STATISTICS (I’D LIKE TO SEE)

Total national dollars spent on advertising vs. the actual calculated profits thereby derived.

Articles of clothing the average American owns vs. the amount he/she typically wears.

Number of yearly U.S. homicides vs. the number committed on tv and film in the corresponding year.

People who purchase critically acclaimed books vs. those who finish reading them.

Physical risks of secondhand smoke vs. highway automobile exhaust.

Percentage of lies I tell others vs. the number of lies I tell myself.

TWENTY THREE

I like to think that I have well rehearsed brushing my teeth.

I like to think that I am intuitively correct in the midst of conflict.

I like to think that I am evaluated by passersby on the swiftness of my gait.

I like to think that I possess a ‘Rosebud’ of sorts, which a reporter will someday search for.

I like to think that I stumble upon concepts everyday which might intrigue all sides of the scientific community.

I like to think that I am a seasoned singer, with the appropriate milage and neglect for a stellar rock career.

I like to think that I am destined to play a minimal, yet well respected role in society.

I like to think that I impart more wisdom than I have actually endured.

-

But what am I?

One step closer to knowing.

May 23rd, 1989.

LOADED GUNS

I’m sorry for the loss you never had.

I’m sorry this was someone else’s day.

I’m sorry you had enough skills to do nothing with them.

I’m sorry that you want the opposite of what you asked for.

I’m sorry life gave you the option of stating your hurried opinion.

I’m sorry that I didn’t love you the way you thought you deserved.

TIMES/TIES/TIRES

The things brand new:
- Brushing teeth 3 times daily.
- Backing by guitar/vocals an inarguably pop-sounding band.
- Increasing my music vocabulary by reading Alex Ross.
- Attending Powell’s book lectures and falling asleep just like college.
- Paying a parking ticket.

The things still true:
- Living alone, all aspects etc.

THE CALMING STRIKE

These words are stilled
The rapturous homestead
I am intended
A stand eased yet fleeting
-
Removed of recognition
Who are we outside we?
Retreatists and widows
Anchored hopes
Tilling regretted earth
A crimson line
An unfavorable season
Are we empty or unfilled?
Taken yet not bled
-
A stand fleeting not eased
Am I intended?
The rapturous homestead
These words are stilled

THIS ARDENT FAULT

Love is simpler without responsibility.

A BREATH

There was a time when I once believed in simple behavior but currently as an attempted adult I find tender truth belongs with the bottled misconceptions of surrounding ages like my struggles with acne and physical manifestations of desire which are now carried so valiantly and yet still worried over during intimate trials of private personhood for whom very few are available for honest rebuttal and rebuke of these discrepancies in which I hold court yet am solely responsible within due to innate operation still not honestly portrayed.

TO THOSE WHO DECLARE:

True knowledge and mere confidence are not the same.

CONTEXT REMOVED

… and that was when I started reading several female-curated blogs.

… we’re at least 4 games of scrabble away from there.

… so I climbed out the window and wandered the park till they left.

… just leave me a bill and I’ll be happy again.

… they’re like friends, but without the friendly part.

STREET CRED (LACK THEROF)

No tattoos.

No broken bones.

No missing teeth.

No family divorces.

I’ve never been hungover.

I’ve never taken a sick day.

I did not drink before my 21st.

I did not party on my 21st.

Without external struggle.

Without a college degree.

Without monetary debt.

Without pets.