when you trim your ***** and your mustache with the same pair of scissors
when you hand over your entire paycheck to the bartender of doom and glee
when you write a bounced check at the grocery store
when you sleep with a girl who isn’t clean
when you’re young, lost, broken and poor
when your childhood runs hard and your luck runs out
when your best friend is dead and your other friend is ******* your girl
when your dog sleeps in the afternoon and dreams of the neighborhood *****
when your nutrients gets replaced with Xanax bars over the one who just left
when your tired eyes meet the brick & mortar of strenuous labor
when the smile is so fake that it appears genuine
when you go all in on someone you weren’t 100% sure of
when you wait on bleeding knees for the unreliable god
when you bet on the boxer that crashed to the canvas
when the interest is high and the banks are closed and the creditors don’t care about grace periods
when you understand very little and you expel a whole lot
when the cord of anxiety strangles your very essence
when you turn out to be just as everyone expected

don’t worry

it’ll all turn around

and find you again

someway

somehow.

"Excuse me," she said.
"Pardon me," he said.
"Certainly," so said, El Presidente.

In a far gone place
Unbeknownst to me
A creature is still stirring
Behind the broken dying leaves

It’s perch is gone
The trees are long dead
Yet a soft glowing heartbeat
Still survives in the dread

There once was a fella from Maine
Who added some drugs to his brain:
     He lost half his mind,
     And the half left behind
Was totally ******* insane.

I taught children to write cursive.
And how to drive a stick.
In fact, they learned all my baby boomer tricks,
Like reading, walking, talking.
They learned about winning, and all about losing, with dignity.
They learned about friendship, loyalty, honour, trust,
And perseverence.
They learned that truth, as hard as it might be, was ok.
These cannot be discarded.

And yet, today's child is not for these times.
They are time travellers.

Once upon a time, there was this country called America.
It was a place of dreams and imaginations.
Where anyone in the world could go.
Anyone could be an American.
You can't become Indian, or Italian, French, Irish, Russian, Chinese,
Japanese, etc., etc., etc. by moving there and assimilating.
You'll never be one of them.
But, once upon a time, America was the Golden Ring.
That ring is out of reach now. It's rusted and broken.
And the merry-go-round keeps spinning.
And the occupants keep flying off in all directions.

I learned to spar with my stray thoughts,
Every ounce of fear or anxiety,
Becomes a battle of wit.

Though that may not work for everyone,
Some just build lanterns,
A way to see through the night.

Others learn to silence their worries,
Utilizing weapons to wipe away their nightmares,
Burning holes where there once was doubt.

My face is ugly
My legs are short
But she leans upon me
For her child support.