and your

hips &
lips &
thighs &
sighs &
winks &
kinks &...

and how
your hands
entwine
in mine

you're mine
and how
you're mine.

fresh scars and open sores

behind her hair lies her eyes
cat scratches on skinny thighs
what happened on that night
I don't know

she isn't telling me
through the fillings in her teeth
and if she's faking shrill glee
I don't know

fresh scars and open sores
all I know is all I saw.

Good-bye is a lie;

Good-bye is a lie;
for there is nothing good about it--
at the end of Sunday
you drove away, &
instead of smiling I pouted.

You're gone-- yet still linger in my room--
the scent of your hair
etched in the air--
"Damn weekend's over too soon!"

I miss you, Ms. You--
do you? Do
you love me, lovely,
as I do you.

poem for natasha

we fell
down the same well
and holding each other
we sang, as two
the songs that we knew
my pale bruised-peach lover

Tomorrow

Tomorrow, tomorrow
what a word, what a word
there's no sweeter a word
in all of the world.

Tomorrow, tomorrow
when my life starts anew--
O the things I'll get done!
O the things I'll do!

Tomorrow, tomorrow
not today! Not tonight!
The time isn't perfect
my mood isn't right!

Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
Tomorrow! Don't you see?
Tomorrow is when I'll
be all I can be.

Tomorrow, tomorrow
such a nice word to say
if-- I'm tired tomorrow
there's always the next day.

the wanderer

let's get stoned
and happy
and wonder why--

we hold our breath
when those girls
wander by

up all night
just to see
na'vi vs. NoTide

the world's out there
I'm happy
here inside

decisions,
decisions,
fingers conjoin

heads-- no-- tails-- yes--
--says the coin
oh the coin...

feels alright
waking up
to friday night

I let myself
get behind
sometimes...

Wearily.txt

I'm bored, and lost. And tired
My dates have all expired
I just sit. And nod my head
And play video games.

Ignored. Exhale and brood
In a filthy mood
The Lounging Dead
is my name.

Slam jazz piano chords
the coin-- of its own accord
cuts my way every day.