Die Cast Metal

There’s a fiery Corvette wizzin’ by
Passing up the traffic jam
On the Hook Rug Turnpike
Three squad cars give wailing chase
Losing him at the Linoleum Tile exit
He pulls up alongside a rusty old Chevelle
It was always my favorite
They were always wanted for something
And they usually got away
But this afternoon was a suicide run
They fly up the Hallway Interstate
And the Chevelle tail ends the Fire Bird
Sends him spinning into the Nova
And they wreck on the roadside
The black and whites are coming up quick
When they take the dangerous road
Up the side of Love Seat Mountain
You gotta have the right horse power for this trip
The incline is insane
Some how the cops are in tow
They hit the top and know it’s over
They idle side by side
Corvette’s thinking about his only son
How long it’s been since they’ve seen each other
How long it’ll be now
He revs up and gives Chevelle a wink
Blasts over the edge into Blue Carpet Canyon
Takes fifteen minutes to slam to the ground
Spinning and rolling about ninety two times
Before the end
Chevelle takes a long gulp of bourbon
The squad cars parked behind him
Begging him not to
‘you have so much to li…’
Chevelle pulls a picture from his glove box
His ol’ lady in a sun dress
Drops it in his lap and hammers the gas
He hit’s the edge and flies high
The front end dips in the air
He’s wishing he’d done it all different
He’s praying to saints for salvation
And just when he’s ready for the impact
Dad says, “Dinner time.”
And he lands softly in my corduroy pocket
Tomorrow’s a new day
Count your blessings, Chevelle


Joshua Fink

she was wide-eyed and wild haired
danced on paint splattered floors
loved dusty old books
sang to untuned guitars until the neightbors complained
she was poetic
drank red wine and whiskey from coffee mugs
smoked camel no 9s
played an old shitty flute
she laughed
and she didnt give a fuck

she wonders,
swollen-eyed and straight-haired,
passionately
when she'll return

Flashes of street lights
Crash
Shattered glass
Beats heart beats heart beats
Blood flows
Underneath skin
Unseen

Black and blues
Punctured wounds
Rashes and scabs

I want to shed it all off
I want new skin

Pink and delicate
Soft and pure

Like an infant

First Picture (of a man that lives on)

A man of purest soul died
Left his body weeks before we found it
Alone in his apartment

I live with four people
But don't really
I live and they live
We don't live together

Chad and I lived together
in that small-ish orange North Beach apartment,
around the corner from the Hungry I
and across from the Beat Museum
The window to our living room faced Romolo alley and was broken
We propped it open with a wooden arrow that read "chill igloo 200ft" painted in purple
We'd sit and prop the window and smoke butts out it, looking up and down the alley
Hollering at passer-bys
smiling and laughing
We'd order Chinese, the delivery boy would pass it through that window
I've climbed through it countless times when I'd forget my keys

I moved out
The neighborhood got to me
the noise in the streets
The cat calls
The garbage truck at 4am
The street light always shining in...

I didn't want to leave him there
It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made
Consuming all my thought
To leave or not
To leave my friend and our home
We made that rundown hole shine!
We lived together.
It was ours...

...and I thought, for years to come I'd be able to visit.
drop in whenever
knock on the window
hear papa bear snoring through the thin walls...
I still have keys.

There's caution tape there now,
and my friend is gone.
And there are things of mine still in that apartment
and my friend is gone
and they won't let me in
and my friend is gone
and I can't stop crying
and my friend is gone
and the windows still broken
and my friend is gone
and I miss him

We hid from the rain.
We propped open the window.
We lived together.

Something was breaking 
Changing
I move in and out
to avoid time
That album has a color
I can see it if I listen
The light in the room 
Unfurnished
boxes still
with things in them
Just the bed, you and I
in that light
and something was broken.

All that stuff
It goes out there
Into the eveything anyway
All those words kept between us
Slip through cracks
are overheard
And kissed goodnight
with loose lips. 

Sky turns pink
early evening
As the raw wind blows the curtains in my room.
old photographs of spring time
Fall off the shelf
And I grab hold
As birds from distant skies
Fly
Toward my window.

Untitled

The nights have been clear

and I’m sitting on my back porch

burning another cigarette

watching stars give off

just enough heat through the smoke.

And some great creator

is busying itself

with one chore or another

not caring much about

my fear of death,

my troubles with women,

or how much I have saved

for when my son goes to College.

