Constellation

I want to drain the blood I’m soaking in,
forgotten like a warm beer spilling
its useless contents around itself.
A pointless nightcap poured
and left to sweat it out,
left to watch the party
move elsewhere. Move now while I’m looking up,
a boring skyline in a starless sky.
Hidden icons, blank constellations burning darkness –
white pissed at its own excess,
black empty and worthless.
You and I shelved up high
forever watching the subtlety.

– North Hollywood, CA

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Taken in Table Mountain, CA

Mephistopheles

Being lied to means you’re either loved or hated.
I can never tell.
My best friend in middle school told me the meaning
of life was the relationships one makes.
And that aliens exist.
My dictionary defines relation as “an existing connection;
a significant association
between or among things:
the relation between cause and effect.”
The meaning of my favorite film is
people will never know each other.
Good Catholics believe we are alone in the universe.
I was raised Catholic; all my life
I’ve been lied to
because I cannot relate:

an old soul in the emotional
playground of the West,
I cannot connect, I cannot reach
the outlet that helps one tolerate the rest.
An old soul attracted to the ideal youth.
An old man who could be freed
with an acceptance of his cast:
King Lear in the rain,
the watersheds of time
subtly and suddenly between us,
haunting me like a last call
when I still haven’t made a move.
I’ve nothing left to give,
no more religion to take.
I’m pissing in the dark again
with nothing but my mind.

– North Hollywood, CA

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Taken in North Hollywood, CA

Watershed

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Taken in Darby, MT

You work the same job
for four years, the same girl,
repeated language and image;
then one day the page turns
and it’s not even shocking
to be in such surroundings. You follow
the course, you welcome the people.
You wait for that deathbed moment. So hard
to say goodbye when you truly mean it.
But these are pages after all, and we forget
how quickly they overlap
when you let go.

– Torrance, CA