Hossana

the lord be my shepherd
that I shall not want
but take from me my mentor
and kill my callous front

my youth taught me to beg to you
my faith taught me to fear
my heart told me to follow you
and all this would be clear

my agony roots in your doing
my melting is your word
my apathy falls upon this
the candle dripping on the sword

I tried to find my soul in this
I searched the stars and trees
to find the prayers I gave to you
while you would prey on me

-Joshua Fink

Your menacing lecture
is nothing to a man with no fear
your crosses and legends
are a stones-throw from fairy tale
I can boil my own
and pour it on myself
for the damage I've done
And all that I'll do
you're reaching in for earthworms
you're casting for an eel
old coffee cups and cigarette butts
the fuel of fire for your meal
stand upon your parishioners
your heel to close their throat
snap a match against your bloodied spurs
ignite the bottom of your coat

you're all vertical stripes
in that suit
witha tall hat and ivory cane
to confuse the small men you beguile

I owe you nothing
but if you whisper your hopes
into my eyes while I sleep
I'll do my best to dream them

They found him in his dark apartment
Laid out on the floor
The dog was licking out the rocks
glass in his hand
Lapping up the melted ice
His old record player was still spinning
But only playing scratch
His eyes lay open
His right hand on his chest
with a smoke burned to the filter

I guess that's how it goes
I guess that's how it goes

She was an all night waitress
She often had to leave her son
unattended in the night
It was a gloomy and foggy early morning
When he found her in the tub
Her hair tousled
Blonde and pink with blood
Each leg hung over the sides
Red speckles in the whites of her eyes
A hand print bruise on her throat

I guess that's how it goes
I guess

You can call her "Janey"
She'd just graduated middle school
And made sure she caught
her crush's baseball game
The stands were full
The summer night
alive in the field's over head high beams and the distant firefly flickers
The echoing crack from the bat
always lead to spectator frenzy
They found her in the woods
Behind the bleachers
Eleven teeth missing
from the left side of her face
Her lips, swollen and busted
Her fingers, filthy from the mud
Turtles nipping at her bare toes
come morning

I guess that's how it goes

grace

Just woke up from the end of the world. It was interesting, and wasn't really the end... maybe just a new beginning. There were big black ashes in the sky from fires that fluttered around like paper confetti and the clouds were strange against the image. Although it was day, where there should have been a sun, the sky beyond the clouds was a night blanketed by stars. And those clouds up there were nameless colors, all with a silver lining gleaming bright behind them. There were things being shot at the world from above each with intention- like organic bombs, like Zeus throwing stones in a pond. They would only take out sections of buildings and things and they'd do it in patterns... but no one was panicked, or at least it didn't last long. I was at the store buying supplies; wine and lots of oranges. I was in a car with my brother and cousin driving to get into a hot air balloon or a zeppelin for evacuation or refuge, something to that affect, weather elevating above all the madness made a difference or not. Our conversation through it all grabbed my attention the most. Hard to explain correctly now... we spoke as if we were one person, with a collective understanding, with authority, humor, and weight, yet our words seemed to float and pop pretty like bubbles between us. Something happened and the world buckled and I woke up in the snow- the controlled chaos had stopped, the world was still- our car had crashed and we were covered in snow. San Francisco was covered in snow. California was. Maybe the world was. And there were two of everyone who survived. I stared back at my mirror and it told me to identify myself.... Then I fell out of sleep.

Jersey City Waterfront, 11/18/12, 2 AM

From this distance
you forget the noise,
the smell of piss
and desperation

You forget all the hustle,
the men begging
for change at the train station

Viewing Manhattan
from Jersey City

is Heaven on Earth;

Eden amongst the ashes

i've puked 3 times so far this year (Record Breaking)

This thing is a beast
with an insatiable appetite
swallows me whole
leaves no room to argue
I feel like the microwaved leftovers
Devoured
Less then 1/2 of something much better
the day before

This isn't about what you've said
More about the words that I cant quite digest yet
Something doesn't sit right
Feels funny in the stomach
Choking down nouns and vowels
You've got verb on you face
There's something in your teeth
Adjective debris
And the sentence that says exactly how I feel
Caught in the back of my throat
I could choke to death on it

You were a delicious thought
Just don't say anything out loud
It means nothing
once you form it with your mouth
Gone in the morning
Dirty dishes in the sink
Feel like exploding
A little taste still lingering

Dead Language (texts with Benjy)

Can we commit ourselves together when it finally comes to be all padded walls and white, speaking without words, a language of our own design that only we alone only partially know yet completely understand ...? Can we save and destroy the world in the same breath, within the beginning and end of one sentence. Can we?

Because I just shot 5 words point blank to death...and there's no turning back for me.

Full and Over

5 years
Have seen these eyes
a lifetime of chapters
to write

We forgot our anniversary
Moving in and out
so often
Your records
started skipping
and my switch was stuck
on self destruct

tea leaf, tahoe, peru and

the moon
never went to bed
Like we finally did

It was there before
and after the show
All night long
our cigarette smoke
curling up
around each star

the crystal bay
the jazz
the heat
the fan
the lights strung up
a slight awkwardness

The moon
lost a bet with the sun
and stood there
naked in the sky
All day long

And she
feeling like the moon's shapes
Kept the dream in motion...

It comes quick like a flashbulb

In a shiver
you default back to a year ago
when you were afraid of being touched
Your only comfort
a thought
to be locked in a trunk
finally safe
Hidden
from the world
Safe from yourself

The moon didn't do much for either
of you
The wind moved the curtain away from your window
The street light shone through
Spent the night holding on for dear life in each others arms
Letting everything die like the stars in the dawn

on mornings
when the sea is flat
the sky taking its
long slow inhale
before the day,
i am thirty two
years tired

i swim
the atlantic
each of its gentle strengths
holding me up

with each stroke
the muscles running from my
elbow down my side
to my waist
stretch  as guitar strings
against the fret board
of my ribs

barrier islands and grandparents
seem timeless
unshakable
but disapear
in one great turn
of the earth

the barge on the horizon
on the sea
has secret
serpentine hoses
coiling beneath it
in the dark
and cold
currents

its weighty machinery
pumping
the sandy earth
to the shore
shaping
the planet
to mad wants

from this distance
the whole process
seems silent
the huge ocean
offering no protest
or laughter

the tools of man
attempting to hault
the passage of time

when the world finally falls
apart

the things
becoming violent, then still

the colors changing and alien
in the sky

the gods,
senile, may confuse the end

for the beginning

fell asleep
in the cab of an ambulance
limbs jumbled against
its hard interior
the uncomfortable
pressure of still
things

to pop songs
of youth
with drawn out soprano
sylables
in the chorus

the next time i made love
it was out of desperation

a sad hollow panic

physicists have shown
gravity to be the only
force that acts across
long distances

when tight rope walkers learn
they are three feet above the earth
slowly developing
a controlled sway
of their feet

there are no crowds
or safety nets
at that distance

chris found
mountain roads winding
in wine country
and tall petrified
forests

found the pacific ocean
and its dangers
at the feet of
brown hard cliffs

found liz
technicolor
and dancing
at brunch
in  mythic
San Francisco

the old dog
confused about the slow
failure of its body
ignoring
the awkward gait
is still excited
over
the strange scents of the earth