Grind

Nothing
Screams

I hate
My life

Like an overflowing
Sink of dirty dishes

While you're trying to
Smoke a little dope

On a otherwise uneventful
Tuesday afternoon.

It's a minor tragedy. An avoidable calamity.
A Goddamn disaster.

By the time you notice
You are way past screwed.

So you
wait.

And it gets
Worse.

And then it's too
Late.

And you still have to do
Them.

A Short Quick One (for my mother-in-law) About Your Daughter

If this particular night went on forever
That would be
Fine with me.

I could sit at this great big round table
And
Drink and
Smoke
And Talk
To you

About your family, your cat, your job, your girlfriends and your secret drawer.

(Don't ever mention it again. I repeat: don't ever mention that damn drawer again.)

You make it all sound so
Seamlessly
Interesting.

That is hard to do.

When you smile
I feel like I've
Accomplished something.

When you touch
My hand
I think
I can do
Anything

And I
Have
Been around
Long enough
To know
That ain't true.

And if this
Is all
A dream
I guess
That's alright
Too.

Division 1

I started two years NC two A and I was pretty good. I was efficient, never got burned - that was my thing. I Picked off a couple passes here and there but I wasn't great and I played on a pretty bad team. I was a good enough athlete to get by without having to live breathe and die football football football. I knew I didn't have the genes for the NFL. Yeah, I would have liked to play pro and yeah, I know there's always some little slow white fuck that never makes a mistake and you can bet your paycheck that guy's livin' and dyin' football and that ain't me, but I ain't stupid, and I know my limits - that's one of the reasons I was as good as I was. But what I really wanted anyway was the twat in the tight red shorts and the little top that showed off her tits and football helped me get her (and her sister and her even hotter best friend and it's still paying off). You can't buy that kind of confidence or steal it or sell shit-loads of dope to get it. I've never had much money but I always have a girl on my arm and I've never done time. A real man doesn't need much money or a gun. What a real man needs is women, lots of them, or at least one good one.

A Far Cry

I'm a far cry from dead
Like old Townes said
But he's long gone gone
And I'm down for the count
Tonight.
I need someone to tell me
It will be alright
Even if it's a lie.
I would sure appreciate it.
The truth
Usually sucks
Anyway you cut it
Slice it
Or spit it out like chaw.
Fuck it
Let's have a drink.
I think I see a bar.
As I said
I'm a far cry from dead
And I need something to look forward to.
So shoot out that street light kid
And start walking
Down the boulevard
Of twisted dreams.
I'm in the mood for company.

Cracked

Rain falls lightly while
Through a cracked window
I watch her brush her horse.
She's wearing
A red cotton peasant dress and
With her long hair
Hanging down
She looks like a Goddess.
My daughter thinks
She's a princess
But she's just a cute girl
I met in a bar two weeks ago.
She has quite a temper,
She's smarter than I am
And makes more money than I do,
Managing rich people's money.
I knock on the window and wave.
She smiles and waves back.
I read her lips
Through the broken glass.
Get in here, she says.

Forgive Me

I have always been a bastard - that doesn't mean I'm not sorry - for things I did or didn't do to you - tonight - when you just wanted to have a few drinks and after a little fun - with a pretty good looking guy - so I am a little sorry now - looking down - on you laying on your bed - bleeding a little from places you wouldn't have let me see - had you known - what I do and don't do sometimes too - you look beautiful - that makes me think - maybe I should have done the hard work - I have always been reluctant to do - It's too easy to be a bastard - I conclude - as I put a blanket over you - lock your door - and walk to my car - things could have been different - if you hadn't looked so cute - shooting pool with your fat friend - I might not have noticed you - or wanted to do things - no one should want to do - but - that doesn't matter now - as the dark night - turns gray - I forgive you - and everyone else too.

Mountain Pass

About a month before I joined the Army my brother and I stood on a mountain pass and watched a storm approach. My brother rolled a joint, lit it off the end of his cigarette and handed it to me. I asked him about the Army. He said it isn't so bad. It's a lazy man's job really, he added. That sounded pretty good to me. I gave him the joint and looked up at the clouds zipping across the dark sky. It's going to snow, I said, sat on a rock, gazed down at an empty road and wondered how many cars would pass before someone gave us a ride.