ive been waiting on the world to change.

I've been waiting on the world to change.
but You didnt.

It will always be the same.
the pain.

and my temper
that is always on the back boiler
bubbling

i turn the knob down
try and put it out

but you never fail to kneedle it
kneedling
and kneedling
til it pops

and i realize i cant stand you,
i cant stand you
i CANT FUCKING STAND YOU

i want to..
--go ahead keep screaming keep screaming

i want to SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEM.
BUT i hang up instead

yuou asshole.

Uncle Michael

I don't remember exactly what the ailment was
I had to be in junior high
maybe younger
I was legitmately sick
unlike the usual run around of fake coughs and
belly aches.

Technology is in sync with my biology
in adolescence during my adolescence
Sorry you're feline under the weather
I remember I was mesmerized by the cat with umbrella
We printed it on the dot matrix. Or maybe at that point
it was in color.
My memory tends to be black and white at times

Love Uncle Michael.

My first E-Card. I hung it up

And then I got better and i still had the
print out of the cat.

It was his turn next. He got sick
I remember exactly what the ailment was
His sister from California flew in
encology nurse.

I didn't see him the last two years
my Uncle Michael. No one did but Dave.
But everyone else, the chefs the musicians the artists
the friends
aunt Karen.

Kid germs. We were always sick.
We were a risk.
And eventually the print out was lost
in a shuffle of 2 dimensional things
tack holes left vacant where it hung

early morning, probably spring
i must have been 14.
The cat out by the garage had a litter
tiny writhing babys that would likely
get canabalized.

I collected them in blankets
but my sister was allergic
cried and cried and cried
outside the A&P with the
wild kitties.

So mom yells, its Uncle Michael on the phone
hes still got more hair than Dave
that was the half hearted joke.
So i tell him, the kittens
my kittens
how brokenhearted I was

Leave them to die. They eat the songbirds.
Its better off without them.
The beautiful songbirds in the morning
they eat them.
No one needs to save the kittens.

I got angry. I disagreed.
The conversation ended quickly
hand off the phone to one of the other
six kids. i was miffed.

That was the last time I talked to him.
I don't realize sometimes how much I miss him.

a man obssessed

Monty comes up to the desk
in my face
his buddy leaning over like he knew something
it wasnt pretty.

nonchalant at first,
Monty with the earrings
always a wingman
hes helpess

i could careless.

Monty with the smile
like a little boy
Oedipus complex, id guess
clinging to her any way he can

working out to see her
hoping it will work out
working out so he can
work it out

and all the while his friend
acknowledging he knows
he knows
Monty is a man obssessed.

and so then im straight with him
this is a place of business
a hangover from all the
word vomit.

yea i mighta said that.
doesnt mean i meant it
the truth is
you cant handle it

so im straight with him
and he gets heated
writhing in embarassment
click through the metal gates

pumps off the last month on the
bench press
shes not impressed
i hope he gets it.

morning drive

Woke up to start my day
452 am.
snooze
501
up. heart racing, imagining i slept in
it wouldnt be the first time

woke up to a rumpled brunette looking at me
still smelling like that 7.99 clairol that drenched the blond the night before.
stumble to my car
still smelling like that newcar smell.

navigate the way through blinking yellow and
slick pavement
grip the wheel still terrified of
slick pavement

like that time i tumbled
upside down
undercarriage over me
upside down
in the drivers seat
upside down
this life can be
upside down.
spinning
stopped
straight.
park the car.

ten minutes early.

im still proving something.

blonday

tell my friend i went for a walk the other day
down eighth street.I wish my shirt had more shirt to it
that my cutoffs were full legnth
that my lens was the only one who could see me.
ehhhh BLONDAY.
so orignial and fresh. yes.
let me make it through the cross walk
the honks, the whistles.
let me cross on green maybe. be daring.
so that i can get in your car with the expired registration
blondie wants to sleep with you.
for fucking serious.
calle ocho. strolling through with the blond pigtails
jean shorts.
camera with the lens that weighs as much as my arm does.
peering through fences and listening and looking and listening
the snapping gum, rusty locks, graffitti that is more beautiful than any of my paintings.
looking and looking and looking and...
ehhh blonday.
took a walk down eighth street, wondering.
wandering.
looking and looking.
wondering.

solitaire in solitaire

sometimes the game just cannot be beat. It is sometimes a scientific impossibility due to the arrangement of aces and 5s and sometimes that king is over the queen and theres nothing you can do, theres just nothing you can do.

and you can shout and cry and sob and fell sick and tell everyone or tell no one or be silent all together for the rest of your life because that king, that stupid ridiculous fucking king was over the queen and you couldn't get around it.

and you just become an avid observer, obsessing over all the things youve lost so far and all of a sudden life is sad, something always past. so you look at some photos and wonder why when you were 17 you were always so angry and why your best friend hasnt answered you calls in the last 9 months while youve been pregnant with belly full of battles lost. and it all adds up into something called defeat.

and so all there is left to do is quit this unbeatable game and start a new one, where the queen is on top and you have a chance to win.