me collection

You will take this ship and Kat Morris’ poster from my cold dead hands.

Inspired by Kat Morris’ poster THE SHOW and featuring a shitty scan.

that night i crashed the car i imagined i was writing a poem in the sky with shooting stars

we were going to go to that italian place you like so much, but i botched everything with a fight – of course it was about something stupid

that night i drove away alone, left the dog in your custody, put in one of my favorite cd’s, turned up the volume – all the way

but i still heard everything you said, miles away and music in my bleeding ears i still heard every single word

a raccoon or something like that was idling in the middle of the wet road and i barely missed the ****er and the front bumper left a hickie on a nearby oak

the sky was puking stars and i thought i was some wise astral poet writing apologies to you but of course you never got to read any of those lines

one last thing

you put the band aid on my finger but it belonged on my heart / you couldn’t see / your glasses were smudged with tears and that’s okay mine were too / we knew the world was coming to an end /

we read the horoscopes alright / but there was no point in digging bunkers or emptying out the grocery store / we were each of us ready in our own little way / i had the tissues and you had your albums /

i was ready for a weep-a-thon and you, you were itching to turn on your new record player / see, that’s how it ends / not in flames, not in floods or earthquakes / but in tears

// the ending of this poem is inspired by a line from a jack kerouac novel called “the dharma bums” – “everything ends in tears anyway” //

mess walking

i’m walking the streets with empty pockets and an emptier heart / there’s no song in my ears or story in my shoes, just puke in my nose and nose blood on my sneakers / i still remember you /

not the you that broke the heart i’m carrying / still / but the you that never even saw it / the one that passed me by and that’s okay i wasn’t mad / i’m just a mess walking and i like to reminisce


“careful prayers”

“the anthology of doomed vices, pt. 2″

“something heaven”

“your name escapes me”

overture to something lucid/an adventure in babysitting (old nightmarish ghosts)

no cigarette smoke here / just the quiet constant hum / of your eyes / your eyes / your kisses still burn on my neck / on my chest / on my stomach / i left your house but you haven’t left my mind / i’ll stop praying to little pills if you promise you’ll stop picking fights with sharp corners / one day when we’re both old we’ll send each other christmas cards / i’ll send the serious kind and you’ll send the funny stupid ones / it’ll be okay / it’ll be alright


okay, so this might have been obvious already but i’ll reiterate – i love music. it inspires me, haunts me in my sleep, it gives me new ideas and it makes me feel less alone sometimes. a lot of songs have pushed me to write poetry, but i’ll just list a few here – this list will help set the mood for my New Collection and it’ll help you guys get where i’m coming from – so here we go:

“mountain at my gates” by foals

“the end” by the doors

“robbers” by the 1975

“jersey” by mayday parade

“electric indigo” by the paper kites

“coney island baby” by lou reed

“love is” by dude york

“oh! sweet nuthin’“ by the velvet underground

“5 flucloxacillin” by los campesinos!

“this year” by the mountain goats

“you get what you give” by the new radicals

“when god goes home” by fury in the slaughterhouse


apocalypse soon
—  in retrospect, i think i imagined the tears in your eyes and on your glasses / i left your house in my dad’s beat-up van / i promised myself i wouldn’t go picking fights with my favorite corner / i promised myself i wouldn’t follow in your footsteps / but my heart needed a distraction, what was i supposed to do / i won’t ask you questions / no more reruns / no more sunday television at your house / no more summer / no more time