it or not..
both painful and sincere.
[Good thing i'm not the type who writes poetry.]
Hello,
i'm beginning to hate you.
P.S. I LOVE YOU.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
17 hours past dawn.] |
[07.18.05]
You don't talk enough.
[How selfish of you,
hiding your voice from me;
the way you string your words together.]
Leaving too much room for interperetation,
knowing full well
i'm no good at thinking.
[Your silence misinformed me.
i thought you said you were through with me.]
if you could simply say what's on your mind,
[And what do i make of
the words you abbreviate,
the questions you leave unanswered-
sentences you leave hanging?]
i wouldn't have to suffocate;
holding my breath for a response,
dying for closure-
just to know whether you heard me or not.
i wouldn't have to discern between
your boredom and your concern.
Fancy knowing when my words are a nuisance.
[Oh,
i'm sorry.
i thought you said you loved me.]
How selfish of you..
keeping me guessing like this.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.17.05]
There's lipstick on your collar, boy.
Brightest shade i've ever seen.
She's got your name,
boy,
somewhere in the list tatooed on her chest.
[She ain't nobody's sweetheart..]
Did you miss me?
While you were sleeping in
someone's eyes;
While you were sleeping in
someone's mind;
While you were sleeping in
someone's life..
[Contrary to the ring on her finger;
the ring on your finger..]
Boy, you wear too much makeup
on your clothes.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.12.05]
it's only been two days,
yet i feel so..
it's not like
this has never happened before;
so why should this be different?
[You expect your phone to ring?
And you check your messages too often.]
Barricading myself in
with my self-pity
and burning insecurities;
i hear you're sleeping fine.
[That's a lie.
i haven't heard from you at all.]
Fish a pen from a sea of bandages.
it only makes sense,
i suppose.
Would i be wrong to presume
this is what you'll do for a living?
[My;
now that's talent.]
i've tried turning the tables
but i can't seem to find any edges.
Can i have my heart back?
That's it,
the one you're standing on.
Such manners;
so you see why
i can't find it in me to hate you.
Thank you for avoiding my calls.
You've always been so silent..
i can hear you singing;
taunting..
Just step out of the elevator, baby,
and listen to the doors close.
Everything is going to be alright.
You're unwell and fragile,
and nothing will ever be the same again.
Everything is going to be alright.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.09.05]
That’ll be the day
when we both realise
just how right our mothers were.
Until then,
i’ll imagine it’s me
you’re looking at like that.
Wish with my eyes closed
and take your sarcasm literally.
Until then,
i don’t have time for
fake accents or license plates..
Nothing but empty bottles
and the comfort of a bed slept in
for three straight days.
Until then,
frozen pizzas and the search
for romance;
phone calls from a bathtub..
THEY’LL NEVER FIND US HERE.
This has been way too easy.
You’ve accepted this all too readily..
Your silence is unwavering,
and it’s driving me insane.
Doesn’t it make you wonder
just how many are written about you?
Quite possibly,
none at all.
If you ever find out,
let me know.
Let me know.
Let me know if i'm ever on your mind.
Let me know when things stop going your way.
Until then,
I’ll be as silent as you are..
With three dollars in my pocket
I know I’ll never spend.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.08.05]
You said “just say the word”,
but i couldn’t think of the right one.
And why is it
that you only open your eyes
when i start walking away?
What beautiful eyes you have.
Death
to all the lights in the city;
yet i’ve never felt so exposed.
i can hear you breathing.
You sound calm enough..
But then again,
you always were a bad liar.
MY, AND YOU CAN BE SO CONVINCING.
i’m sorry,
has this gotten too personal for you?
Will you stop reading
and burn everything that reminds you of me?
“Just say the word”,
but i guess it wasn’t the right one.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.08.05]
You’re a great actor;
but so full of grace
when you bruise.
And it’s a shame how your every move
is in acquiescence to someone else’s requisition..
[Have i left you speechless?]
It’s as if you were born without words,
yet you have such a way with them.
What a way you have with words
when someone hands them to you.
(MY PLANE LEAVES IN AN HOUR)
Have i really done all the talking?
(AND I’M WAITING FOR YOU TO TELL ME TO STAY.)
And i keep reminiscing
over exchanges we’ve only ever had in my head.
THAT’S how i would have said it..
if only you’d been around to listen.
i have a feeling i’ve lost this round,
unfair;
you never explained the rules.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.07.05]
Tell the babysitter
she wears too much makeup
and her silence
isn’t welcome here.
She hasn’t been sleeping well,
and she doesn’t eat..
Someone let her know
that this air of propriety
isn’t fooling anyone.
[Funny, how you can see the chemicals..]
Ask the nanny
why she’s always late.
Her clothes are too tight,
and you wonder why
these boys are so lost.
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.07.05]
i apologise,
i missed what you said.
The words got lost
somewhere in your accent.
Oh,
now that’s comedy.
Maybe if your words
weren’t so fragile.
Give me half a minute..
Let me pack and we’ll
leave the country together.
‘Hate’ is a strong word;
and i've never seen such a struggle
carrying one's own burdens..
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| UNTITLED |
[we talked for
14 hours past dawn.] |
[07.07.05]
Your eyes were the poems
i never penned
for fear of doing them
some great injustice.
The paintings
i’ve burned
for being too beautiful to claim as my own.
Your lips were the unlit cigarettes
in a smoke-filled room,
and the depth of a whiskey bottle
after a lifetime of sobriety..
And in your fingertips,
all the years you’ve wasted
before recalling the unvoiced pleas you heard
from your position on the concrete.
You can stop looking here..
The irony was left in the title.
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