NSF Charge

February 7, 2013

I think I live in a savings account.
And my existence is being measured
in dollar amounts.

If I could just rub two fucking pennies together
I could really do something.
I could BE something.

I’m tired of being cold and living with no heat,
I’m tired of wearing out shoes to small for my
aching feet,

If I could just save, maybe tomorrow
I could eat,
I’m hungry now and some things can’t wait.

I’m overdrawn —
under paid — 
and morally bankrupt.

I don’t care enough,
and I think
God. Damn.

I’m too proud to beg
and too poor to borrow
Let me stop at the bank
and I’ll let you know
about tomorrow.

My Green Floor

May 16, 2010

look at all these notebooks
I have them scattered out on my green floor.
Weathered and bare in spots
scratches of age and movement.
Dragging and sliding
rubbing and walking.
I’m digging, you see.
through all this paper
and ink
to find something real.
Something that doesn’t just scratch
and rub.
Just something other than
Something more than a shadow
of a shadow of a thought.
Something better than letters,
Pens, and these God DAMN SCRATCHES.
The wood is bare
in places.
The paint is lifted
and my green floor is
a motley brown and green
Like a dormant lawn in early spring.

And Thus Was Closed the Door

October 5, 2008

autumn’s push into darker days
and chilly weather,
September October November.
The moon casts shadows
the leaves change to crunching colors
littering the sidewalks and avenues,
And thus was closed the door
it was open for a while
’til silence found us where we hid
and all of the onlookers looked in
bidding us farewell
for they knew we were dead.
as the wind now blows the branches
bare and stark
clearing off their colors
and ripping them apart
autumn has never been kind. 
and winter is bitter and blind.
i never imagined we’d have nothing to say
we are not seasons, even though we change.
although you are cold, I cant bear call you winter.
but you are definitely not, anything like summer.