words of a people aligned in their perfect order
sleep sleep – where are you now? on Benedryl max strength, ultram, cymbalta and norco – I should have passed out mid OJ guzzle – maybe to add whiskey.
I love for southern France,
with my wife,
beautiful and windy
like chicago,
but more beautiful,
like my wife.
– this at one thirty-six am, drunk off medications, OJ but no whiskey. – I’ll take four fingers of your finest, please.
Finished applying for Disability and now onto the appointment with SS for the SSI – this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done and now the bees are circling – damn allergy is going to bring me inside for awhile. I’ve had to beat my heart against this wall to do it, admit that I am disabled and unable to secure work, meaningful or not – any work. There are only so many hours in the day that I can be really active and usually those are spent on my wife and son, writing and Legos. Legos are the shit.
Things are starting to get easier – I think. I may have a cold or allergies – probably allergies but the sandbox is finished and beautiful. I have to recharge the air filters on my motorcycle and truck and finish the application for disability and SSI – these are both things I’ve been putting off but can no longer.
7.62x54R
the madman levels his rifle
in calm calculus
bright cloudless day
78 degrees F (23 c).
7.62x54R forced from the barrel
spinning in terminal glory.
the poet stands, taciturn,
in the street with notebook
pencil to paper
calm calculus
accepting and falls to
his knees. Last poem penned
in darkest red.
78 degrees F (23 c)
– Hoc Scripsi
but the coffee is running low and I’ve a sandbox to finish building.
the platitudes of willful resemblance 