You were an Endor celebration Leia

And I was Quentin Quire, broken

And you shouted your costume into my ear moments before my brain processed it

I was at a two person booth

And you sat down at it to talk with me

And your life was chaos but I was not listening

Juust nodding at the chaos the we all experience, and people, rightÉ

My phone, dead but re-enlivened like Lazarus

Plugged in, vibrates twice

And that is close enough to your buzz that I turn sharp

And maybe, small chance, very very small chance, infinticimal chance

Who knows?

I'm smoking and you're smoking

And I'm trying to grow hair

And you have dreads and you live in a space with a low ceiling

And I have a crush on Courtney but I wouldn't say that

We lie to the doctors and see if our health gets any better

And we're too nice or too youung to say anything to the accursed Judy

We are at a show

It doesn't matter which one, they bleed together like shades of orange

I lean against the wall, you gesture emphatically

We shout to be heard and strain to be listen and only succeed halfway

But even in misery I feel better having listened

At least I offered that support

We're aaall, in thiiiiis, to-ge-ther

I'm at the festival selling things

Maybe hanging aronud for a bit

We are at one of the sets, side by side

Someone asks if we're together, and we scoff

That's ridiculous!

Never, not in a million years

Associates forever

I'm happy to have someone to glom on to, momentarily

We have a relationship

I fuck it all up despite myself, not even knowing the how of it

I get angry and upset that I can't puzzle it together

This is simple math, I can make it work with the right combination

Of words and heart and not shutting up when I should not shut up

And a step back is a step back

Even if at first we don't think of it as that

Time will prove us wrong

Time is a dickweed

We smoke, hunched or reclined

Kid is in the house, watching a show

Talking shit, apprehensive

She's a good kid

Energetic, swinging from a crossbar

I don't know where it goes from here

But there's still snow on the gronud

There's a lot of time for other things

And pobody's nerfect and time's on our side

And I'm glad I trekked here

You left

I am still adjusting

I am going to be adjusting for a while, I think

And that's going to have to be okay

But it wasn't just you

This time there was something else I lost

And I guess I understand, or

I don't have to understand

Maybe in time I'll get some simulcrum of what I had

What gift was given to me that I never acknowledged as a gift until it was too late and that damage had been done and there was no going back or coming back or being back

I can't believe your mom unfollowed me on instagram

I'm sitting in my car in my driveway

Because I think that when I get out of my car and go into my house

There will be more day happening

And I am not mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually

(all four, I remembered all four!)

Prepared for more day to happen right now

The longer I sit in my car in my driveway

The more the chances increase

That my daughter comes to the window and notices me there

And texts and asks me why I am doing what I am doing

And saying "I am tired, I am trying to have a moment to not exist"

Is a difficult thing to say to anyone

least of all a legal dependant

Or that my landlord who lives below me

And is not home right now

Pulls into the driveway next to me

And wants to talk about something that is a thing

And I am no-thing-een

And any words to a human being right now will break the spell

What I would like to do most of all is nothing

But I'm sorta damned if I do, et ceterra

And I have to pee

Rats!

I don't know what crackers are made of

Flour, I guess?

Flour and salt?

"Seasonings."

I don't know what makes things good or bad

Flowers and salt

Flowers don't taste good

These flowers aren't making me thirsty

Sometimes bad happens

Sometimes a bunch

And sometimes there's good

And sometimes there's crackers

Or biscuits or foods that I don't know how to properly pronounce

Sometimes food can be food

Good can be good

Things can be things

Sometimes you begin to write a poem about crackers and it ends up mostly not being about crackers

Sometimes crackers are a metaphor

Sometimes you should look up what makes a strong metaphor versus a weak metaphor

Sometimes you shrug and say "accept my joy as it is, muddled and quiet and half-not-functional and I'm sure I can tie it back to my thesis statement given more time"

Crackers? For breakfast?

No that's not tying it back

But I also had something about not being a cracker artisan, and so it wasn't crucial that I know what makes up a cracker

Which tied it up more, but felt dumb

Anyway what's up with weird tiny hard bread amirite

I was getting what we needed, y'know,

for the next few days

when I full-on realized

it's not just for the next few days

it's every day, now

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

there isn't a break, any end point

and, huh, that scares the hell out of me

I'm not on a team, I don't have backup

and, who whoa

this isn't a punishment

this is life, dude

fffffoooo

this fucking week, huh?

but next week

and the week after that

et ceterraaaaaaa

they'll be a thing, too

things'll keep thinging

and I'll keep meing

even on the other days

every day, now

Life is a poorly written story

If you look it at through the lens of story structure

Is your whole life rising action up until the climax where you do something neat right before you die?

