Mom and Dad, Fucking
Never imagined them doing it
Until I walked in on
Them
Drunk and
Fifteen
After some keg party
Too pie-eyed to remember the
Horror
But the years sped by
Bullet Train streaks
On wet glass and
The two that spawned me
Faded painfully away
Now I’m old
But not yet slacked jawed
And holding their ashes and
That pile of bills they left
And,
I came to understand
It all starts and ends with
Someone getting
Fucked.
Myth Man
She found a new man
In a new place
Who didn’t write
Like he wrote
But was more wonderful
Than the man who wrote
And she held in her gaze
Long enough to melt away
His veneer.
And,
When rain came and
Touched his words
They melted
Leaving a ring stain
Around the drain of
Her bathroom sink,
A residue rank with
Dulcet decay.
Leaving her to wonder
Whether he was real
Or simply
Verbs and nouns
Oddly arranged,
Rendered in
Invisible Sharpie
Crude scribbles of greedy desire
She’d conjured before the first snow came.
Unfaithful Muse
On those mornings
When my mind is still
THC and bourbon ripe
Numb as a 1980s coke gummer
And that fucking fog hangs
November gray, damp, and biting
I stare
Dully down at
These blank pages
Sip my coffee
Pop another Zyn
Sharpen my
Blackwing to a
Nub
Cursing the false
Promise of an
Empty notebook…
A blank thirst trap screen
Wondering,
Is my muse out there
Once again
Fucking someone else?