fireside

Let me round out this trio of uppers.
This was pretty funny - I was at the Rokery with Michelle; being really cool, we took books to a wine bar to sit and read, and scribble a bit. Some awkward couple kept pestering us about what she was writing - clearly, a first date that was sailing like the Titanic's maiden voyage - until we co-wrote a poem with them.

Being a dick, I sat and kept writing my own off their inspiration.


firelight
fireside
locking eyes, brushing thighs
bottle of red, bottle of whites
you don't need to be an American
to blend 'em with the blues
baby, I'm burnin' for you
but let me tell you
there is no volume here
just a chemical reaction
oxidation, burning
gasping for air
you watch 'em dance
but there's no mass
just a reaction
do you take
I do
I give up
I choose you, to give in
when
in the end
we chase bottles
because
dreams have such quick little feet
it becomes simpler
to chase
clockwork vodka Thursdays with
half price Tuesdays
waving white flags
far short of the finish line
this checkered path
is no yellow brick road
but it ends in gleaming lights
incandescent bulbs
bar light burning negative images
at the finish line, embarrassed
firelight flickers
fireside glinting off
B-cup, D-cup
hung out, given up
reds are bitter
but sweeter to quitters
ball and chain a preamble
we stack shackles on our hackles
rack our spirits
tip flasks to our dreams
slip past
their quick little feet
run all over the floor
right out the door
the silver linings
ripped out of clouds
and left in puddles
drying into the carpet
the tears dreams deferred
shhh
if you listen
you can hear the bottle pop
there in the silences
where our thoughts don't stop
but we stop caring
enough to share them
where we sit back
sip wine
suck thoughts
swallow needs
and drown our dreams
by the fire with the
firelight starlight starbright
I wish I may I wish I might
finally take flight
breathe a dream
worth chasing
through these lonely neon nights
not gone my hope not quite
since these barlights
are not bright enough
to show me the wrong
in only half-right
we might stumble outside together
I'd give you the keys
but I no longer drive
I don't try to pretend
my hands are on the wheel
on life's highway
I stay safe on the bus, desperate
trying to catch someone's eye
I choose you
let's get off together
make this moment our own
life can pass us by
fireside
drifting eyes, heaving thighs
we can mix the reds
with the whites
scream fuck dreams
and their tiny little shoes
because baby
I don't burn for you
just a chemical reaction
oxidation and smoldering ashes
girl I don't burn for you
you don't dream for me
we've got air to breathe
no gasping with no flames dancing
not this fire
just a chemical reaction
no mass, no volume
everybody talks, nobody listens
everybody hears, nobody cares
no volume, no mass
just a catechism
do you take
I do
I give up
I choose you, to give in

all's fair

The phrase was too rich to not plum. I've got one about math and love in the works, too, because I'm a geek. :-)

all's fair in love and war
I hear that
but I always end up
with blood on my hands
a heart shattered and smeared
all around my mouth
I guess
it was just that time of the month
for fighting
love is bloody trenches
dug all over your back
you can make it, fake it
with two bowls of sweet, sticky green
you can have that feeling, passion
of actually caring about someone
if there's enough smoke
to blot out the shrapnel
this is total war
because we belong together
we should be together
is an assassin's heart – shaped invitation
to Custer's Last Stand
where everybody's an Indian
we both end up scalped
scalloped
insides ripped out
left gasping on kitchen floors
dropped on phone calls
these are war crimes
so all's fair in love and war
because we wage this
no holds barred
mutually assured destruction
so take off your clothes
and the Geneva Conventions
because I promise war crimes
I will tie you to the bed
and fuck you screaming
I promise
I'll only waterboard you
if it means screaming for help
in the shower
I promise
the things I could do
with my tongue
you could call torture
I could slide inside you
but
I like the way your legs shake
on my cheeks
maybe that's why
I never hear the ambush
the silencers pressed
against someone else's forehead
some people
will do anything to stay alive
at all costs, they find their way
dying wrapped in someone's arms
always, buying life with someone
I've been there, done that
blown my chance
this is war – you need hope
a foxhole buddy
who watches your back
whose back you watch
who you trust
the lucky
find that someone to duck down with
because
they're ready to go out together
guns blazing
now and forever
but so many
are just looking for someone
to hide with
nobody likes facing the end alone
but when you bunker scared
with that kind of foxhole buddy
- all's fair in love and war
they may sneak undercover
searching for the sniper
with a sharper aim than you
that's a losing situation
a prisoner's dilemma
fuck or be fucked
you've seen it so many times
the best defense is a strong offense
online intelligence gathering
status update countersurveillance
and unanswered questions
you can make it
through the conversational minefields
only to miss the lipstick ambush
everything's fair
and Cupid's shock troops
are dancing twenty abreast
shaking mindless and gyrating
keeping the beat to the rhythm of the war drums
Lady Gaga, John Legend, and Bon Jovi remixes
we move divide and conquer
but this is scorched earth
scissorblade hips knifing
Nagasaki Normandy Nuremberg
all with eyes closed
all's fair in love and war
but we're just hoping
there's some way
to apologize for our behavior

