In Truth (false)

Come back here. We haven't forgotten you yet. Keep up the love, lessen the contact. Leave me alone for now; I'm in deep distraction. Leave it to God to sing your praise.
I've lost my words.
Hold your breath in prayer. True blue - cerulean - like Greek skies holding silver clouds, one day you will reach up there and, on that day, you will find your arms are short and, anyway, you recited the wrong prayers.
The Benedictine was being a dick just before the Philistine refilled my wine. We drank too much, he and I. But for the Benedictine, he's mortally sober. It's sad, really.

Tea Party

Turn the table upside down, sit on the legs. Pour the tea into the teacup on the floor.
Do you cream? A little, yes.
Lean over and moan. Lift the teacup to your lips. Sip. Remain seated. Swallow. Savor with closed eyes. Say thank you. Stand up slowly. Leave slowly.

Antiquated

Man kills boy - sentenced to death.
Man sends thousands of boys to kill thousands of boys.
Whether his reasons are good or not, he is excused. He is Commander in Chief.
He sends robots to kill people. No eye bats.
He sends agents to assassinate in foreign places.
At home, people debate having sex in one's ass.
Natural disasters blamed on secularism. No one mentions all the death.
If the people are preoccupied finding a scapegoat for their own suffering -
their poverty, their inequality -
then they will never find the true culprit: Active Ignorance.
That their vote matters, that they obey the law, believing freedom is found in paperwork -
these are matters of Active Ignorance.


The threats of a common outlaw are not as bad as those by other men who lawfully bind and destroy others.
Call me an outlaw, but really, I'm on your side.

(a part of) Me

I will tell you. (Who else could I tell?)
I'm afraid to say for fear someone finds out. I associate myself with brave men and women, young men and women and older, yet I have not given myself the title. (I have always hated titles. My name is Brian. That is all.) And it kills me not to be open about it. What is there to be open about? Lusty watching eyes, intrigue. I have felt this so long now. I know the nervousness in my stomach in those moments my consciousness aligns with another, someone who is not afraid to look me in the eye and hold the look, because we are talking directly to each other. The pattering joy of my heart. I know the knotting sensation in my gut thinking what it might be to be sensually involved with a man.

Coping Disorder

When I die
what will you say
to reconcile
that I don't believe
what you believe?

When I die
will you cry because
when you die
you will not find me
in Heaven?

We get along, You and I.
We agree
that each other
tries to satisfy
the needs of our own hearts
and the needs of others.

"Good" is not good enough,
so, how will you
satisfy your grieving heart
that I am in Hell
only for not believing
what you believe?

A Child Said...

It is difficult, but possible, to celebrate Life under the bombardment of media's constant reminders of the things which separate us. It's easier to celebrate Life on an individual basis. So, if we turn off the news, fold up the paper, tune out the radio, and spend time with each other, the differences will not go away, but they will not be at the forefront of our minds when we meet someone who, before anything else, smiles and says "Hello."

Lou's

The vomit bar
the dreadful pile
on the bathroom floor;
can't take it outside anymore,
citations for drunk in public,
public indecency.
The pile splays across
bathroom tiles
left for the bartender
to mop. He drops three more
biscuits in the urinal
to kill the smell.
Incidentally, these biscuits
make me want to vomit.
"Sorry, Mister."