I re-met a man who used to be famous, within my family, for being a bada$$.
He earned this title simply by having sleeves (tattoo),
and maybe 4 piercings.
He has now turned into a frum,
he carries around the Midrash
with highlighted arrow stickies,
and a son with curls on the side of his hair
called something like Haroah Tickvah.
He seemed happy,
with that deep barrier the eyes can sometimes make
when you've become dedicated
to anything,
or god.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
All these things you are missing. All these things the people I never really wanted to count on have stepped up and been here for. It's amazing when you realize who has truly been good to you, and why.
I remember spitting on your face out of love,
out of sexual desire,
and now
I just want to fucking spit on it, period.
This will be my first death,
along a long line of terrible,
and my father did not hesitate to continue on
without asking.
I stroked his silly one piece of hair,
I told him I loved him
and I could tell he could hear me and all of us.
They say people wait to say goodbye,
but I never really believed that till now.
I remember spitting on your face out of love,
out of sexual desire,
and now
I just want to fucking spit on it, period.
This will be my first death,
along a long line of terrible,
and my father did not hesitate to continue on
without asking.
I stroked his silly one piece of hair,
I told him I loved him
and I could tell he could hear me and all of us.
They say people wait to say goodbye,
but I never really believed that till now.
Monday, October 31, 2011
We lay in each other's beds,
we pick through each other's heads,
we don't remember where we were
or where we went
or who was there.
We sit around, watch people learn,
watch them try
I watch some burn
We paint, we hate,
fallatiate??
I feel like hair,
a million me's
a million you's,
I don't give a fuck
what drives you.
We watch ourselves piss,
we make up,
I make up records
are the sweetest sound
I forget other people are human too,
and later
they have me seeing them cross-eyed
as I once saw you.
We lay around in each other's beds,
the walls bounce off us
moving chalk portraits,
we walk
like sketches playing lost.
we pick through each other's heads,
we don't remember where we were
or where we went
or who was there.
We sit around, watch people learn,
watch them try
I watch some burn
We paint, we hate,
fallatiate??
I feel like hair,
a million me's
a million you's,
I don't give a fuck
what drives you.
We watch ourselves piss,
we make up,
I make up records
are the sweetest sound
I forget other people are human too,
and later
they have me seeing them cross-eyed
as I once saw you.
We lay around in each other's beds,
the walls bounce off us
moving chalk portraits,
we walk
like sketches playing lost.
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