Discounted Poetry

When my world was fresher, Crowded, It was cracking thickest ice And crawling free Onto an invigorating virgin earth exotic. Now, Midnight's a digital glow of changing numbers, Strangers on the television kissing To loud music by the bands once famous, A failed attempt to conjure  Magical renewals, Sips of carbonated water With a few potato chips, A shift from empty couch to empty bed Onto another flat robotic tomorrow. - 12/31/25

The crumbled day Dropped scattered over sidewalks and driveways, Sun-spattered grey and yellow parking lots. You took it all and left me this, The corpse of summer splayed In pools of blinding light, The season I despise Although it’s still the winter. I am not a London character. I'll start a fire With a flint or match Against a sliver of your eye. You have a way of breathing in my name, Exhaling me until I settle Burning on my tangled chest. I'm heavy on the earth Although your fingers and your words No longer softly press me  To the bed we lie in, Cigarette already crushed to death Between your heel so scarlet And the festered street. You're weighing deep within my lungs And strangling my troubled breath. Just drag my body to a puddle Of the burnt concrete And click in rhythm off Into the red horizon. - 12/30/25

I struggle Not to dwell upon my riddled life Bombarded by mistakes, The scorched mistakes of other people. I am bent aslant, A charred abandoned midnight sin, A spent delight of other people. I have cast my brightest leaves Across the blasted land. My broken bark and battered limbs -  The birds won't come To sing so sweetly Anymore. I scattered all With open hands Throughout the summer, Precious flowering fruit Of every kind and color, Dropped for free About the deepest craters. Now, The winter comes And closes tight To taunt my barren branches, My declining solitary hours. - 12/29/25

You sing through filthy broken harps, The tawdry guitars, Overdosing hedonistic fools. The holy ones who pray to You All play so mediocrely. They, the evil, give thanks, A line or two As they accept awards. I give my days and years. My melodies and words, Pedestrian and adequate. I sacrifice my life an empty vessel For You to fill it merely halfway up. He spends more time inside his lustful women Than a church. I bow in dust beneath You, LORD, And set myself on fire Right before Your altar, Screaming agony Off-key. O God, my God, You unjust cruel bastard. - 12/23/25

Chapping lips and flushing cheeks, We knew it'd never last forever, But we, breathless, kissed as if The gods awarded a stay, Loving under avalanches. The ending's more romantic before, From the back. The coolest people grow so old And dream of Florida. It's always warm. It doesn't snow. They just grow cranky, Vote Republican, And pretend they're cheating death. I swear to you I'll visit, Though we both know That's a lie. I'll never touch that fucking state again. - 12/22/25

She fell sick at sixty-six, A couple of seasons After finally discovering the one. He quit his job and left the country, But she changed her mind in months. The only child didn't make it. Afterwards, they couldn't either. There is always a story, Tragedy and losses. Everybody's just a face. The breathing always stops. But you, I won't forget. - 12/19/25

We lived four houses down the block. You nearly need a map today To find locations From those decades. Everything's a different coloring. You loved me shoving you On top the tire swing, Your feet stampeding clouds On days of summer weather. I loved the way the broken leaves Would nest about your sweater A season later. You hadn't a clue. A co-worker I can't even stand Was close as we both leaned above A boring green spreadsheet Unneatly shuffled over a table. She somehow found And wears The same lipstick you used when you were thirteen, Scent of tempting chemicals and richness Beyond, A warning cherry apple red That smelled nothing of fruit. I heard you divorced and raised two women On your own. I hope the trees always bow and cling to you, The clouds still flatten underneath your shoes. - 12/18/25

I scrape the ice And chisel the windshield clear Most chilly days. This morning, Colors swirl, The world's expressionistic, semisolid, Abstract in frozen smears of blue. This heater will kick in soon. I see outside as I see life and god, So little And enough. Affairs are potent drugs, The hazy soar And then the crash, Abyss, The burning brittle cold sets in. It's never easy letting go Of what you never had. - 12/17/25

It's a starry night But not one by Van Gough. The stars are crisp and calmly sharp Inside the black and coldest air. I have your hat You left behind my chair Several years now, The scent of your shampoo Is still entwined with you, Toasted sweetness, Almond butter, Maple syrup, Hypnotic dark delights Surprisingly still strong and vivid. I don't know how to settle down Not settling on less, But midnights come And midnights go And they narcotic drip slowly though And are gone again forever. I often think I could have lived my days with you. - 12/16/25

