FIRE ARROW

at the start
the entrance to the hall
all of the doors
still lie ahead
and as a young man
you can pass them by
like the abundance
that they are.

the longer you go
the more doors are left behind,
the hallway grows shorter
and the possiblity of an end
becomes now conceivable.

the doorways become precious
and every opportunity to open one
is held, relished, considered
unlike the brash
kicking down
of doors
in our youth.

remember from time to time
that the smash crash
of spontaneous entrance
was what made the whole thing work.

remember too
that the doors kicked in
are more likely
to be boarded up
upon revisiting.

some were never meant
for a second chance
these rooms
celebrations of youth
being the best
the fastest
the highest
the farthest
can be left smoldering
in your wake.

I watch the leaves fall today
early for autumn
and thumb the pages
recounting the days winnings
olympic trials
and savor with both things
the bittersweet
of old dreams of youth
as they tumble along
crumbling leaves
grey asphalt
breeze at their backs.

end of a road

living is fueled by the dream.
it animates the substance,
gives a purpose to the machine.

too many risks taken
has left only the nightmares
after so many years.

a fuel of sorts.
repellant,
and the world runs
like ants before gasoline.

morning is for...

blue skies.
hopeful sun.
the healthy joggers.
tires on the road.
cool breeze.
pleasant confusion.
langour.
alarms.
cleaning up.
tearing down.
recovery.
take out the trash.
science.
faith.
listening.
bad news, made by fools...
good news, made by dreamers.
Jesus H Christ.

everything to begin again, even if you stay up all night, waiting for the sun with a sniper rifle.

666

in old towns
I am tired to the bone.
to the marrrow.
to the blood,
sluggish,
crawling through veins
like greasy dust
from the back of the fridge...

old towns
have seen all my tricks,
so I am left
to grimy hands
taco meals
with the chatter
of the stained air
freeways,
trains,
and the ease
of slithering
into my old skin
for as long
as it will hold me together
on this western
sleepy
afternoon
in
my
old
town...

the reason for fat hobos

at first the idea seems perfect.
brilliant, easy.

live on the lam,
out of my car,
soak up couches and floors when I can.

for months now
maybe go for years
but already
I am worn
from the never ending sense
that I don't belong here
or there
or anywhere.
folks seem fine at first,
happy to see
to feel
someone living
on the edge.
then it sneaks up
like a shoeless ninja,
the novelty of the edge
grows dull
and on this bludgeon
one becomes
an interruption at best.
then the edge means
meals alone, always out.
rereading books
just to kill time.
no real sleep.
the cost is enormous.
just the money spent on things
to give a reason
to be
somewhere.
anywhere.
the rest of the money goes into the car
my house on wheels,
my steady companion.
gas and repairs
to keep me running
from job to job,
that I work
to pay for the car
so I can get to the jobs
to pay for the car...
then more food and shit coffee.
the meals, endless lonely meals.
I have never eaten so much.I have at least that one thing left
to remind me
of the long lost comfort of home.

pome

write your book
on a cell phone,

or the backs of napkins.

you will be certain
to keep it

short

but

sweet...

grumpy

when you can see
god in everything
you know
it is all perfect.

that is to me
all the more reason to
fight
be cynical
derisive
sarcastic.

there is god
in the devil too...

orange county

did we lose the war,
if there ever even really was one?

with how far
things seem to have gotten,
I wonder if the battles were just a sham,
the causes balloons,
propped up,
in front of the real deal.
perhaps all of
the Richard Nixons
buttfucking the rising pheonix
as thier legions doused her
with gasoline
to burn
again.
gasoline
and
cum.
quite a statement.
the revolution songs
are piped in...
keeping only ambience
keeping the machine
cool company.
it is really the worst thing,
these safe, plastic cities.
either the result of the war
that we lost so badly,
or the trickery
that we
didn't
even
see
coming...