Do you climax early (heyoooooo) and then spend the rest of your life coasting towards your denoument?

Does your life have a single inciting incident? Something that kicks off the entire adventure? Just one thing that you can point to and say “that’s it, that’s where my story really began”?

That sounds dreadfully boring, to have one long-ass story that takes an entire lifetime to tell

And to only have a single story in you, even if it’s a really good one

So maybe it’s a bunch of short stories?

Here’s where this part started (and it’s muddled, because there aren’t really abrupt ends, and everything just sort of slides into each other), here’s what happened in this story, here’s how this story ends, here’s the resolution and what’s changed

Or maybe your life isn’t any stories, maybe your life’s just a life! And it’s yours! It’s yours, you fool! It’s the only thing that really will ever belong to you! So stop trying to shape your life to form a narrative, or you’ll just end up with a bunch of poorly written stories, even if your life is really good.

Oh look, I did a period, there, as if to make a point, even though, between you and me, it was really just an accidental period.

That one right there was on purpose, though

I'm real angry, Sassy

That's a funny enough place to start

I'm angry and jealous and lonely and sad

Because I don't get to go to sleep and skip the year

Or zone out and just let it happen around me

I'm real angry, Sassy

Because everyone's already engaged

I'm angry and jealous and lonely and sad

And I don't want to work hard for it

And I haven't seen the hard work that everyone else has put in

Just the end result of a status update with a ring icon

I'm real angry, Sassy

Because everyone is stupid but me

Which is what I say as I burn my own house down

And by house I mean two bedroom apartment

When what I would like has more bedrooms

A backyard

And a washer-dryer combo

I'm real angry Sassy

And now you're licking yourself

Ick, it's audible

Shoot sadness in the fucking face

Give anxiety a Michinoku Driver

Pull loneliness' shirt up over its head and

 punch it on the crown of its head

Push ennui down a flight of stairs

Hold all of your worries and troubles by the 

throat over the edge of a tall tall building and 

say a great one-liner before dropping them

Throw a Kienzan at not being able to sleep 

at night and spending hours on the couch during 

the day waiting to go to bed and not sleep

Scream at insecurity and secret shame as you 

crouch over it and choke its life out

Say something really mean to not 

being happy, that'll learn it

Coming home from the third show third month

A band I loved half a lifetime ago

Being surprised that I know all the words

Being surprised that I'm being surprised

Home again step on the cat

She's too dark to see

Apologize and sleep on the couch

Move to bed at six in the morning

Strip to underwear catch my reflection

Older, unflattering, ponchy and hairy

This is who I've been all along

Still sad about it

It's still cold in there so I wrap up in the extra blanket that I had

Would rather it be a person, not a person skinned and made blanket

Somebody besides me

I had a great time, now it's a bad time

I had a great time, now it's a bad time

I distracted myself with not feeling well

I don't think I'm good at this but what else can I do

You look beautiful in the moonlight.

You look beautiful in the daylight, too.

And dusk! And dawn, when it's colder than it will be all day.

When it's early and I wake up before you and you say not to look because you have morning face and a birds' nest for hair, too.

When you're angry with me, when you're sad and it's my fault, when stuff just will not work out.

When I'm boring or say the wrong thing or am uncommunicative.

When I'm surprised to see you, just a weird fluke.

And right after that, too.

Hey dryer, thanks for working so hard

And hey fusebox, thanks for being locked

You're both just doing your job

So I can't blame you for the fact that the dryer isn't working and that my clothes are all damp

It isn't your fault that I want to look nice tomorrow, that's on me

It isn't your fault that maybe I want to impress someone, or at least put my best foot forward

That I would like to appear to not be a mess

That I would appreciate greatly being able to sustain the illusion that yea, I am Kyle

I am an adult and capable of not making an ass out of myself

But, like, I do still blame you

And I am hopeful that one day I will live in a place where I can just change the dang fuse

Hey, what are you doing?

Want to talk about that book?

How 'bout that common interest? 

Are you cold? I'm cold.

These are the boring questions I would love to be 

able to ask you, and be able to talk with you about. 