the final countdown

I didn't really want to post this until it was less autobiographical.

erses from the Bible of the totally fucked
once more into the breach
one more day, and we will be released
we, we lie a lot
we have to
together, two by two
these red eyes like taillights
blown corneas, swollen veins
driver's eyes alike
they flow past blown
streaming everywhere you don't want to be
Visa flips either way, and it slides so easy
500, twice, two signatures
a white towel and a titty fuck
in a bar outside the airport
three numbers on the back
somehow, this security features
never prevents you
from taking last call
and pounding it unconscious
sixteen ounces at a time
four hours later, four lanes wide
flying red lights, two at a time
all of them staring backward bleary
glaring, hungover, hating hearing
the clock toll in the morning
five o'clock roll call
snap to attention
time to go everywhere you don't want to be
five fingers gripping the wheel
shaking aching for some baking
five fingers wrapped around the bong the glass
drink it deep
BAC will guide you to sleep
do you drink and drive?
do you really live and thrive?
is this what we live for
to barely survive until we die
these five fingers, they're slippin
I'm sippin I'm tripping I'm drinkin I'm rippin
trying to stay focused on this mission
but I'm confused, because I keep paying my dues
and every day the paper feels like old news
the whole world is cast in mindless gray hues
except those red eyes, streaming two by two
I don't know
maybe none of this is touchin' you
but I can't handle this
but I can't breathe this
I say I don't want to leave it,
but six nights a week
I'm out of it
six feet tall, he had a green throwback
a shoulder holster
scribbling deathbed thoughts at the Big Fat Greek
irony, I almost met my end in the street
but there's nothing missing, nothing mattered
no difference
six hours later
seventy-fifth at seven am
the HOVA lane officially exists
but it's so early no one's at this party
even God slept on the seventh
I'm still mainlining coffee bean cocaine
eight beats in a bar
count 'em
count 'em to keep yourself steady
at eight when you're already topped off
already been home stepped out to step off
to soar the things I can't do without
don't really need 'em, just chug 'em, just breathe 'em
nine exits
gotta hustle, gotta go
don't feel great, can't be late
hate feeling this way
hate that I don't even feel alone
maybe this is what it's like to be grown
nine exits worth of miserable red taillights
drivers' eyes alike
glaring staring hating hearing
the clock toll in the morning
five o clock fuck it all roll call
you everywhere you never wanted to be --

good things come to those who wait,
but I have never been a patient person.

Let my Toyota's tiny ten-inch speakers
bump this final countdown
nine thousand more yards
I can already see the bridge pylon
closing in like Amistad's freedom
eight legs of old fears playing mental tricks
crawling on my windshield
but I can see sanity through the slime
seven levels of hell
the darkest part of depression
the deepest secret of the bells
don't ask, don't tell
six sibling's I'll fail
all angels I hailed
I dreamt them in dreams
so I could tell them tall tales
five thousand miles
for six month spells
round trip
is more than Scherezade could fill
I slipped, I need, I miss
my baby sister's kiss
never put a razor to my wrist
but there's a beauty burning in this
four cylinders aching
four chambers in the human heart, all breaking
three seconds to impact
this is understanding in a car crash
two by two, red eye river
flows too exhausted to ask why
two hands on the wheel
look those lights in the eye
and turn to the side
do it right
everybody after's gonna know
because two by two we all flow
burning, glaring, hating, all alone
just one, all alone
it's my time
i'm sick of driving in the lines
I've lost my shine
the 59th street pylons
are lookin' mighty fine