things that make me happy

an attempt to list:

- silent conversations of shared space
- two chairs outside Stumptown
- aggressive passive aggressive
- passing notes
- unexpected guest
- menthe
- Plaid
- VooDoo
- New Orange/Yellow plastic chair

Cosmic Collisions
and dogs that bark
harmonious discord
in back alleys as Johns'
treat their ladies to dinner
at midnight.

I want to write on this page
I want to lie down on this counter
I want to do a handstand on the floor
I want to FUCK in the bathroom

I
fix my rattail
sip my coffee
blink my sore eyes
feel a rush of caffeine
<---- Not the rush I'm looking for
but a good alternative
lucky for $3 cause I'm
still quite literally
that "mentally ill drug
addicted starving 'artist'"
who doesn't notice flirting
doesn't know how to flirt
who doesn't care if the
word 'doesn't' isn't
literarily kosher.

Characteristics Of Staff:

Boils
like cysts, any orders, at that place.
The brown, is from the iodine, and I'm having brunch
with my family
but I can't (Yes, You Can)

take another hit off that pipe that has gone around,
all the
blood
and
infection
in IT.

The pressure builds up.
His brother had his phone.

You will know, when I have the money in hand, That's when I want it.

Arizona Green Tea w/ Honey and Ginseng
you just need to think about the things you say in that, watch out it's hot
it's keeping me from walking anywhere.

writing on a bus

after
waiting in the rain cold
after
waiting for the max cold
after
getting surprise gifts I
would have cried over
had I not been so cold
after
trekking across the city
with a bad idea bike cold

writing on a bus
warming up from the cold

Bright again
introduced to the right
but the left aches
warm fuzzy
hugging like a mother
covered in sheeps' wool
where the only thing of
importance is now
this moment
this second
this unabashed
WARMNESS

control handed over to
a higher power of
one's own choosing because


TaNgIbLe

is better than

disposable
unresponsive.

My words

are all I have
All I am
because my actions are


fleeting


and my emotions

couldn't do more than move mountains

a fraction
of
an
inch

My words
are all I have

all I am

because
I can never take them back

Never erase

the shit

that comes out of my mouth

the shit that this pen

writes.

It's white------------------------
-------opaque-------------------
--------yellow-------------------
---------------------------------
Loaded--------------------------
-------loaded--------------------
--------heated-------------------
----------hit, wiped--------------
-----------and passed on---------
----------------------------------
Scooped--------------------------
-------mixed---------------------
--------and rigged----------------
-----------------------------------
I can handle the-------------------
-------10 to 2---------------------
--------on my own----------------
-----------------------------------
--But you will have to help me-----
----------invade myself-----------
-----It makes me,-----------------
-------------------more connected
---------with you.-----------------

I mark time

in cigarettes
and frozen pizzas
in
most frequently played songs
and
stitches in fabric.

Staring at the mug
with a reverse relief
of a spanish galleon
breaking arctic ice
at 11:38 at night

I (Am)
Me (Being)
Self (Aware)
Sleep (Less)
Life (Less)
Hope (Full)

They showed up and I did the thing I said I wouldn't do, I let them in. They needed sleep. He was coming down pretty bad, cursing, speaking in a language only Dali would understand.

She's washing his feet in my bathtub and I'm afraid to fall asleep because I don't trust them. I did not trust myself back then.

Moans of discord escape from the bathroom and I don't know what to do. Vampires can't come into your house unlesss you invite them in.

I'm too nice sometimes, and I know that they probably appreciate me this moment, but in a while, when they re-up, it will be forgotten. I will just be another quitter.

They don't like quitters. Because we remind them of what they can't seem to ever find in their drugs, stability and worth.

I Could

take this
pill promised
to"knock my ass
out," but there's a
little pizza in the oven
I'm waiting to consume
to somehow plug this annoying
ache that plays out in my guts every
time I come home at night. I don't speak,
people who speak to themselves are crazy.
I just exist, listening to the same people sing
the same bullshit over and over again, while smoke
begins
to
drift
from
my
oven

This paper is cold

This pen is cold
This floor is cold
This room is cold
This apartment is cold
This building is cold
This block is cold
This city is cold
This state is cold
This country is cold
This planet is cold

and I
Don't own
a Warm Enough Coat.