Cat and Dog

I drank your shitty whiskey
You called me names.
I ran to the door
With shotguns at my feet.
You slammed it hard,
You think I want more.
“Baby, baby, you’re not going nowhere.”

“Baby,” I snarl,
Feral cat in a cage
“You think I don’t know?”

I hit your chest hard
You snatch my wrists
I bite you
You curse me
“Little bitch.”

I spit at you.
“Wanna fight?”

You laugh so hard
You cough your
Muddy menthol cigarette lungs

I snatch the keys
And run out the door,
Whacking day-feet
On midnight wooden steps

Dusty drive kicks up seven ways
You sprawl against the open car door

“Baby, baby, this ain’t how it ends.”
You drawl.

“Baby, I ain’t ending.”
Slamming the door
I make rotten mince of your fingers

You howl to the moon
Like the dog you are

“Tell her to check herself,”
I call out the window,
“Dirty shit carries disease
No matter where it lies.”
I push the pedal
And screech at the moon
As the car belly growls forward.

Feral cat free

Typical Trip

“Hey Buddy,” A voice swam at me
From beyond my carousel.
“Where you at?” It asked
In sounds akin to cadence,
Taking on the swimming beats
Surrounding us.
The hopping part of my forebrain
Kept steady jolting rhythm
While another part behind it
Considered the question.
Fighting through the heavy
Rainbow fog
It gave me a response,
Any response.
“Mellow as fuck man,”
I growled
“Mellow. As. Fuck.”

Lies For Love

Tremendous lies
Build the foundation
For our greatest loves.
Truth is overrated
For it is merely opinion
Not fact.
Let us burn the records
And flame the sword,
Cut the pretence.
Let us be everything
We were born to be;
Spiders capturing food
Within our deceptive webs.

Who wants reality?

Not I said the fly

A Dialogue of Walls and Love

“Fuck you.” He says.
“Why’d you make me feel love?”

I look past him
At the wall
With all of its bricks
And mortar.
I wonder if I am
The sum total
Of the loves in my life.

“I am not at fault.”
I talk through my lips.

“Take it away.”
He demands.

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can! Take it!”
His face looks like the swollen end
Of a pimple.

“I wish I could. You don’t deserve it.
You’ll let it go when you want to,
And it will fall into your foundations
Where one day someone will break through
And make even your smallest pieces
Feel less like remains.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?
I’ll keep building walls.”

“Your own?”

“No, everyone else’s.”