Puzzle Pieces | Poems that Suck

"We fit together... like puzzle pieces!"
  and so we did; I a piece of brooding sky
    and you the sunlit meadow, meeting at the
      kiss of the horizon. 

Somehow we fit - no matter if we
 were standing, laying, dancing, 
  fucking, kissing... we just 
   fit together. It just worked
     out that way.

Once complete, however, a puzzle
 is broken apart and stored away...

Now I'm lost, searching for
 the ground that meets my sky, 
  connecting me to the larger picture
   in a sea of misaligned and ill fitting
     pieces. 

Sweaty Dreams | Poems that Suck

 Never read 
              Bukowski
                     before bed.
                       You'll dream of 
                           shitty apartments, 
                               empty, rattling 
                                        wine bottles, 
                                            and  scabby hookers. 
 
                Then, mid dream, 
                    you'll realize
                        you're sweating
                              buckets 
                                   between your ass cheeks.    
 

October Maple | Poems that Suck

 I never noticed before,
        but
          there's a maple tree
             just outside my window.
                 I can see it as I 
                     soak in water that's
                          so hot my skin should melt. 
                        Its blood red leaves
                     are nearly gone,
                   limbs bending in the breeze
               and I wonder what 
              what it must feel 
             like
           to be stripped bare and
          have the wind rip 
         through me. 
           I imagine it would slip
             through
               the spaces between my ribs,
                 maybe curl its way around
                    my age widened hips,
                      creep in where my eyes
                         would have been,
                            or that space between
                                my teeth that's always 
                                  sensitive. 

A Confessional. | Poems that Suck

 Remember that time,
 about 15 years ago,
 when we were driving 
 down some Texan 
 backroad?


 It started with you
 wriggling against the seat
 but soon turned into 
 a desperate scratching.


 "What the hell is wrong with you?"
 I shouted,
 "Fucking itching won't go away!"
 It took some moments, 
 but then I remembered.
 

 Two days before,
 when we were in the shower,
 I shaved your ass-cheeks
 while you washed your face.


 15 years later,
 and I'm still laughing. 

Home | Poems that Suck

He smelled like home to a girl
 who never felt that way about anywhere.

The deep green of the forest;
 sunlit leaves,
  crushed pine needles,
   and damp, rotting logs. 

The warm, fresh earth after it rains;
  buried seeds, 
   their tender shoots, 
    and mossy crevices between stones.

And the slight spice of musk;
 a loamy buck,
  the creeping fox
   and the parched air of owl's wings.