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Friday, March 8, 2013

Narcotics and Knives


I have a new book coming out on Interior Noise Press. Some of these will be submitted for it, others will not. Laying on a pile of poems and  just posting them as I feel it. So, to read the poems that won't be on here...you have to buy the book! I'll let you know when its coming out, shouldn't be till later this year which gives me plenty of stuff to post stuff, and stash stuff, to make an incredible book.


Welcome to my poetry blog, thanks for stopping by



                                                    Narcotics and Knives


I think if I were to get rid of my television, I would add about 20 years to my life. Which is precisely why I sleep with it on every single day.
I spend my time pecking away on my keyboard, Like the chicken that I am
And pacing the floor, chain‐smoking to keep my hands away from the knife.



Fast foods, narcotics, cigarettes, carbon monoxide, moths are everywhere…and there’s light bulbs over my lipstick…keeping my hands away from the knife.

Even the cutting edge poets, have dulled their senses so much that they just can’t fall down low enough.



But I can’t say these little white pills haven’t been a friend of mine, Especially when I’m already laying down.


The darkness even keeps me from the knife. And today it hurts me to the moon and back A moon which I don’t believe in anymore.


I just can’t die fast enough.



And if it weren’t for the music I can sometimes get from the words, I would’ve traded in my pen for a bottle years ago.


I choose between Narcotics and Knives everyday. Today, it’s great to be high,
Tomorrow, I’m gonna flip a coin.






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