Archive for August, 2010

the bulb burned out
right in the middle of
a sentence.
i was still talking, lady.
it wasn’t fair.

i bought replacements
a long time ago.
so i rescued them from the
hall closet and
screwed one in, snapped
you back over your
modern-day candle.

my smoke was still smoking
my glass was half full
i plugged you in and
pop!
a bad bulb.

could’ve taken it for a sign
but then
i never know when to quit
it’s why they all
give up on me.

i shuffled
down the hall
with the fumes
in my head
burped some acid
alcohol
and got three more bulbs.

ripped the plastic open
and screwed another one in
bit my lip so hard
i tasted iron.
plugged you in
and held my breath
and you lit up
like you’d never left.

my lady, our lady
if i can get another bulb
and another,
how about you
throw me a bone?

but every time
i take another drink
my lip, it stings
and i watch your smile.

as usual
you keep your mouth
shut.

took a hiatus. bottle hit back. new job. been writing mostly under lock and key.

stay tuned for more emilio. yeah, more to that story.

that is all.

stop.
there’s no point.
quit driving past
quit staring so hard
it burns a hole in my ribs.

you and me
were never real,
because you built that
castle
on sand untruths.

i thought you were a man
but mine
was an honest
mistake.

so stop.
quit showing up at my
door
with another hard-luck
story.

i believed you
the first fifty times
now i just listen
to you whine
on the other side
of my new locks.

i keep the phone handy
and the bottle handier.

go away.
at least the liquor
is honest
about meaning me
no good.