my DIY earrings
used to piss off my mom
now she asks
I need my holes reopened
where did you get yours done?
my DIY music used to piss off dad
now we’re both too deaf to care
my face used to piss me off
now when I look at it I’m DIY scared
DIY baby
all grown now
no money, no school, no job to speak of
fifteen guitars and no band with whom to hang
fifteen broken vessels in the drunkman wreckage of my face
DIY baby, DIY
I’m DIY, asshole
no one’s bitch or friend
except for the bills, totally free of chains
no cent in the bank and no skin in the game
nostalgia a pillow for the banged head still ringing
DIY baby, DIY
my DIY was always gimme gimme throw it away
no TV, no DVDs, certainly never a radio
I still have my original twitch from 1977
I still have my original itch and no drugs to put on it
understood the D, understood the Y,
struggled all these years to figure out the I
but think I’ve got a handle on it now
what I’ve been doing
what I’ve been making
DIY
the three letters inked on my chest
have become a blotch on one saggy tit
on my DIY body
my doughy body
my fatty body
my old running out
body
DIY baby
DIY
was it worth it
to turn away from so much
while getting to middle age decrepit and poor
with no fun, no wave to catch, no future
but for the obvious one all can see coming
I look like any working man with shelled over eyes
hands numbing from work so I can’t really play
(which was always the goal though it was uncool to say)
blood clogged with the leftovers of how angry I was
and still am but now it’s not charming to be so irritable
when paralysis strikes will the world be charitable
to someone like me who still pushes all away
will it be worth it when soon I die alone
dressed in black for my own ritual
of last negligence recalled for cautionary tale
if i leave burial instructions who will be sure that they are done
the one thing you can’t do for yourself
is remember who you are once you’re gone
too few who’ve seen me will remember me except
as the canvas of the slogan stubborn to the death
DIY, baby
DIY, buddy
DI
DI
DI
Y
Dark Matter 
March 3rd, 2013 at 7:24 am
[…] the idea of one set of experiences of the universe back to the Heart. When you revisit that idea (as he did). A daily practice is a great way of getting over your fear of doing it wrong. There will be […]
August 13th, 2012 at 5:23 pm
What’s DIY, if I may ask?
August 13th, 2012 at 6:37 pm
“DIY” stands for “do it yourself.” While it’s used in a lot of different ways, in this case it refers to the early days of the punk rock movement. It was our mantra back then — that we could do the writing, singing, packaging, marketing, etc., of our art ourselves and not have to rely on the validation of an artistic establishment. I really do have the letters tattooed over my heart…although the rest of the poem is less autobiographical.