a line allows progress, a circle does not

sitting around, no work today
try pacing to keep awake
laying around, no school today
just drink until the clock has circled all the way
it is late afternoon 
as you walk through the rooms 
of a house that is quiet
except for unanswered telephones
you stand near the sink
while you're mixing a drink
you think you don't want to pass out
where your roommates will find you again
stumble around the neighborhood with nothing to do
you're always looking for something 
to sniff, smoke, or swallow
calling over next door to see what they got
but you would settle for anything
that would make your brain slow down or stop
break this circle of thoughts you chase
before the catch back up with you
and your parents noticied your thinning face,
all the weight you lost
all the weight you are losing
you said, "i'm done feeling like a skeleton
no more sleep walking dead"
you're going to wake from this coma
you're going to crawl from this bed you have made
and stop counting on that camera
that hangs round your neck
because it won't ever remember
what you choose to forget
as you try to find some source of light
try to name one thing you like
you used to have such a longer list
and light you never had to look for it
but now it's so easy to second guess everything you do
until all you want is to finish this half empty glass
before the ice melts away
this feeling used to pass
but seems like it's every day and every night now


a perfect sonnet

lately i've been wishing i had one desire
something that would make me never want another
something that would make it so that nothing matters
all would be clear then
but i guess i'll have to settle for a for a few brief moments
and watch all dissolve into a single second
and try to write it down into a perfect sonnet
or one foolish line
because that's all that you'll get so you'll have to accept
you are here and then you're gone
but i believe that lovers should be tied together and
thrown into the ocean in the worst of weather
and left there to drown 
left there to drown
in their innocence
but as for me i'm coming to the final chapter
i read all of the pages and there is still no answer
only all that was before i know must soon come after
that is the only way it can be
so i stand in the sun
and i breathe with my lungs
trying to spare myself the weight of the truth
saying everything you have ever seen was just a mirror
and you've spent your whole life sweating in an endless fever
and now you are laying ina bathtum full of freezing water
wishing you were a ghost
but once you knew a girl and you named her lover
and danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer
but autumn came, she disappeared
you don't remember where she said she was going to 
but you know that she is gone because she left you a song
that you don't want to sing
we're singing i believe that lovers should be chained together
and thrown into a fire with their songs and letters
and left there to burn in their arrogance
but as for me i'm coming to my final failure
i've killed myself with changes trying to make it better
but i still ended up becoming something other than what i had planned to be
now i believe that lovers should be draped in flowers
and layed entwined together on a bed of clover
and left there to sleep
left there to dream of their happiness


on my way to work

there is a car parked where the block begins
and there are people singing praises
say it's all because of him
and there is a bird perched on a frayed wet wire
and his voice sings out for a lover
but its covered by the choir of voices 
reaching way beyond the rafters
with devotion they perform these sacred tasks
they cross themselves and offer up their checkbooks
slight suffering is not too much to ask
besides we all are making money
and we are all fucking alone
and we don't know what we are doing
maybe just buying us some hope
because we know that we are lonely
yeah, lonely that's for sure
and the older ones are coughing
and the older ones are dying
maybe we are all dying
i pass a graveyard on my way to work
today i saw two dozen white roses 
on a fresh new mound of dirt
and i wondered about the occupant
when the darkness finally swallowed him was he calm and content
or was he sweating in a struggle to keep breathing,
ripping apart the sheets that dressed his bed
crying out loud for someone to help him
and collapsing on his back all pale and dead
maybe it's me who's this unstable
always obsessed about the end
why can't i let what happens happen?
and just enjoy the time i spend
oh how i wish it was so easy
but when there is no point to anything it can get a bit confusing
why is that i keep going?
why is that we keep going?


a new arrangement

if could change your days
arranging them in some sweet new sequence
like any new arrangement is going to make a difference
because it is the moment that you are living in
and not the one that follows that makes the mess you are cleaning in your head
and time still drags you forward
although you keep resisting
because you know it is what you leave behind 
you will soon start missing and the people you once counted on 
says its all depending on how you act and how you treat yourself
and that is not very well
so baby when i call for you
i want you to come and explain yourself to everyone
you nod in an acknowledgement of your frequent mood swings
but what good is an acknowledgement
it still don't change things
we've tried all forms of encouragement
and it's still no better
you can't seem to fake or force a smile
not even a little one
so baby, when i call to you i want you to come
and lay it out for everyone
exactly how it was before any of this happened
and why you can't leave it behind
don't just sit there when i call to you
i told you to come and lay it out for
don't feel awkward
lay it out for everyone


neely o'hara

in the morning
when you throw up water
and your skin turns a pale pale yellow 
well everyday you lose more color
do you think that someone paints your mirror?
so you think that things sound different
at the time when you speak
well there are visions much clearer than these blurs that you see
and like neely o'hara you swallow your sleep 
and wake up in the morning
to find you are not who you used to be
you don't recognize the behavior
or the spelling of your name and the shape that is in the mirror
well you'd swear it is not the same
and like neely o'hara
you swallow your sleep and you really can't remember
but you know you are not
think you are not
no you are not who you used to be