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June 4, 2024 Poetry

3 Poems

Little Tank

3 Poems photo

bury me in my girbauds

a Midwestern boy, young relic of California's beatniks, but it's time I take me and my broken heart to some other country where girls would kill for me, Italy maybe. I hear English girls like American accents. That's when I broke my deck on a handrail, Rome 2020, and nearly castrated myself, bury me in my best fit when I died, throw a golden rosary in my coffin and bury me in my Girbauds, with half a broken deck in the dirt as my tombstone and an unlit blunt at the gravesite


suicide note 20

in case I haven't gotten myself across clearly
in case I've been muddied by people
in case no one knows who or where I am
in case
let my mom know she's the model for the women in my life
let my mom know I love her
let my exes know I really tried
I tried everything
I hope you give me credit for the changes I've brought in you and I hope you know what you all meant to me
with all the love I have,


spring revival/off drugs 23

this spring revival
has me speaking in tongues
my head is on fire
will you obey your nature
and follow your morals
or will you defy your better nature
for an immediate satisfaction?
for a foul gratification?
this is the season your life begins
that the art of living has been mastered
you are drunk on the air
you are rich and young
straight and alert
you will stray from your generation
and blaze a bold new trail
one of responsibility and care
instead of recklessness and drug abuse
this is the revival you will be remembered for
this is the way of the future
the way of the anti-millennialist
the hero of our bright young day