I’ve got a one-way ticket to Crazy Town Where they can never keep a good woman down. One might suspect fatherless behavior. Mine asked for a favor While he was out buying booze And came back less than enthused To tell me his body is breaking down particle by particle.

Death, with a full moon under his hood, strokes his sickle As it drools for a tendon to sever. I watch the blood trickle From my wrist, Wishing me Merry Christmas, Happy New Year And the best of luck in all my future endeavors.

We’re stuck in the running loop Of living with a shriveled spirit inside. My brain is soup And rage is alive.

The further I distance myself from tragedy, Diving into the deep end of the rolling green hills With waves like the sea And scenery that summon chills To run marathons up and down my spine.

This race, no one will win. You cross one finishing line just to find the other is out of reach. Once rigor set in And I sat for my afternoon tea As the smooth porcelain of my skin Out-purified the white of snow.

I’m not ready to go Into the light. If Life has taught me anything, It is that Death works according to his own time.

My existence is an act of war. I was not bred by submissive women— I talk back And don’t always know when to admit I’m wrong.

Dishes will rise to the ceiling, Becoming a cesspool for plagues And maggots.

I’ll step over the piles of dog dung in the den And leave them for you to squelch your toes in its cold, mushy heap of smelly waste When you’re half-asleep, Making your morning commute to your dead-end 9 to 5 And running on caffeine fumes.

I won’t make you dinner after a long day Of slaving away for corporate America. You can feed yourself.

I want to put my feet up, Watch my daily dose of Days of Our Lives And forget about the mind-numbing chatter of complaints you have for me when I walk through the door.

Oh, you say I don’t care enough about your problems? You drink like a fish And smoke like a chimney.

You always make everything out to be a joke And wonder why I laugh at us.

Hand in hand, We look like a funhouse mirror.

You’re tall and skinny. I’m short and fat.

They should put us at the center of their circus act And throw their peanuts for entertainment.

My mother strategized— Weaponized incompetence.

Burn dinner. Let the children deface the walls with their propaganda.

We are raising an army of self-sufficiency. Once you leave the safety of the womb, It’s a war zone.

My body laid in the field Where the goldenrod grows. For a hundred years of winter And a millisecond of spring To be dried out in the absence of the sun.

And now No one wants me in their garden.

Grief is a heavy load to carry. I watch the cycle spin forever As it cleans the year’s losses from my slate.

Dad has been sick And Mom almost lost her job. Like a flash of lightning, all of our money is gone. But, hey, at least the lights are on.

I sense a plague in the air—

Casualties of catastrophe, An astronomical number of bodies piling up.

I fold them And dry them And hang them in my closet to forget about them when the summer days make me want to peel off my skin And jump in with the cold rinse.

Oh, but December brings its own poison. Sulfurous snow Painted by Van Gogh’s groupies Yellow blood for leeching happiness.

One thing after another, Falling like dominos. Now I’m at the center of a huge mess With no more room on the line for your dirty laundry.

Yours isn’t ticking right. You say your chest is hollow and tin-like But when I walk into the room, You turn into a cartoon With a heartbeat in your eyes.

I loved you until I lost you And then the sight of you became unbearable. Loneliness plagued me with midnight fevers, Shivering something terrible.

I went to bed And woke up on the floor With an ache in my head.

Your ghost haunts the memory foam. You won’t let me change the dirty sheets. I’m sick of waiting for you And losing sleep.

I pulverized my tongue By licking the gunpowder off your lips. You can blame it on my being young And you being dumb.

Or was it that your meaningless words Left the lines blurred. As if we were bound together by the scars on our hearts. Isn’t that the saddest story you have ever heard?

You come faster than you leave. Your cocoon of lies keeps you warm at night While I look at my empty bed— Icicles or daggers stabbing me in the back— It feels like your lips tracing the spine You walked all over. Butterfly kisses like a bullet through my heart—

I flew into your arms Because you promised me warmth.

And it felt like I was on top of the world, Looking down on the unloved like I never knew what it was like to wake up alone.

Now your love turns cancerous, Rotting my body from the inside out.

Eve says I was made for you to be a baby factory. Once comes Abel, Second came Cain.

Adam says Were we not commanded to be fruitful and multiply?

Eve says I don’t know, ask your first wife.

Adam says Not this again.

Eve says She had the privilege of individuality. Lilith was dust And I am just a walking rib.

Adam says You were made for me, and I you.

Eve says I was a consolation prize.

Adam says But it was I who won this lottery.

Eve says Yahweh gave us paradise, and you can’t go find someone else to bother?

Adam says You are the only one I want to bother.

Eve says Well, let’s make this a little more interesting.

The serpent says Come with me, I will show you that the fruit of the tree Has bitter truths—oh, but they taste so sweet going down.

I fell asleep in October And woke up to barren trees— I didn’t stay awake long enough for the leaves to change colors.

I was a ghost haunting the ruins of my beautiful mind, My last creative spark shorted a circuit But I have an obituary to write.

Time flew by and left me in the dust To sort through rubble until my fingers bleed.

Feminity has always felt like a costume, Consumed by the whims of the moon—

He stole my will to live By taking more than he could give.

Meet me at the weeping willow tree At the turn of the century And we’ll enter into the future wearing white.

Watch me prick my finger on a thorn And bleed red roses. I will bloom when the gloom of singledom lifts its fog from my wilting brainstem.

You are a breath of fresh air In a world of mechanical steam.

We locked eyes for a moment, And that moment turned into an eternity. My past lives flashed before me And you were in each highlight.

I felt a long-smothered flame erupting in my aorta—

Sparks fly between us— I flew back to you. You will find me in every life.

The look you’re giving me— Is that love Or loss?

Fire & rain— Next stop, Silver Springs.

We both said things we didn’t mean. I slammed the door on you back in the 19th Century.

But I never changed the locks for your key. You won’t forget me.