Empty Room

--4 February days in a mental hospital--beginning with the day of the 24 inch snowstorm.--
There's a shadow over there
one or two cast by my hair
the window shows gray
I'm by myself today
There's no one else in here
to lay their head upon my shoulder
I cock my head in the mirror
am I really that much older?
Arms wrapped around my knees
as the sun stumbles down the sky
maybe I should stand and run
or then again I could lay here and sigh
I've been brought here to cry
I feel like I came here to lie
The mirror wants me here to die
There's a shadow over there
it's just me and it
it has a steely-eyed stare
and I don't care

Daddy

Sitting at the kitchen table
chin resting on my knuckles, exhaling....sharply.
You've been long gone....
Daddy, I have questions
What about that alternator I need your help with?
What about that life-changing situation I have to ask you about?
Where am I supposed to go with this....
sometimes I pick up the phone like you might actually be at the other end
I'm a crazy bastard.
Big things are happening
and I can't find that crack of light under the door
and you're not there for the answer
I'm helpless and hopeless, daddy
I turn in circles
sky of blue
tears of clear
hair flies around
and the tears sling loose
and there's not a safe place for me to stop
or for the tears to drop.
Daddy why aren't you there to catch me anymore?
Your tools are gone
Your smell is gone
I've got a picture, and a few of your toys,
but I stand in the living room, I can feel you there
Please say something, Daddy.
Because it's your answers I want
because I can't make a move without them....
Daddy?

Absolution and Retribution

Cain carried in his cracked and
weather beaten hand
an Iris as beautiful as the falling sun
and the beach's twinkling sand

He gently showed the flower to some nearby little girls
with it's delicate, brittle stems, leaves, and twirls
he then squeezed his hand tight
and blood flowed through his fingers and dripped

dripped down into the grass.....

Cain said to the little girls that this is what
God does to all beauty
He bleeds it dry, turning it into
whores and manual duty

Cain then dropped the Iris and walked away
as the little girls laughed in their curious and naive way
they attempted to fix the mangled Iris
for the remainder of their day

Cain walked chuckling through
a great and heavy door
Where a flick of the Morningstar's wing
slit his throat from neck to floor

As Cain gurgled and breathed his last
Lucifer knelt down low
Putting his fingertips to his lips
and breathed....

"It's not for them to know."

Claws and Sleep

It comes at 330
rifle shot, lightning bolt
sometimes I remember
More often I don't

but I always cry

I don't like to look
at that door
every damn night
what's in store?

but I have to see

because no one can live without sleep

Don says do over

Moving through life
accomplishing things
secure, but never felt right

there was something missing
left me searching the sky
under the dark of night

Everything I felt, all of the time
was a twisted version
of what should have been

You'll never know
how wrong it is
til someone comes around the bend

and they are holding hands
exchanging kisses and smiles
resting shoulders on heads

So I'm cracking the emptiness
walking away from the weight
and I no longer wish to be dead.

faded

I promise you a story

about faded glories....



Neon crosses
Dirty water from cheap faucets
stained and wrinkled sheets
broken from underused heat



People once liked to visit and stay

before my decline chased them away



this is what I've become

a mess, but not quite undone



Used to be somebody
drawing laughter and smiles
had the effect of honey
now I'm just drawing flies



There were those who looked up to me

they're now looking down at me

I put poison in the attics
Now I know what the rats see
I put poison in the addicts
Now I know what the rat sees



I promised you a story....

You know I'm good for it.

Printers Ink, Waiting Room Blues

Why do I feel like my clothes are all wet? My hair is pulling me down. Back to the chair, back to the waiting room with the never ending clock and the never mending staff.

sitting in my shrink's office, in his waiting room, I find that it is a place of information.
I've found out that our baseball team sucks, and that Burt Bacharach, Billy Squier, and Ving Rhames share the same birthday.

I've found that newsprint comes off on your fucking hands.

I've found that in a shrinks office, others waiting cry softly.
I tighten up, shudder. I know my issues, what could theirs be....?

Will there be less answers for me than for them...If God decides between one of us...which?
Hell, if she's crying, it should be her

but then again, I'm the one destroying things with an aluminum bat.
Praying to a god that I don't believe exists. In the shower. Alleluias from within the steam.

Ever been on your hands and knees in the shower? For a reason other than pleasure?

Jon and Kate are no longer together I learn in here. The television has a great recipe for ziti....fuck pasta, I'm losing my mind....this room is making it worse....Receptionists with their plastic smiles.....their scrubs though they never see a patient.....

Perhaps Bacharach, Squier, and Rhames can form a 3-piece combo, do an album and have the proceeds benefit the poorhouse Milwaukee Brewers....

Ink coming off on my fingers, goddamn black newsprint....dry hands simply rubbing it in, smearing it....Looks like Hitchcock's blood from "Psycho"

"the only way to get there is to go straight down".... I hear in my head...last song heard. Last word read was the finale of a paragraph from Cosmo on how a woman can use 27 ways to get a man to come without touching him......I'm getting pizza when I leave here.....gonna come back to the parking lot here, eat it, and plan to burn the motherfucker down....

the print from the cosmo/come article, the pizza box, running between my fingers.

Christ it's all melting away soaking into my skin, the news, the advice, the weather forecast lies, local cuisine....I rub my hands together, but it won't fucking come off




my name's called...it's all gone....

"Wait til tomorrow"
last song heard.

"Have him arch his back"
last article read


Billy Squier
It's his birthday.

I'm going to get a prescription. and hopefully an answer.