What I Shouldn't Have Sent

Isn't there anybody as lonely as me?
And for no reason at all
or so it seems.

What's Worth Risking It All For

You could be anywhere
doing anything
and it's still the best thing in the world.
That's love:
Any time,
any place.

Scientifically Observed Through Art

You can't know this secret, about women and words, well enough,
you'll never win a woman's heart with words alone
and so romantic poetry is a work of desperation from tormented men.
But, it is this desperation where the true style of romance is found:
It's an attempt, a gesture, that brings levity (and peace) at someones expense
and maybe it's theirs and maybe it's yours but it's always for her.
(Doubt and) torment won't be something you can win over either,
only something you can avoid
(if you're a coward that is.)

Hopeless Sky

I died
when I realized
I'd signed my heart over to too many people
and there wasn't enough love to give them all.
Love isn't strong enough
to pull itself back to its beginnings
and so it gets thinner and thinner in a massive finite space.
As above,
no below.

My Rewards

My life is lived without a woman's treasures.
My bravery only earns me the reassuring smiles,
caresses, laughs, and kisses of women.
Only moments loved against moments unloved.

Voyeur in the Presence of Strangers

Like a virgin's blood,
like a phoenix rising from it's nest,
like Disney:
Magical, bitch.

Death Became Her

Her eyebrows raised slightly, lips parted, eyelids lifted, and she drew a breath that could be heard for what seemed an eternity.

An Incomplete Something

I couldn't remember her name.
It was exotic and it rolled off the tongue easily
and just as easily was lost, still somewhere but forgotten.
We didn't really remember to use a rubber either.
It's a good thing bad Catholics do believe in abortion.
She told me what she would have named it.
What did she say again?

An Afternoon in a Plane

A man is unflinching.
A woman is death.
A girl is looking.
A boy is lost.
Always....

A Bar That Only Serves Snacks

I've been looking at your tan legs between shots and they remind me of orange chicken. I want to bite them now that you're siting beside me with your car idling and playing with your cell phone online. You should be on me, toes in my mouth, fingers in you.
Maybe I'm just a little hungry now that my fridge is empty.

I'm No Joke

Not a dollar

of my own,

on the flipside

I'm unknown.

SNL on DVD

It's so damn sad watching women,
of years long since past,
singing and dancing in their prime;
to know, those well sexed bodies could never meet mine.
I sit with an erection and quietly keep watching.