chicken wing dinner

chicken wing dinner with
pitchfork men stalking about
remembering the "good ol' days"
10 snowy miles and a
couple a pennies in the pocket
chicken wing dinner with
asphalt movers
chasing down dreams
in beat up '57 chevys
chicken wing dinner with
porchswings fellas and their
bee-bop and skittlitity-dat-dat
shooomba-dat-dat
stale on their breath
chicken wing dinner under
fast food nation law
cell phones and big gulps
television world
i'll take divas for 400 please

it was sweet

a diamond ring shines through the bulletproof glass
laden with glances, stares and smeared fingerprints daily.
he sees his faint reflection among the rubies in the showcase
knowing full well he will one day share the wealth
his current-day endeavors provide
with the next strung-out crackwhore that comes along
but accidents happen sometimes
and you mistake coke for water
and a face for a soft bed at night
and a pillow for a rollingpin
and it all goes downhill from there

unless sweet did it

blue backpack blues

i only see you from afar now
but every day

any hunched back, any
small frame, any blue pack
my heart leaps a little
....maybe its you

and maybe i can finally say hi again
to the name i cannot stop saying to myself
for no particular reason
over and over
inside these cranial walls
even in the most mundane or simple of times

but if it is truly you in the distance
i'll probably look away,
put the headphones back on,
play green eyes
and maybe for the next 3 and a half minutes
i'll forget what color yours are.

and i can stop repeating your name

but as soon as chris martin belts out the chorus of the next track
"...the truth is...I miss you" ...

I'll breakdown again

i think i think too much
im staring at a photograph i havent seen in awhile
naivand youthfulness, synonymous with the times
i was unsure of
i think one day i'll look back on it all and wonder if it was all worth it
and i'll know when i see that smile
in that photograph i'll still have stored away somewhere
it damn well was

the fortune cookie

the fortune cookie read
"im just glad to know people like you exist"
and hippies, travelers, lawyers, and doctors agree
words just dont cut it.
because the new excitement felt was just that
new.
confused feelings portrayed outward
with the troubled times and upcoming exit sign
and the word forever.
but like any other, the fortune was discarded, set aside
with leftover newspapers and faintly seasoned chicken
next to a plate too big for one man to consume alone
but just enough for two to enjoy comfortably,
exchange conversation among the distorted radiation, blurred vision, ketchup stains and tainted water,
and exit
hand in hand
sharing a smile only they will understand.