(from 1998)

The children laugh as they hack away,
The puppies’ throats opening, blood-red,
Pouring thick, wet onto cold, gray concrete.
Little screams and yelps mingle twisted
Against air aglow with after-fog’s clarity,
The Day’s sky smiling gold on echoes of Death.

There is no heart in heart-less souls ripped
Frying from burnt-out bodies beaten with forgotten ideals.
Will there be forgiveness or is such a thought
Just a thought conned from the minds of idols
Built with hands hopeless with a hope that will never exist?

One last crash of metallic flash, glinting steel
Shining beneath a crimson bed of dander,
And the children saunter off, teary-eyed,
A last drying drop suddenly glistening
With the heartening sight of another kennel just ahead.

I couldn’t look back
Because I’d never leave.
But I look forward
To seeing you again.
Next time, I’ll stay
And never let go.

I say
the things
you hate
to hear
because
I love you so much.

Sometimes I write
just to write
like a lover who fucks you
and forgets who you are.

A lover - if I dare
to call myself a lover
(I've got the flesh,
the sweat,
the cock,
the cum,
but not the passion, right?) -
can forget who you are.

But a poet - if I dare
to call myself a poet
(I've got the line breaks,
the economy of words,
the music,
the muse,
but not the rhyme, right?) -
cannot forget who you are.

Can he?

my mother
my mother
my mother
my mother said
you never really know anyone

but i know you
i used to be inside you
sucking your guts through my guts
i used to be outside you
sucking your tits through my mouth
i used to be miles from you
sucking your thoughts through my ears
i used to be next to you
sucking your body's heat with my body
but i know you

my mother
my mother
my mother
my mother said
you never really know anyone

It's hard enough
to walk in the dark
with your head turned back around.
Though I guess
if you try hard enough
you can make your way by sound.

We waste away
a little each day.
Soon, we'll be Nothing
again.