Pants

Gorgeous green lights hum
melancholy love songs,
flooding the scene
along a champagne glow.
Gruesome gone with a pair of lips,
forgotten as surprise rupture
of my own, tumbling
with the speed of the flakes
resting on my sleeve.

One out of four
have no face.
Hidden underneath
tight-knit woven cotton
exceptionally
clear-headed thinking.

My own two legs
curse me,
leaving,
two arms
dull and worn by
cracked concrete
and black ice.
I'll grow wheels,
find those damn legs
and give them
just what they deserve.

The Philosopher Takes a Drink of Three Dollar Wine and Laughs at Me

A gem
of
borrowed inspiration
from
an overwritten, overquoted
piece of melodrama that
is often overlooked.
I'll remember to use that,
in another poem.

A Soundtrack Not My Own

Dancing with a decade old
bottle of gin
but new to me,
I called for you
but you stared blankly
and the snow fell
and it still is falling.
I wonder if it will be there
whenever I wake up.
Paul says hello.

Just prose

We picked out the bunch that held the most flowers. Standing underneath the hum of three foot long lightbulbs, our sneakers seemed to squeak with the same anticipation normally reserved for first dates.
We were only seventeen, that silly, in-between age that has no monumental achievements associated with it, just sandwiched between sweetness and legality. We decided on two bunches of miniature carnations, only seven bucks, there had to have been more then forty or so stemmed flowers. Our anticipation grew as we veered slowly onto the Stevensen.

That night wasn't the first time we had done something like this. One of our favorite teenage past times in fact. The first time we handed out flowers for the sake of brightening a strangers day was actually during the day. We canvassed the Loop with the buds in our hands, handing away flowers to anyone who would take it. The reactions were just as diverse as the people. The worst being apathy or a passing ridicule but the best were the smiles and laughter of someone experiencing something different within the monotony. That is the essence of our philosophy. We were young but somehow even in our youth we were able to recognize the importance of celebrating normalcy to transcend it to a daily revolution of thought.

It Doesn't Have to be That Way

Imagine all of the things that former lovers would breathe into one another,
when the room was lit from a streetlight outside,
the background music was the stale static of the apartments
surrounding while they lay naked,
making promises
they one day broke.