LUNCH CANNOT SWALLOW

stories
in
the
bones
worth
medals
tell themselves
in the cracks & lumps
of bad heals

& my muscles call for fuel
across the limbic telegraph

joints heavy
like lead
like gravity

in the bubblegum stretch
of a masticated morning
lunch cannot swallow

OLD LEATHERS NEW FUR & OTHER AILMENTS

always 
blood bleeding
from some tear 
somewhere

red leaks 
out my 
meatbag 
canvas

~

& hair roots
have tumbled
from my crown

start new 
& lonely lives
where ever
their tumble
took them 

~

ridged nails
split & burr

joints crack & pop
like firewood coals

~

bike crash
thorn rips
show only
in high contrast photos

( vet patched me up
  yes - a vet )

~

& now
homeless
matter
beds down
inside
old scar
crevice
furrows

like a 
city-stained
overdue 
pressure-wash 
town hall

wearing the weather

from way-to-be-healthy.blogspot.com

THEN AND TODAY

 
  like a monolith of secrets
  i felt old at 19
rolling
joints
for
wannabe grungers
on
absent parents patio tables
  watching them
  get
  high
  with
  my
  fatherly eyes - laughing
                  as
                  someone
                  turns green
  from
  a rising blowback


( today tho
  i feel as new and unwise
  as a child
  in the future )

 

 from urbandictionary.com