1 March 2011 934am

For two weeks or so I had the greatest gift I’d ever been given, completely undeserved and in the face of ugliness on my part. For two weeks or so I felt redeemed and hopeful and human, like a citizen.

And then circumstances returned me to the status quo. Zero. My only real emotional response to that is embarrassment.

It is a bit liberating, I suppose, to be freed of a dream once and for all after twenty-six years. I’m not sure what else I can feel about it and keep moving forward at all.

deconstructed Toe

I get that monogamous couplings are an artificial construct, a hetero-normative imposition upon our individual expressions of love and celebrations of masculinity, etc. I still don't wanna be yer Sancho or the next leg of yer poly-amorous experience, or a trick to help you celebrate your inner hairy man. It's just not me, and I don't mean to discount, minimize or otherwise negate the validity of your lifestyle choices. I'm happy to be an anachronism. Call me retro. It's got nothin to do with morality. I'm a militant atheist and cynical as hell. I just don't think I can get real intimacy if I don't keep at least something intimate. Otherwise, I'd just stay single and continue to be a dog, which would suit me as well, I suppose. Truth be told, I could likely rationalize any kinda behavior if I think yer hot and my sap's risin, but I'd still rather have one person at a time in my life on that level.

Chippers

Buncha goddamn chippers...what you think you see is just the merest samplin kept about for the medicinal value. And as for the ATF, they've all been out to get me from the start. And them that ain't is rootin for them that is. And don't think I don't know they're watchin. I sit here all night in my shorts, cleanin my piece and waitin for em to bust in. I know yer watchin...The ATF is a buncha pussies. It's the other ones - the ones they don't talk about - that are really out there. You know the ones who comes thru the wall and sit on the foot of the bed and giggle? I know em by name...You just keep talkin yer shit. I can see trees grow. I can hear mountains! I can see music! Buncha goddamn chippers.

dead modem

Rip me from the womb unborn
And toss me moist and naked screaming
Into a nest of stinging scorpions
Free me from my flesh tormented
In miniscule, envenomed tortures.

Swab with salves my ruined body
Scrape away my weeping boils
And renew my tattered remnant
Force me into new environs
Expunged of flaccid indolence.

Forged from some new alchemy
Of hermetic arcane wisdom
I emerge free of accretions
My ruthlessness conspicuous
And all my cumbersome attachments
Castings of small vanities.

I float above my old companions
Anomalous and atmospheric
Crawling in and out of pockets
Whispering conspiracies
With spiritual ventriloquism.

Enveloping my lover sleeping
I am firm, substantial moment
Breathing in his exhalations
I am pierced beyond redemption
I dissolve, become base matter.

Sonnet 20

My love buried, broken and encumber'd
From disuse and neglect - I'd long forgot
Or even spoken of that muse - had brought
Me naught but pain. Rejected unnumber'd
Times, its ill effect upon my mood
Left me distrustful, sullen and jaded
At the thought of new beginnings. Faded
Was the image I'd traced for years. I'd brood
No more on past wounds and hurt pride, but live
In solitary contemplation, trust
No more faint promises of hope, let rust
My edge. After love I'd no longer strive.
And in a couplet's sudden space you burst
Grace made you my best love, I your first.

Sonnet 18

Two combatants, they contend, and striving
Against each other tearing tender flesh,
They rend themselves where once they sought to mesh
The hearts that would otherwise be driving
In unison toward a common end;
And then their struggles abate and both rest
From fighting, the wounded lovers, lest
They finish the test - they have to mend,
Or this contest would finally end - ease
Into their corners, treat their stripes and face
That they do not know how they reached this place
Of battle, how can they this conflict cease
When the alternative to bloody war
Is indifference, to touch no more.

Sonnet 17

How irrevocable the sudden shifts
Of feeling, loosing the bonds of two lives
So long held together. One holds, one strives
To break free; and with us one falls, one lifts
Himself with new supports - all those new friends
Who swarmed in dazzling, new interests found
Apart from what was shared before; unwound
The cord becomes, and finally it ends.
A counterfeit memory all I hold
Of what once was authentic to us each.
I trace the outlines vainly try to reach
The substance that is quickly growing cold
And with your newfound happiness I see
The biggest part of us it seems was me.