birds are singing better 

than any top 40 drivel

a blue sky encompasses me

as I retrohale Latakia

the candle of restlessness 

burns fast

while my contempt 

constantly expands

ambiguous realities

cascade down upon me

up is down and down is the norm

glued to the bottom of living

anticipating anything

but nothing happens

fortunately or unfortunately

that is expected 

a sword of delusion

enters my heart

I extract the blade

to find it dripping 

with culpable confusion

sentimental reflections bring to mind 

memories of winters loss

chemicals do nothing to mend the hurt

only a temporary reprieve

an aching

guttural 

gnawing of emptiness

never to be whole again

my wife got home from 

walking with a friend of hers

she melted into a plush chair with a snack

“I’m so tired” she exhausted 

I asked why she was so tired

“we walked two miles in heels”

I turned abruptly and interrogated 

“in heels?”

I was bombarded by visions 

of my wife and her friend 

walking the streets of some posh 

neighborhood in Spanish Fort

looking for wealthy johns

she finished her bite of sandwich

“no…and hills”

I was at the kitchen table

attempting to write one night

when I noticed my wife

watching a television show

on the murder porn channel

about a back-alley abortionist

I was shocked

I’d always thought that landscaping

was the perfect business model

with quick startup and

extremely low overhead

however

I was mistaken

a lawnmower costs

a hell of a lot more than a

clothes hanger

half a pie moon hovering

while fleeting 

mist-like clouds float on

causing a blurry outer edge

there’s a slight breeze

then there’s not

the air is unseasonably sticky

I drift off into the cityscape

hotel rooms and offices

light up and dim randomly

like shooting stars out of the 

corner of one’s eye 

jutting structures 

offer a multitude of colors

with some ever-changing

the city’s sound is comforting 

constant hums of

industrial a.c. units

lull me into a trance-like state

only to be jarred back by

sirens or honking horns

fortunately

at these heights 

people don’t even exist

I was cutting grass

my wife shoveling dog shit

I began to feel weak 

confused and faint

is this my time I thought

my mother passed at 49 

my dad at 56

now in my mid-forties

I have to expect my time 

could come whenever

checked blood pressure

it was dangerously low

it’s never been low

always on the high side

that’s what took mom out

I’ve been struggling to get 

that under control for sometime 

my loving wife took up the slack on the yard 

as I rested and slowly began to feel better

not today

I thought

I went outside to get the grill ready 

cracked a cold one

fired up a cigar

looked around and 

took in the beauty of life

Henry loved Rosco ever since his dad brought him home over ten years ago. The two of them have been practically inseparable since. The only time spent apart was when Henry attended school. This day was pretty much like any other, with Henry and Rosco out in the large field beside the house. Rosco’s wheat-colored coat was shimmering in the blistering sun as Henry stroked his beloved friend. This brought back many pleasant memories of the two running and playing, or just lying around in that field. 

Henry got up, wiped his tears, picked up the shovel, and continued digging.

I opened the door for a coworker

who was struggling with bags

he thanked me and I said

“well, that’s my good 

deed for the day”

he asked

“that’s your only deed

for the day huh?”

I said

“fuck no

my only GOOD deed

I’ve got some real evil shit

in the works as we speak”

another glass of whiskey

although 

this particular fluid

is a top shelf splurge

another cigar

but this stick 

has achieved soaring ranks

in magazines and online

you would think I’d feel classy

higher and happier than ever

indulging in such sumptuous vices

but I still feel like

the lousy representation 

of a human I always am

no matter what’s in my glass

or between my fingers

some things never change

and most things rarely

change my mind

however

birds repetitiously eat

the same monotonous shit everyday

but they are chirping loud as ever

Making Mother Proud

my dog has had problems

taking a shit as of late

he doesn’t have stomach issues

or anything of that nature

an asshole mockingbird has been

attacking him mercilessly

squatting and vulnerable

only to be interrupted mid-shit

by unruly flapping and 

pecks to his hind parts

today that stopped

I walked out of the house

to see the flying prick swoop

down at my dog as he tucked

his tail and ran frantically inside

the bird landed on an old stump

I retrieved a BB gun pistol that was

obviously fabricated before the 1970’s

I loaded the BB in the chamber

ratcheted the pump 10 times

cocked it and slowly made my way

toward the bird with my dog closely behind

I aimed and fired

the bird was hit and flew into the fence 

coming to rest under the fig tree

now I despise killing anything

but I love my dog and firmly believe

that he should be able to shit in

peace in his own yard

I showed the dead bird respect by 

giving it a proper yet fitting goodbye

I buried it next to the back fence

where I bury all of my dog’s shit

I’m not spending my

‘free time’ 

as wisely as I should

I sat down to flesh out 

some ideas that I’ve 

previously written

when I got distracted

by a motherfucker

pulling a boat

so I’ve been writing less

it’s been eating at my existence

nothing creative bursting

only oozing out

a smattering of decent offerings 

but no solid traction or consistency

well, I did write a review for a 

company that did some work for me

this review was well worded 

and thought out

easily 

the best 

most glowing review

this company will ever get

I guess that’s something

I’ll put down the revolver

the St. Louis Cardinals

are murdering the Atlanta Braves

at the moment

it’s the bottom of the 7th and

the Braves are losing 9 to 1

my father absolutely loved the Braves

I’ve been to several games

with him throughout the years

the last trip stands out immensely

it was a year before his death

the cancer had come back with a vengeance

he wanted to stay healthy as long as 

possible and not have the chemo kill him

despite his shortness of breath

and my multiple suggestions to turn back

he made it to the top of Stone Mountain

one last time

it seems somewhat poignant

watching the Braves 

get annihilated on Father’s Day

to see how one reacts to adversity

and overcomes challenges

in the face of utter darkness

is inspiring and devastating

all at the same time

the game ended after the third out

it’s a new rule this year

double-header games are limited

to 7 innings each

I was unaware of this until now

you just never know when the end will be

I was outside cutting my front lawn

when my neighbor approached me 

“You’re not going to cut it in 

a diamond pattern like Phil?”

I looked over at Phil’s place

then back to my neighbor

I said, “No.

No, I’m not.

Phil doesn’t work 50 or more hours 

a week in a scorching warehouse. 

Phil is sober.

Also, Phil is a pretentious douche.”

I continued cutting with a crooked smile.