I don’t feel like I exist
I feel like coffee
The liquid form
Made while you rush around
And stare into the mirror
at your own invisibility

Your towels smell like college
When you should smell like an open window
Your towels smell like a confessional
When you should smell like the video you took of yourself
and all of your wrinkled posters curl a little at the corners
because college

You can touch your mirror face
but it doesn’t feel like your skin
it doesn’t smell like your towel
it is a mirror
it would feel the same
reflecting nothing at all

I reflect like you do
I use telephones to make people worried
Like you do
I sit by open windows and watch clouds form
like you do
I take shelter like you do too


On a Venice Beach somewhere
i’m tapping a cracked Vic Firth
against the faded face of a jolly giant
i readhere his paper with my spit
every few hours or so
because i need my friends
and i love my band

i complemented your style years ago
which to you are just men’s words now
sandwiched between other men’s words
which have changed as you’ve aged
but remained positive
and complementary
your kids came from something similiar
that i had nothing to do with
years ago when i grew a beard

before i formed my band
in the alley behind the soup kitchen
you refused to give me a complement
maybe you’re right
maybe your complements
could start a family
one that supports the alley arts once a month
but maybe
maybe we could work together someday
and figure out why people on the beach
give such meaningful looks to strangers


there is no empty seat between us
this means something in a darkened theater
when there are plenty of open spaces
and famous faces clutch their tickets outside
waiting for the next show

I’m not sure
but out of the corner of my eye
I thought I saw you turn to me
but films play tricks on the mind
whether you watch them or not

on the street
where I took on a shy celebrity stride
made confident by the balmy air
and the strangeness of a new neighborhood
I recounted, to you
a moment when you had crossed a street
years ago
to greet me with a jacket on

but it was all about as real
as the pop up parking vendor
who vanished with our money
leaving us with a space
in a bank parking lot for the night


I wash my filthy feet in an old bedpan
they are filthy because my backyard is unkempt
and I walk through it like I’m better than nature
I walk through it like there isn’t life under my toes
I threw my shoes in the pool
my house is rented, the pool isn’t even mine
but then again, nothing is

I try to stare out of my bedroom window
I get embarassed when my neighbors see me
because they know what I’m doing
but I’m not watching tv
or owning light blue mid-size sedans
or locking my doors to preserve my portraits
I just want to catch a glimpse of their end of day movements
without them knowing

I wander around the hot coals of my municipality before dawn
and let my toes imagine their quarry
I pretend that I know what it was like
to graduate high school in 1985
while somewhere out there my mother is thinking of me
and somewhere in my backyard
I sit on the edge of my pool making perfect ripples
trying not to let her down


Every movie is the same
as when I leave my house
for an adult responsibility
and I end up in a hotel room mainlining heroin
Back to the Future is especially like that

Hey let’s stop some Libyan terrorists Marty
Oh fuck he’s shooting heroin and Doc is dead
Or, Hey let’s go to the Enchantment Under the Sea dance
Oops shooting heroin in a high school bathroom and your mom is dead
Or, Hey Marty hop in the Delorean and let’s go back to the future
Oh shit you’re shooting heroin nevermind


How cool can you look in a photograph with your dad
Answer: Kool
My dad is dead, his ashes are somewhere
He doesn’t speak, or write, or drink anymore
But your dad wears glasses that are big
and magnifying
and stylish 30 years ago
which is when I would have lived if I were a dad

gold chains are cool
I want you to remember this
I want you all to remember this
I want you to trace the history of a receding dad hairline
with your finger
like you think you trace the history of your autumnal sunsets
the important ones

sarcasm is cool
and dad did great things
like when he gave birth to your look before you had one
your eyes are wonderful and they have their own shadows
and sometimes looking great is better than doing great things
but almost never