And I’m not thinking much about

that creatures chores,

or it’s creations; or it’s dreams.

Because the stars are out, right now.

I got my woman right here,

and all the beauty is free.

Fuck You, Dylan Thomas.

And death shall have no dominion.

A poem stuck in my head for a month.

A fear that’s been wrapping itself

warmly around my bones.

The realization of my own mortality

making the veins in my neck

thump ... thump ... thump

pumping blood into my brain

like a fire-hose,

making me think about it,

making me visualize it,

keeping me up at night.

Death shall have no dominion

when I close my eyes

and I see yours,

singing me to sleep,

lulling me into darkness

where I find bliss, where

Death shall have no dominion.

Diner Haiku #10

milk, cream, sugar, half

n half, whatever takes that

coffee taste away

Diner Haiku #9

i'm so glad we have

texting so i no longer

have to talk to you

Diner Haiku #8

i'll have scrambled eggs,

a side of burnt toast, and all

those crying mothers

70% Water, 30% Land

You be the rolling waves

caressing my shores

I'll be the landmass you're just

scratching the surface of

You be the rushing water tides

always changing

I'll be the shifting sandy earth

always being changed.

strangers swinging from the rafters pouring vinegar from holy pores
a balcony fire that spread to the chamber pots through valleys of cream and sulfur.
the empress violates greasy spoon and fork wisdom. storm clouds stalk the indigent and glass slippers seamlessly line the walk ways of paths unknown. all in the good of the fountainhead says i and we are dancing light years beyond the putrid purple sky.

The first word is the hardest

Be a first word poet.

Compress the whole poem

into a tight little ball

along with your sketches

from memory,

a microphone chord,

a ukulele,

the Cats Eye Nebula,

and the clang of a free game 

of pinball.

Also your last letter home,

the Heart Sutra,

an awkward hand job,

Kansas at sun up,

buying a girl a shot of

Southern Comfort,

rusted batteries eating

through an old camera,

and the smell of Atlantic City,

squeeze all those things into

the first word of your poem

because it is infinite

and everything else is emptyness

A thought sitting on a raised eyebrow

It happens without you noticing, all the meanwhile it's all youre
thinking about; everything is changing. No, you've moved and thought
too slowly already.... things have already changed.
It happened while you were sleeping. It happened when you were out in
the road spinning around in circles like a topsy turvy carnival swing
It happened while you were falling in love, you didn't notice it.
It happened when you got angry and shouted at the clouds
And they just poured out to you
But you didn't notice
Things are changing
No, you've moved and thought too slowly already.... things have already changed.

the ancient egyptians believed that if the names of the dead were still spoken in the land of the living that they would continue to live on in the next life as well. with that in mind,

chris
austin
dave
rhapsody

i miss you all, and hope the next life treats you better than this one did.

Skeletal Closet Blues

I've got some men hanging from my branches, swaying side to side as I walk
Skeletal closet blues
I've got hounds gnawing and gnashing at my back, smaller ones lapping
up the blood
Skeletal closet blues
I'm running away
The blues will stay
And they'll follow
Ain't that a paradoxical
Half-maniacal
Walking death sentence
The skeletal closet blues

Liquor is Love as Water

There’s a ghost & he lies in my bed

He has a beautiful face

but lacks a beautiful name

He kissed me on the mouth

& told me that I myself was beautiful

By morning, his soul was gone

Fleeted with an apology

“Moving on to the next life, mama.”

Throw some change in my direction

‘Cause this scenery needs a fresh take

Everything adds up to dollars and sense

Each breath, mile, sip & smoke

Drags me back for the same price to the same place

I’d like to grow new skin

& exchange my used organs for new ones

like products sold on late-night television

with lifetime replacement warranties

But here you go darlin',

You can have my old ticker,

Free of charge

No shipping or handling

No cash on delivery

You can use it as a pair of shoes

Lace them tightly to your feet

So I can feel where you’ve been

You’ve been vomiting romantic words

Naked in your kitchen

Coming up as bubbles

& I won’t say much

Because my nerves are shot

& I must remain delicate

But you’re the type of bad habit

Mothers warn their daughters about

The kind of guy that'll make

a perfectly good woman go mad.

Do you love every dish

that’s put in front of you

with a side of booze

or am I the only one?