Ode to Nikola

You
with your Electric Heart
it tore yourself apart
while you were listening on your
Cosmic Phone
sending signals to the stars
receiving messages from mars
more powerful than zeus,
You forge those bolts and
command them, they are your own
birthed amidst a storm with a
fire in the sky,
foretelling your future while
lesser gods sit on olympus pondering
why they have never created anything so great
3 by 3 and 9 by 9
Pigeons rest on your veins, telephone wires
AC lit up with your Light
and you still live, all around us in the static
and the energy of the Earth, you knew
No one ever did any better
Not any money mongering fool drooling over dollars
while you stayed awake at night to craft
the next Advancement of man
We can never repay you enough
But to speak your name at any chance
Shout it from the rooftops like a lover mad
Part of me now and part of me soon
In heart then in Ink
Permanent
Unrelenting
Real
Electric.

Unfinished.

I cannot stand it
I never could but now it is building
All I have are these words and they cannot caress me
They cannot comfort me
like other human flesh can 
but I have no one and I want
no one because after a while all their
faces blur together and their 
names taste the same and their
habits get just as irritating. 

One soul.
That is it,
one person 
who has never
enraged me. 
One friend.
That is it,
and I can pretend
and grin like the rest of them,
but I am not with any of them,
I am of no one,
And all I lov'd - 
I lov'd 
alone.

Perhaps
I am in a cage of my own making,
by refusing to be caged myself
by any wand'ring eye, not
lending a chance nor 
passing the time. Perhaps
I am my own Holly, sans cat
sans name and I've only yet to find
my own Paul Varjak. 
V-A-R-J-A-K
Is it even a possibility
W-R-I-T-E-R
another lost soul 
wandering in the distant and impossible
valley of humanity

It seems
I only love dead men
who tell many tales and
seem more interesting and 
tolerable than the living ones. 
It seems
I do not know the meaning
of the word I seek, so 
wander aimlessly, so
someone show 
me. 

The Motions

They claim
high school 
preps you 
for college.
Their doped-up, dumbed down
absolute shit
of 'education' 
is what high school
has turned into. 
Thank you Mrs. Solberg
for teaching us history,
making it challenging,
giving it meaning.
Thank you Mrs. Jordan,
for giving a fuck
your crazy hair
you care.

tell that mick my requiem

I want to be surrounded by
creative minds pulsing like mine but
every corner I turn holds another
unimaginative whore the women don't know and
the men know less be my oasis save me from my desolateness
whiskey on my breath I try to relax but I can't and I'm
alright with that because I can't get no satisfaction
thanks boys for the tip
I'm talkin bout the stones but you can make it
sexual if you so wish
and why should 'i' be capitalized?
it might make me sick but i'll make the decision
to spoil my own lungs ears liver blood but
he can't be a man cuz he doesn't smoke
the same cigarettes as me
dancing like a flower child maniac i
find myself in the twirling fabric and laugh
at all the souls held captive by their bodies and this woman
all mind and all heart and all
legs tells you to join her but you
refuse and aren't we all just lost souls
anyway?

portrait d'une femme, deux

i just want to be 
in folie à deux with you
a madness of two

Smack

The walls are paper
Scream shout knock yourself out now
I will not tell (oops)

In Class

Mother may I take two steps forward
toward the edge
never to come back
Bright young things
Come to call and find their end,
their fall and flight
Mother may I read a sonnet
of Death and Dishonor
the turn comes with
"Motherfucker"
Mother may I 
write a word or a line
as you take your time I roll my eyes
Mother
May I
Mother
Fucker
May I never ask for your permission
as long as I die.