• How can you drop the ball when you can't remember picking it up?

    i dont want to hold the ball

    i want to hold your watermelon sized head

    heavy, like a sack filled with so many potatoes

    the ashes of our love sifted threw my fingers

    what will i fill my hands with now?

    i picked up allot of things

    nothing that didn't result in anger, misery or defeat

    its cold tonight

    the moon is full, lighting the abandoned cemetery with its lusty grin

    someone put roses on your grave

    they don't know you at all

    roses are fragile

    they bruise so easily

    you were always strong and flexible

    like the tulip

    your soft stem did not sever my fingers

    a rose would not hesitate

    you would not recognize the man standing above you

    the boy you loved is as as dead as you are

    one tulip is blue

    one tulip is green

    some gin for you

    some gin for me

    i reach down to let the grass brush the bottom of my hand

    soft like your pale skin

    the grass here is kept well

    it gets watered all the time

    not like the gass at home

    scratchy and dry like the stubble on my face

    one of these days ill have nothing to lose and i will shave it all

    my hair

    my face

    all

    its getting late

    better get back to our s**t hole we once called home

    it's not how you remember it

    without you i have no reason to try

    just lollygagging along like the T.V tells me

    getting my cheap kicks

    waiting for some revelation like the one i received those manny years ago

    i must be on my way

    send frank Sinatra and Mickey Mouse my regards