Little dumb things that don't especially matter, 

but do in the larger scheme.

most of my favourite music is lyrically depressing

but you could dance to it

or at least smile to it

which is a shortcoming of prose writing

the saddest song in the world could be your fucking song

the average sad prose writing just makes you feel sorry for someone

so here's a break for a trumpet solo

♪♫

yeah yeah yeah!

I could keep writing about you, sure

Little tokens of affection

But the thing about tokens is that, in a literal sense, they are a thing that have no actual value other than that given to them by the place they're used.

A token isn't a quarter, a token of affection isn't concrete

So maybe I'll knock it off

But probably not

I woke up from that dream again

I woke up soaked in gore again

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed

I woke up still in my own head

I woke up inside a dream and then woke up again

I woke up already exhausted from the day that hadn't begun

I woke up remembering and taking pride in everything that I had accomplished in my sleep while simultaneously dreading everything that I wouldn't accomplish during my conscious hours

But also soaked in gore, remember that, soaked in gore.

This is a crucial detail that will become important in the future.

Steps to rebuild a face that you can't picture in your mind

1) Panic and realize that you can't remember

2) Try and get nowhere for a bit

3) Think about other faces of people, ones that you're able to remember

4) Give up and go with it for a bit, knowing it will come back

5) Give up on giving up

6) Start with the teeth

The rest of it comes really, really easily

Because yeah, you drew the smile

But that was a smile without teeth

And the teeth form the smile, the teeth give the smile life and a frame, what you need to remember

7) Hairline, eyes, eyelids, set of jaw and shape of nose and idealized colour of eyes

Pants and purse and phone case

These are not a face, but now you remember them all

8) Hi, face

roses are red

violets are violet

it's in the name

jesus christ people

roses are red

violets are blue

gender binary's fucked

let's get high and watch gravity falls

roses are red

violets are blue

spider-man's both

spider-man's poetry?

roses are flowers

violets are flowers

here are some other flowers

daisies, sunflowers, chrysanthemums

roses are red

so is my head

come back to bed

i've made some bread

roses are red

violets are blue

this is a line

this, here, is, too

I went to that show

where I figured I'd know everyone

and I was already owly

and I knew enough people that I could be Show Kyle

bop and tap one foot and nurse a beer

and then the band played a song

that sounded like Sound System

which is certainly not an insult

but I would rather just hear Sound System

and then He appeared

One Dude Skanking

He skanked like no one was watching

at least I was, because, my dude, that was some skanking

He skanked with abandon, He skanked like the world was ending

He skanked circles around the foot tappers and boppers and beer nursers

it was pretty great

His skanking could melt the heart of the most brutal dictator

His skanking could end world hunger and give snacks to the snackless

one skank to rule them all: His

One Dude Skanking

and then the song ended and the next song didn't have that guitar riff

but that's cool, because One Dude Skanking's gotta keep moving

and I think that He'll be back

when we need him most

when we need

One

Dude

Doing That Thing Where You Walk And Dance To Reggae Or Ska

what do you call it?

Leeeegs

I keep waiting for it to be gone

And it still isn't

So I try to ignore it

But my brain keeps pulling my eyes to it

Just there, on the other side of the door

When will this be gone? When will I not want it?

I check again

Of course it's still there

Maybe it's always going to be there

Long after any hope of it still being good

It's going to be there, taunting me

Fred, eat your hummus that's in the staff fridge

It's been like a month, come on

I've learned to fear the heights of feeling good

Because, boom, there's the crash

The crest and the and orange juice

I don't know how that happened

Get into work

My voice is cracking from not being used

Exercise it, socialize

Open up a little to strangers

Go for a walk, it's actually nice out

Even if it is an uneventful walk

Go home, feed the cat, feed the me

Draw for a commission, go for a drink

Crash

Was it the women nattering away in the booth next to me?

With their incessant, cackling, laughter

Was it that the guy with the fade/manbun combo?

He was confident and handsome and a creator

Was it the walk and seeing the same damned car?

Important reminder, that thing you fucked up

Was it Men In Black?

