Editing is for Pussies | Poems that Suck

 I don't edit these, 
      ya know?
  
 They're not supposed 
     to be 
       pretty.
  
    They're supposed
      to be
         real.
  
 To capture a 
     moment 
       in time.
  
 That shit's elusive,
      you gotta nail
        that fucker down,
          before it slips away.

A Virus | Poems that Suck

 It used to be my phone
 that I carried around, 
 in hopes that you'd
 call or, 
 message,
 like or, 
 comment - 
 

 All that meaningless bullshit that we
 equate with love, affection, and respect. 


 Now, it's this little book
 and the words have not 
 stopped pouring forth;
 like lancing
 a boil, 
 all the 
 blood, and
 pus and
 pain
 are coming out. 

A Pool Skimmer | Poems that Suck

Battles for life happen
  in the desert;
    saints, 
     demoniacs, 
       madmen,
                Jesus.


My desert was a 
 shitty community pool,
   brimming with gallons of
    toddler piss
      and
       ruptured
         fart bubbles.


I'd hopped the fence at 4 a.m. 
       fearful I'd skewer my cunt
         and be stuck like that
                 under the humid
                   moonless
                     Florida
                           sky.


I'd jumped in with my, 
  No. 
   His clothes on, 
     like some pathetic
          Ophelia.
            Even my Chuck Taylor's 
               which made me feel so
                    Rock 'n Roll.


I could hear my breathing, 
   my heartbeat;
      In. 
        Thump, thump.
           Out. 
             Thump,  thump. 


And I sent up a prayer to
   whatever
     God was listening. 
       Even if it was 
         nothing at all. 


Just let me die, 
  in this piss 
     filled pool 
       and in the morning some
         poor slob can fish me out.
            Long handled skimmer;
               and me too dead to care about
                    the burden. 

Sleep Isn’t Safe | Poems that Suck

 I was tired.

 I wanted to crawl into bed and think of us
fingers threaded together, limbs warm 
against each other, the weight 
of your head on 
my shoulder...

 And then I remembered;

 you said you loved me but we were 
a complication (and then you 
kissed me) in a long 
list of your 
complications.
 So 
I
stayed
awake.