"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.
Advice for the Aspiring Poet | Poems that Suck
Don't come to me for advice on how to be a better poet. Have the courage to live your life, then write honestly about it. (Also, learn the mechanics of writing. God damn.)
Pissed | Poems that Suck
There is something unsettling about rehashing our past relationship - all its heartbreaks and mistakes - while you take a piss on a tree . I have a feeling the tree and I share similar sentiments.
You Came | Poems that Suck
The most beautiful
thing I’ve ever seen
was when you came.
cock in hand,
cum pooling in my belly button.
And then you’d
kiss me, like you
found water in the desert.
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.
Between the Beats | Poetry that Sucks
I don't care if the verses don't beat, equal in length, rhyme or have a pattern. What I care about is that there's truth in them, that you can spy my soul hidden between the lines.
A Prayer for the Heart | Poems that Suck
I asked Jesus to take the pain away but he said he could only heal corruption. Love, no matter how much it hurts isn't corruption. So, I guess I gotta wait this shit out.
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.
Devour(ed) | Poems that Suck
I wanted to paint a picture of your eyes, see. One that captured all the deep blue and the light blue fibers of your iris. I wanted to paint your pupil huge, you know, like a quarter, or a moon, or a god-damn Buick. Swollen, like when you would whisper you loved me and I thought I could tell you weren't lying. Engorged, so large I could see myself in them and I was a different person, content with the mundane. Those pupils would swallow me, devour me whole; flesh, bones. Everything. And then you blinked.