He Could Never Imagine

Lips moving and biting chocolate-covered strawberry

halves, but while the music beckons us to sing

I sit quietly and think. This life,

it's a little too short for my taste. I sleep awake

and toss my dreams into the trash.

Why should I see the things that never happen?

I take another sip from my can. I can't sing well but

that doesn't stop the others from trying. Maybe

I'll give it a shot. Maybe there's a little left in my cup.

Single

Single in the city, like highway virginity
likes highway puzzles

construction / reproduction

viral pities and pot holes,
the warm sweat on your neck
(it's like) back to back traffic. dog's tongue hangs out, and

stained like
coffee on a shared
receipt

outside, sweet bistro. (it's like)
fool's gold on my teeth.

the music venue

sex-stringed guitar/my head
fall, up and out, up and out
to the noise. it's dirty and
the people are magazine cut-outs
dragged out of my head, up and out of here.
tramp stamped on my right hand like i'm some kind of criminal. they start
to play, stop, give a little more to this one, perfect.
i'm perfect, i say,
when my eyes are closed. up and out
go my inhibitions. i pretend like situations turn out differently
or that i'm on a wonder drug. but then i wake up and out.
take a taxi home
and eat the rest of the peanut butter.

affair

we are the silhouette's best shadow.
the great silent.
stitched between black and blacker,
our lips stick
permanent.


the hardwood floor--
it tastes of vinegar
and nothing more.