jesus had baggage, too

it don't matter who you are
it don't matter who you meet
you could be the rich guy down the street
driving your lexus up and down the block
or the doctor with the degree
or the homeless guy with only one sock
everyone, and i mean everyone
has baggage
some hate to carry it
it really puts them out
hauling those big ass bags around
others just keep switching hands
saying they can manage
just as long as they get a break
from the weight in their hands
still others won't admit they carry
anything at all
they keep walking around hunched over
pretending they stand six feet tall
but what you gotta remember
is that even jesus had baggage
he knew what was coming and he couldn't quite explain
the something that was coming
the inevitability of the pain
he sweat tears of blood
he prayed to his god and even then
even then
even then
he had to finish what he started
he couldn't lay down his bags
and say "it is finished" or
"i'm done"
until the last nail had been blasted
into his bone

thanksgiving eve '06

village inn filled with
senior citizens enjoying the discounts
all dressed up in pressed blouses
and sparkling brooches
old man pants hiked up
with button down shirts
and thin hair parted to shine
the pretty waitress holding the
platter of pancakes in the menu
rivals the waitress who now takes our order
her nametag says wanda
with hasty hair pulled back uncovering
thick blue eye-shadow and fifty cent mascara
and leather skin desinged by years of devotion
to no-filter cigarettes
she works for her twenty percent
in this small town metropolis
on the river's edge

i'm begging you

why don't you quit?
why don't you hang it up?
please, it's for the best
trust me
everyone knows it's time
everyone knows
everyone
what are your intentions?
were they ever true?
did you ever mean to be here?
was this all a mistake?
let me show you the door
i'll even help you pack
there, there now
it will all be okay
see, you're like the elephant
the big one sitting in the room
that everyone is stepping around
don't worry
i'll make a bigger exit
we'll even applaud you
as you leave

pulse points

Ceramic barbie in a white lab coat
painted to perfection
nails manicured in a frenchly way
hair the product of massive amounts
and interesting combinations
of spray and mousse and gel
and a fragrant smell bullying its way
through the thick air and into my
nostrils, she eyes me up
and down, and back up again
she does not like what she sees
because what she sees has no promise
because what she sees has no value to her
because what she sees is me standing there
with my ten dollar coat and my hat-head hair
and with her smile just as fake as
I knew it would be,
she tries to sell me just what i need
to make my girl fall madly in love with me

"How are you?"

you walk by
and say hi
you might even throw out a
how are you
just to get by
but you know you don't
want to know
how they are
you know you don't really
care if they live or die
you just want "good"
or maybe a "fine"
so you can keep walking that line
from your point A to your point B
and if you keep moving
as you are asking the question
maybe they'll get the idea
that you aren't asking
because you want an answer
you are asking
because you don't

night out

it was a night out with
people i sometimes admire
people i occasionally desire
to be closer to where i am
and we got together for a night
of talking and laughter and
the occasional friendly banter
in the booth at the bar
with the soft sounds of guitar
as we drank peace to the world
and goodwill to all men

letter of apology

Honey,
I feel bad that you
feel bad about that comment
I made the other day,
which I didn't mean in a bad way,
but if you took it that way,
I apologize.
So please stop feeling bad
so I can stop feeling bad
that we are both feeling bad.
I guess what I'm saying is,
it was my bad.

Love,
Me

there's only one way to go from here

sometimes we make things
so damn complicated
sometimes we make things
hard just for spite
sometimes we make things
up just to cause ourselves
pain like a sliver trapped
under our fingernail
and sometimes we let it
linger for a little too long
that it becomes embedded
too deep to extract

the question

everytime i log off
everytime i end my session
the question is there
the suggestion is made

naughty or nice?

i have no response
wait, let me think
nope, again
i have no response

nothing that is going to make
a difference anyway

tis the season for an early burnout

it's november
and already the turning of the dial
sends forth the songs
of a season which hasn't
officially begun
but in the hearts and minds
of the DJs and the shoppers alike
the halls are being decked
and commercialism has won

boarding the plane

the strangers of all colors and times
all standing in a line
holding their boarding pass
as if it were their very ticket
into heaven
as if the paper in their hands
bore the message
the one message
that God would read
as if the words printed on the page
would cause His mighty right hand
to raise into the air
hang for a moment with a certainty,
and then
with its awesomeness
with its power
come crashing down upon that very paper
and leave a stamp-mark in red
with words that said:
verified.

the past does not exist

she packed her freckles
and traveled distance and miles
putting space between her now
and her then
little girl
left the cows and the corn
for the city of wind
now all she has is time
to discover
the who
the why
the when

wine maker

my father sells cars
mostly jeeps and vans
but thought he'd have a hand
at making wine
opened the first bottle five minutes ago
i say stick to the cars, old man