two poems

Cyclic Karma

Audience:

The y-shaped entry
To paradise allows
For a man’s ego
To be attached to panty
lines,
For desire to grow
Out of another man’s misfortune
(i.e. she leaves him for me)

(i am a shepherd of karmic retribution)

Victim:

You are
Nothing more than
A reminder of my shadow,
How I come and go
With the sun—
Not even laying my head
Down to rest upon your
Open heart.

This is why I am here—
To leave you.

--

After Everclear

The party was a blue-cup shenanigan
and my dance was one of spectacle,
of leaning back and waving my arms
from side to side, where laughter was
not my friend.

intoxication allows for one to fall
In love with the moment a woman
Speaks (no matter who ‘she’ is),
with cold fingers
Caressing the inner-arm of expectation—
That the night never ends,
the high never come crashing down
On your head, a hangover
of sorts, where you are asleep
and awake, all at once.

He told me not to fuck with it,
I told me not to fuck with it
And now it fucks with me
Aided by rum, weed and nas’s
Illmatic—dictating whether
I remember anything or everything
And all in-between.

Pissing in front of a mirror,
I know not myself other than
My shaft, erect, flaccid, erect again.
She won’t remember me;
I take the number anyway.
We come to the car to find
A Cracked windshield and I can’t
Stand up, no room between
Me and the floor for anger—

I am not responsible,
The devil made me do it.