Death of an Artist

Art is a pain in the ass.
A dark urine stain on new slacks.
The scent of tainted water
in a cup of the father.
How sinful we artists are
with our hands bleeding, charred
and fingers barely, feeling,
diligently secreting
a lovely aneurism.
This sadomasochism
upon a virgin white spread
some say is all but dead.
Looking into the casket,
raising Brian's hatchet,
I see fear in those eyes.
You, artist, are still alive.
But winter is coming.
Can't you hear the rumbling
rolling out across the page?
Hide with the actors backstage.
Until I return, bleed on
for scars will never be gone
if you pick at the black scab
to leak talent you don't have.

the Wind against you

(note: blogger right justified everything... so the intro and the conclusion are suppose to be all floaty across the page. Oh well, it still reads well enough.)

beautiful day
traveling topless
the Wind
against you
the most
wondrous
feeling
you start
breathing
backwards.
breathe in
can you remember how?
filter out the venom
in the air, her noxious perfume,
reach for those sensitive places
scars and bruises become fiery
and you slowly drift off
only to lose your heart and soul
self-control

flashback
2:32AM last night
Deep within
a limping lizard
struggling wildly
in my mouth
Get out!
Ohhh please Maria!
you took my self-
you took my self-control.

pull the clutch, left side push
shift up and to the right
try to forget that night
and that bruise on your tush

you find yourself at Tom’s Diner.
sitting down at the counter, alone
nobody cares except for you
and maybe the lady staring
through the two-way mirror.
she’s sort of cute.
and then it starts to rain.

what a beautiful day.

all I wanna do,
I tell myself at the lonely bar,
is to hear you say
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me,
Kill Me.
I want to save you from yourself
and those unforgivable hotdogs that line
the dark, stained toilet bowl.
help me save you, tell me how
how to save a life.

that night was the end of the line,
I crossed the barrier between us
looking back
looking back at myself
Oblivious
you never wanted to be saved.
damaged, abandoned, companionless,
I wandered the ongoing fantasy.
blue fields
filling both eyes.