You’ve spent the last seven years
Trying to be the part
Not the person

Why?

You love to like
The need to leave but
Cannot face the need to be

Free.

So hope becomes the frailest fortress
Around the slightest of these vain things
That, elitist brother
feeds your pleasure

Breathe.

For Rush

Draggin’ my ass from Kansas City
Looking for a quick score, a ride and some pity
No luck with the pity hunt, just a ride from this stuck up cunt
And of all places, she kicked me out here.

So I wander the alleys of this piss of a town
Except for one, lights off at midnight all around
Just need a car or truck or some kind dumb luck
Got to get away from Kansas City.

Late night summer knock
Occupant opens the door
Claw hammered forehead
Retarded on the floor.

Arc of blood spatter
Grey of brain matter
Swoop and then thud
Handle drips blood

Father asleep in the back
Didn’t hear the first hammer attack
Lay there dreaming of God knows what
Lobotomized that sleeping fuck

Arc of blood spatter
Grey of brain matter
Swoop and then thud
Handle drips blood

Arc of blood spatter
Grey of brain matter
Yah yah yah. It’s the Stanley cup of home improvement.

I don’t know how a cherry tree relates to me
Especially now that I don’t have one in my yard anymore.
The only one I ever planted was small and thin and desperate to grow.
I haven’t seen it since I sold out for a taste of something “better”.

Most of the trees I’ve planted since then were mature —
Strong, healthy specimens that cost a pretty penny.
They all started to die after the first winter.
I cut them down into two foot long pieces for the trash man.

I don’t know if the Cherry Tree I planted
Provides fruit to its admirers or shades their surroundings.
But I know it reminds me of my first child crawling in the grass
Towards me as I planted it in the lawn so many years ago.