First of all,
don't call me a poet
writer
scribe
muse (imagine)
but possibly asshole
because I am no different from you (asshole).
Our only difference is that I paint
the ugliest self-conscious images of your empty
heart and tenderly weeping memory
onto the things,
places,
names
you've forgotten and make you wonder
in amazement,
"you fucked that whore too?"
This is what we are; bar room stools,
bathroom graffiti, 4 dollar whiskey sours
and all the tired nights you paid for
with dignity.
Broken man, cheer me on this;
Normally I end my sentences with periods while
you have yet to learn how to finish
what you start, but
this is not how to live life (in parentheses)
yet we both wake finding
ourselves with chapters that seem to stretch
like ink-stained hands for a few
more letters
to call it a day.
Call it an idiom.
In turn, I hope for you one night
to tell my story
with the side of your axe, underneath the bleachers,
in frat houses through the throaty groans
of need I say more?
Make me the fishing trip where I was
the one to catch the biggest bastard
in the lake, along with the girl of your dreams
in each highschool flashback
and you went all the way as if you wouldn't come back
to yesterdays which can be coloured-in
with Xs and at least the alphabet never ends.
I can be your victory march, the flag raised
as long as you call it as it is;
poetry
because this is me, you, everybody's grandmother
and that cute, curly haired girl who's
always by herself at the cafe
it's all just unscripted when people fall in love
and grow old and are ugly
and are lumberjacks
and realize they aren't
but maybe they can write.
I am stealing your life, for I you can call
thief, motherfucker, B-grade actor
failed tree-cutter
and likely,
poet.
But you're still an asshole and I feel I owe it to the world
to put it in a poem.
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