Tag Archives: closure

Confession

listen to
my bitter
now

a bad brain
that can’t hold water
or thought very long now

footfalls from feet
on fire now
and for years before now

snapping fingers
beginning now
to hurt like those feet

an old voice
no one hears
because 

it gave up
flash and
volume

in favor of
subtler and
less certain words

mined from 
its most 
unquiet source and

with that surrender
lost
so much and so many

fucked up now
and so many times before
fucked up

so many ways
fucked up
falling for so long

now as
everything else
falls too

maybe I do not
look so bad for
dying this way

but
still
dying now seems a

coward’s response to such a series
of dumb moves 
when

I was the one
moving so stupidly
as to look like

a hero to 
those stupid enough
to equate 

plain old fucking up
with 
artistic vision

as I did not love hard enough
or well enough
or plainly enough

now that 
so much is
breaking inside me

and my
cavalier striding
through this

has brought me here
it’s so obvious
that what ends with me

in such stumble
was born from that stumble
I called a path

that was no path
that was a crash
and what you want to call a career

or a life
was in fact
a steaming pile of

stereotype
torture porn
mythology

forget about it
as swiftly
as you can

now I am beginning to
do just that and
cannot wait

to become
blank
with no need to begin again


Cold Call

All I ask
is for them to be happy
to hear my voice
when I call, even if

I can do
nothing for them
at that moment.
To have my

familiar
but somewhat
unexpected words
charm them,

curl up and nest
in their ears
for a moment
or more. But

it’s a cold call more often
than not now,
a disinvitation by tone
and rushed goodbye.

I am certainly not asking
to be the sole center 
of their life, but
I do want to know

how I became
so much of a nuisance,
how I fell so far
from their grace,

that even the echo
of my voice
from the bottom of 
this hole

is enough
to make them
shy away and leave me
there. 


Looking Back

I’ve walked through 
many open doors
in my time; 
some I opened myself,
more were opened
for me by others;
a critical few
blown open by 
the vagaries of Fate;

my weakness has always been
my inability to close them behind me,
my unchecked urge to spend my energy
forever turning around to see through
that long tunnel of entrances become exits.

I’d love for one day
to have people say of me,

“He knew when to close
a door behind him — when to 
simply shut it firmly, when to 
lock it and choose well
whether to pocket
or toss the key; when
to nail it shut and brick it up —

and most of all,
he knew enough
how to look behind him without
stumbling as he moved forward.”