The Great Bike Ride

Top of my driveway, or top of the world?

Gazing out upon the ominous galaxy

that is my neighborhood,

legs spread over a bicycle seat

my brain convinces me I am God.

She is bathed in amber streetlight,

with a jacket of jagged shadows.

Soon I will be immersed in flickering gold

and tendrils of black.

While the normal folk sleep,

a veil to this beauty lain over their eyes,

I am a fire.

The only passionate soul still fighting.

The recipe:

6 Tramadol

3 Klonopin

4 Tylenol 3s

Take the whole handful at once.

Wash down with tequila and coke.

Let it sit for forty-five minutes.

And now I’m off.

Down the driveway and into oblivion.

The asphalt like a flock doves,

soars beneath my feet

and begs my eyes to join their folly.

A white watcher screams as I zip by,

its ambushing glare sparks

a brilliant elevation in consciousness

and I continue my mission

to tear through any familiar reality.

The amber and black,

the white glare,

the garage doors and dark windows

begin to blur

like I’m in a Monet.

Blood like warm maple syrup,

I seep with euphoria,

and believe I will evaporate

into the satin starlight high above.

A mission to tear down the wall,

attacked with gusto, under threat of death.

Slicing through what they see

as a stagnant world.

But it speaks to me of surrealism,

and the importance of the sublime.

It welcomes only those with the guts to face it.

With the aid of my trusty chemicals

I face this beast of perception without fear.

And by the end of this night,

I will have seen more than most.

Sharpest One In the Drawer

Sleek and violent.

Deaf and silent

I wait.

Wait on the edge,

as is my life.

Wait on the shelf,

a collector of dust.

Heavy like sin.

Sin in the crevices

dried in.

I bring relief,

Sawing through the flesh of grief.

Blood from the forearm

Is a hand-job.

I’m still a virgin

to death.

Serrated digits clasped in prayer,

waiting for rage without outlet.

Because I mangle

not strangle.

Open

not close.

The adrenalin

I brought you

will dry

those pain soaked eyes.

You’ve turned me on.

Now I’m dripping wet

with rose colored madness.

I live for your blood,

I feed off your sadness.

I need it.

Addicted.

How dare you hold back.

My life is all edge,

rigid and sharp.

While your safe in the light,

I wait for the dark.

Thank God For Bars and Forward Women

Ah, love at first sight.

like cigarettes and foreign saliva,

bleeding streetlights and a speedometer I can’t read.

DUI avoidance tactic number 1: Cruise Control.

The question of red or green

is overshadowed by the rare chance to see the sunrise.

Safety is in the back seat,

the decision to call her is steering me now.

Should I take advice from “Swingers”

or my heart?

Wait six days

or five minutes after I drop her off?

Shit!

The devil is behind me,

black and white

with the demeanor of a circling shark.

Will he understand love takes alcohol?

Oh no, not again,

I’m this guy.

The drop of the hat, head over heels romantic

with more tragic shutdowns

than bliss dripping fairytale endings.

But I want the so cute you could projectile vomit ending.

So I held my breath and plunged.

But the sweet dried blood on my bottom lip,

the seemingly endless adrenal spasms,

and the Jetta bruise in the small of my back

tell me I sunk too deep.

I can tell I’m going to drown all over again.

I pour into bed like a knocked over drink,

spreading and soaking into the sheets.

Her grey eyes must be lodged in my chest,

because it still aches like the first time I saw them.

But I can’t exhale her,

she’s in every breath, keeping me awake.

The dizzying fan blades

will black me out soon.

Now I fear the morning.

It will be heavy handed when it beats on me with its coherence

and repeatedly stabs my brain with sharpened logic.

But for now there’s no pain,

I've been pleasantly violated

and given only a first name.

Codone

Back to the wall again.

Cigarette after cigarette,

pondering my intangible greatness.

Under the silver sheen of the moon,

where ghostly clouds drift by to my delight.

My limbs and appendages float in liquid bliss

And I realize this feeling is beauty personified.

My eyeballs roll into my head

as I shudder with orgasmic bliss,

where every breath brings uninhibited elation.

I beg the moment to stay

because this is how I always wanted to see things,

happening right in front of me in vibrant delirium.

Slipping further and further into myself,

withdrawing into the warm embrace of my flesh cave.

A lifeless body with a newborn mind.

Mouth gaped under this melting relaxation,

shallowly inhaling the sweet warm air.

Back to the wall where I can see everything.

The golden moon with its silver rays,

the delicate rustle of wind blown leaves

in the dead of bright midnight,

where there is no one but me,

and the delicate calm of the evening.