sometimes the bed
is bigger than I can stand

I’ve spilled a cup of stains
a day over these sheets

I want to ask a question of the empty room
but it talks so loudly I can’t get a word in

so instead I’ve chewed the pillows
until I’m dried spitless and mute

I wake up at all hours with the same thought each time —
dream is one letter away from dread

write it all down, the therapist says
but even then I can’t keep it down

the bed gets bigger every day as if
oak could still grow after death

when I thought nothing could

Ain’t working tonight…I’m up again, dear lord…

Got the local “hahd rawk station” on for shits and giggles. This popped out.

CLASSIC ROCK POEM

This
Classic rock poem was written in
A suburb
Safely tucked away from the edge
Of the city of the damned

With its grey hair all once sexy still askew
It speaks of wannabe memories of same old
Used to be’s and
Shoulda beens

This classic rock poem
Owns more clothes than I do
Drinks cancer like cold water
And won’t admit to aging anymore than
Complacency

This classic rock poem
Eats a Jaguar for breakfast and wears
A safety pin on its sleeve in a half assed sort of
Exploited way

This classic rock poem
Wants you to take it home and put on
A kettle full of Scotch
Soothe its motel tan with shredded ticket stubs
Listen to every goddamn thing it’s ever said while
Pretending not to notice it’s bogarting your last joint

This classic rock poem is completely
Together
It’s got everything
From gymnofinger ragged ass string twisting runs
To a whole lotta portent
It sees a woman over there and wants to
Call her a girl

This classic rock poem loves you
This classic rock poem needs you
This classic rock poem is sure you’ll sleep with it
Just because you always do

This classic rock poem is such a classic rocker
It doesn’t even bother
To rock