Chuck vs. Pat:
the difference between me and him.
he had it much harder, the drink was
the only constant clean'pillow
between shit spoiled blood
and piss broken
glass moments.

he fucking choked god, had god cough
up bits of breakfast toast on
his collar while god begged
for mercy.
he, well, he drank
in very certain bars, drank in
preferred and isolated rooms, and after
gods bile and toast stains had washed a bit, he
lost interest in any interest
to have a chat
with the devil.

he was alot more blade
to bleed, alot more just a penny and I can
feed, he played the horses, praying the locks keep enough
to keep the whores scratching at the door, he
saw the end early and was drooling, smirk and was
ready.

im a bit more of the creampuff, full of
love for the rest of you, hope and belief in
the rest of you, and thank god
he is dead.

his ridicule would really
piss me off.

and we are all so trembling inside so
are they talking about me what are they
looking at, when will i be happy, when
will all of this end, when did it fucking start, what
the fuck am i doing, what the fuck am i
doing here...

sometimes the greatest distance exists
between those most close.
sometimes the softest moments carry
the strongest sound.

and i would be jealous, full of envy
at the world spinning all around me, except
i feel the pain in your gears as they turn.
i would be beset by regret, drunk
in pools of mirrors and failure, except
i know how few of you
are at all
happy.

and,
i would be bothered by how great she might look tonight and
who she might look great with and for, i would be
worried with his bank account and vacation plans, if
i was unaware of how they stare into the shadows in stolen
seconds when they think no one is looking, looking for what
no one will give them.

and we are all so beautiful so full of mistake
and paper cuts from the bible, so cosmic
in how our perfect moments are pushed in on
like coal trying to rush out the diamond, and
this makes me hurt less, makes me hurt your hurt, makes
our hurt an opportunity for joy and for this
i love you all, truly
i do.

and at some point you give up
trying to be or find the person
you are trying to be or find.
more time to stare at the sky
and i find myself
doing exactly that.

the romance of the imagination and the
screenplay of memory is quite a terrible
addiction but i have been
sober before and i will be sober again.

you dream of her body, how you convulsed
along the electric pulling you built between
those Venice sheets when you both were still
strangers searching for a warm place to hide.
you dream of the clothes, the parties, the cars, the good
times for everyone, build the business live the life but
there you are, some coin in your pockets, pockets on pants
on a body still wondering what's next.

so, i'm excited for a party that i'm having, bring
all the kids to the campfire, see if anyone has the secret
or at least some new or better
questions.

but there will be some good souls that choose
to make it, and hell, what was not made then perhaps
can be made now perhaps we will even be able
to share it for a night, at least.

of course
it is literal
as literal at least
as literal can be.
its a diary
a summary
a soliloquy
of what i think see
feel and believe.
its a truth grenade
pull the pin
and the fuck it joy
when the fireworks begin.

simple notes in a bottle set
adrift in the oceans of space, rarely
expected to ever be found, so yea
its literal i guess, literal as much
as anyone would literally confess
to, but
that being said, it is a dialogue
with the universe that is
sculpted with the intention, but not
always just intended for the subject, but mainly
and maybe moreso sculpted
for the dreamed upon objective that may receive it,
objectively with no recognition or connection to
what or who has
launched the missive.

so take it for what its worth, what
it means to you, take it for any
worth or meaning it carries,
literally
or not
either is fine
with me.

behind my eyes
i am always
tilting left or right
pulled in wonder
hand on face cradling
with index
finger pushing
up on the cheek, smiling
hmm..

each challenge becomes
much easier or
less of an obstacle
to address...
each
broken heart mends
that much quicker...
each day becomes that much shorter
all forever spreads that much farther
each desire reveals its truth that much faster
all need illuminates its truth that much greater.

and as I listen to my cats claws
tick tack across the hard wood floors i
laugh that i almost threw up
after the gym today and
as soon as i caught my breath
i lit up a smoke.

behind my eyes
i am always
tilting left or right
pulled in wonder
hand on face cradling
with index
finger pushing
up on the cheek, smiling
hmm..

i wonder if i will want any more.
so far there have been two women
that i have loved more than any other
more than i should have more
than either cared for,
at the time, or
cared for as I had hoped
they would.

both so beautiful in the black
and white memories and most
beloved pitctures I have of them.
both so perfect in thier kaleidoscopic
occupation of my deepest and most protected
and beloved self.

i wonder if i will want any more.
so far they both reach out from
crumbling and brilliant free
falls through bliss, asking
for my hand to hold them or
guide a more gentle descent
to
much safer
ground.

i wonder if i will love any more, like
i do them.
i wonder if i have the strength to love
any more, like i do
them.

I am not the one, not at least to
either of them. If so, i would
be.
Such is this, and at least I am
forever grateful that I have left gardens
inside of them, beacons of yes you can
count on me.
but, I often wonder, if
I will want any more.

and against all reason
i would marry
both of them.

i would march
up the aisle, bristling
with bruises of ridiculous hope, laughing
at the steep and
obvious and unforgiving
cliff of tomorrow.

and when i was asked.......i
would say..
i will.
even though i cannot, i will,
even though
they would never
dare
to let me.

never mistake the willingness
to accept the bullet.
never mistake the desire
to accept anything given
from a specific and certain hand
as an act of the unwilling.
There are crazy people in heaven, and
i'm sure we all know a few.