love digs graves all around the world but i used to

it is not just missing the good times slamdancing in a circle pit with your best buds at a rock show blacklit basement parties

all of my weary and all of my woe is made into perfect sense a common thread in my favorite son… familiar tones of sadness the beauty of malaise

the blade has always been dull how it was made never

i don’t believe anything i read unless it’s a poem

in all restaurants madness overwhelms the staff spirits break like plates

altar of vodka haloed cocktail, angel blood she prays 80 proof

our savings accounts cry out for m… but we only have so much to give coins jingling away in the pocket a few dirty fives in the wallet the shelves are in need of grocery

i don’t ever want to rest in peace and i certainly don’t want any of… resting in peace some of us grew up listening to pu… and speed metal

i expose myself a show boat and a show pony i suppose myself a poet

my knee is there if i need to bend my leg my knee is not there for me to beg if you place an empty plate in fro…

on a good day a poem is just a death threat to e… on a bad day it is a love letter

long begrimed with dust a floor looking for a broom love me for my scuffs

last seen at the brink of the abys… screaming at god laughing at the devil and smoking loose tobacco dark eyes and burnt skin