Mama, I converted From the bullet in the pistol To the broadest shoulder Catching every tear. We once were making love, But now we shipped those jobs to India. Computerized intelligence Shows us the methods, dear. I've got the theory, Though I'm alone Tonight, tomorrow. I miss oppressive architecture, Grandeur with a tint of terror. Even courts today are welcoming. My shoulder sits And waits. I never move, Forever motionless, alone, Collecting everybody's sorrow, Consoling from my emptiness. - 12/15/25

I read instructions, Put the pegs into their proper holes. I followed the dictated bold red lines Across the mapped terrain, And never strayed Because of trivial distractions. I was tops at making my bed And cleaning my plate. I said my ma'ams and sirs. I mastered every trick, Performed for every town. Nobody mentioned every rule would change, The manuals dissolve. I'm not an amateur or automaton. The discipline solidified My muscles and resolve. It hardened me for action. So dally, flirt, Entice and disappear for days on end. I'm never the sideshow. The big tent is pulling up the stakes And moving down the road. - 12/12/25

The rain Collects in bulges On the petal edges Till it bulbs Too big And drizzles over Leaf and stalk and stem. I always marvel Running my gaze About your origami mouth. 12/11/25

The furry frost Is running down The cars half-dead Inside the parking lot. The winter sun Is blatant, trite, Determined. We will hit The sixties Well before tonight, The earth Entire Melting Elegantly, A breath Held hostage Now unclenched, Finally set free. God must be a French woman. - 12/10/25

Up close I trace your makeup lines, The perfect blush you clumsily applied To perfect cheeks, Your sprightly poetic eyes the brown Of watered earth. Your gorgeous face is like The newborn sun That pierces and plays Upon the sparkling water. I can hardly look And hardly look away. I know Attraction's not a relic Underground, To never chase What should be pouncing Fierce. - 12/9/25

I explored exhibits Tracing history And present geological conditions. I realized My mind was roaming, Conjuring reactions, Thoughts,  Remarks from you All while the warmest wash Cascaded down my bones And something stirred Disturbing, comforting So deep inside my stomach. Friends are more important Than another lover. So I tell myself, But when you're close I nearly touch your skin Instinctively. I healed so greatly From my former romantic disaster. When will I Allow myself to fall again, Or has your gravity Already taken me? - 12/8/25

I guess I watched too many Kurasawa movies after midnight, Trusting you can always simply Wipe the blood from off the blade. Your smile wrapped around entire towns, You at the table with open ears  And gallons of freshest lemonade. At first, I found you fake But after months, I saw your honest heart Was far too large. I wondered when you took a breath. The county fair was underway The start of May. I stole a precious couple of your minutes To escort you through the maze of stands, Amusement contraptions, Curtains promising a woman Turning to a wolf  The other side, The kissing booths, So careful not to touch your overburdened shoulders. Autumn skies Are ending credits in disguise. The rides uprooted, Traveling to warmer southern states. The actors rose and walked Across the graveled studio parking lots To compact grey cars And wound to compact grey houses, Sleeping in until their time on set, Another show, another day. The samurai were dead and never moved again. - 12/5/25

I survived the beating hurricane, The storm that flung me to the shores From boiling seas. A volley from the fleet Encouraged me To cast away the cords, A Gulliver once lying flat on Lilliput Arisen, Dangerously loose With scandalous, enormous feet. You're free to loot the wreckage And to pass me by. You always read a lie, Unsure my dance is nonchalant Or bon vivant. I offer no correction. I am not a meat Beneath a heat lamp On a smorgasbord Awaiting your selection. I am wild in the forest, Speeding through the weeds and over fields. You're leagues behind. Only those who seek Will ever find. - 12/4/25

A squirt of strongest lime To brighten up the dish The flavor's off, Delicious zest sublime For stir fry faded flat. It sat too long. This dinner's isn't worth the effort. - 12/3/25

Drizzled day. The sun is still asleep. It's wrapped in sheets of clouds And lazing under grey and puffy covers. I am listening to softest patter, Cool sensations of dripping skyscape, Currents kind and hungry. Smoothest ripples make me close my eyes And see your hair At highest tide. I breathe you, Misty foggy oxygen Reminding me of measureless expanse of ocean, Subtle rounded shapes Approaching from the atomized atmosphere, The painful pleasure of anticipation. You will make your way To land And settle on my open shores. - 12/2/25

I awake Beneath a butter sun And in the young and yawning dawn, I think of you A midnight way. Your gangly arms Enact exactly what  You're going to say. I need to put my lips To yours And suck down all your words Before they leave your very tender tongue. If you would read The poems written As confessions of such messy sins Inside my hidden files, I know I'd glow A cherry tint. I'm searching for a hint You're bent my way And living in the taunt Meanwhile. - 12/1/25