1.31.2012

i wish i had wings.
and
the heart of a child.

coming home
to an empty apartment
with
open cabinet doors
and
shower curtain.

don't you know
that
towel is for show?



the smell of death
and
nag champa
and
the empty space
where
your suitcase once
lay.


a forgotten toothbrush.

and a string of yarn
in
the
shape of a heart.


a note.
in pencil.


on our backs.



meet me in chicago.
or austin.
or
west islip, ny.




love me in the spring time.




that's where i'll be waiting.

1.26.2012

my feet are on fire.
and
i'm crying my eyes out.


over the things that i have done.
that
i wouldn't have done.
that
i shouldn't have done.
that
oh
what does it matter?


i have a motorcycle helmet
and
a rotting pineapple.

a sink of dirty dishes
and
all i want to do is sleep.



this is what happens
when
you believe
a ruby tuesdays waitress.

moondoggies- night day

1.25.2012

abnormal pineapple day.

dancing in the dark
in
a lutheran church basement
with
stars floating around my head
and
in my eyes
and
under sweaty armpits.


typical, brooklyn.


booking a flight
to
bangkok
in the middle of the night.

and

mixing chemicals
to kill roaches.


singing
saves the day
with the pizza guy
unapologetically.


achy body
and
the smell of
eucalyptus.

1.23.2012

i am
going to
Shanghai



by means
of Thailand.



by means
of a romantic
Italian adventure

we forgot to take.


we'll always have Jersey City.
and
dating websites.
and
cute girl friends.
and
stunning sunsets.
and
bollywood video shoots.
and
a rainy island in the middle of lake george.
i want
eggs with a side of eggs.


i want
to throw my phone
out the drivers side window.


i want
to go out to dinner
when someone asks.

even if i know i shouldn't.


i want
to dance til 3am
after watching bball
and
eating dominos
and
hanging out in swanky apartments.


i want
to have
tons.
of.
sex.
while i still want to.


i want
you to watch
the flashes
through my bedroom window.


i want
my fingers
and
heart
to stop aching.


i want
to learn
the lesson
here.




quickly.

1.06.2012

Nick is moving to China
and
your best friend Justin
to my right
is a reminder
when
i'm

trying to forget.

maps on the ceiling
and
california in my phone.
and


there are people that
breathe fire.




for a living.

smoking will
make my skin break out.

and here
i thought
i had
nothing to say.

in a bar
tucked away in
Bushwick
with


the
blues.

1.04.2012

1.03.2012

Last meal from my bub.