No

Maybe I'm just tired

Sure I'm tired

But I wrote this last week

And put it in the buffer

So maybe I feel better this week

And the sun's out

And I don't crash

The wind doesn't cut into me right now

I went for a walk and the wind was pushing and punching

Shoving me, trying to knock me over

It was screaming at me like it was angry with me

But it couldn't cut me

It's not a winter wind anymore
It's like the real anger, the real drive, went out of it
It's not what it could be, replaced with something
Almost just taunting
Kinda impotent

In the summer it will be sometimes hard to bike against

And it will make me tired

And when I walk it woll make my jacket or sweater or whatever incessantly blow in a contrary direction

And rip my headphones out of my ears

But it won't cut me

It won't cut me for months

So push and punch if it makes you feel better

You stupid, stupid wind

there is going to come a point when I never see you again

and maybe that point has already come!

I... I hope not

but I was thinking earlier today

when I caught the bus to catch the plane out of town

and saw a car that looked like yours but had the old lady driver

that you might up and leave and I wouldn't know until after the fact

until after it was too late to do anything

but it's been too late for a while

so if you leave

tell me

and tell me that Windsor is nice

or Victoria is nice

or that you still would talk

if 

Summer Nights!

I want it to be hot, muggy, the air thick and smelling like how Mississauga smells in my memory, like there are pools everywhere

I want to be outside and sticky and not worried about a coat, and to be on my third t-shirt of the day, walking

I want to walk until I need (NEED) to sit down on a curb for, just, like, five minutes, maybe seven, and to have the optiom to do that

4% battery holding out until I'm almost home so that I have to sing to myself for entertainment the last little bit

Don't fall asleep until 5:30 am, pantlegs wet with dew, please be dew

Wake up already warm, thirsty

I'm already sick of the sun, but I'll miss it in January

Just like I miss lots of things that I don't appreciate at the timeHEY WE ARE TALKING ABOUT SUMMER HERE

Gonna walk a flask on down to the corner store and make a hobo colada at the slurpee machine

I want to listen to crickets, walk next to a skunk, worry when I see teenagers that are probably worried when they see me

Watch the sunrise from the other side of a wall in bed and be thankful for summer fucking nights

burn yourself because

heck, yourself doesn't feel that

even if they do

burn yourself because

hey, don't hurt anyone else

only you forever

jesus, wow, bleak though

but you have said it before

the clock is ticking

you've got two years, tops

where ████ will call someone "mom"

instead of their name

two years is a lot

two years ago i was ████

and things were so ████

so I guess who knows

in two years, things might be great

█ ████ ███ ██████

I talked with the one that got away

With three dear friends that I never will reconnect with

With my best friend that got away and I never will reconnect with

I talked about comics and music and industry shit

With so many people about art and creating and everything

And it might be too much

I talked to my cat and she was indifferent

Except for when it came to kneading my stomach

And was it time to eat? Yes? Me eat meat now?

I talked to my daughter and she told me that my music was garbage

But she is twelve

She doesn't know, she thinks that garbage is gold and taste is forever

I am so happy that I could talk to all of them

And now I wait for the crash

Shhhhhhk-bom

What I said was you had been on my mind

What I didn't say was a day hadn't gone by when you weren't

Because I didn't want to seem weird

Even though we both know I am

What I said was I like having someone to talk to 

What I didn't say was I want to do that all the time

Because who says that? Who pulls something like that?

Who puts someone else in a position like that?

I didn't say that I still missed you, or that I was sorry for ruining everything and I was scared that it couldn't ever be fixed, or even that I looked for you when I was out walking, as if seeing you pass by would change anything besides giving me butterflies

What I said was take care

And I meant that

As much as I could

I want a muse

Because my muse right now is that I am without mine

And that makes for a very sorry muse

and that’s a huge bummer

was it kinda nice to see me smile?

throw my better self overboard

shoot at him when he comes up for air

oh let me tell you about my operation

let's go on a crime spree together

let me tell you what a fool I've been

the last of the assholes

you're like an ikea hot dog, i can't resist you

should I'd have stayed at home indoors?

i think i can, i think i can, i think i can, i think i can

things will get better once we leave the winter far behind

I finally got to go to a show

This week has been absurd

I don't know the band, I'm not a metal fan

But it's loud enough that I don't have to talk much

So that's pretty great

This week, you guys

I need the next week to sleep

Get into my cocoon

Maybe grow wings, shed skins, etc.

I can't stay asleep without feeling guilty

And having dreams that make me feel dumb

And I can't stay in bed without rolling myself into a hug machine-type position

And I keep meaning to look up if that's a thing or a coping mechanism or why I keep doing it

Welcome to no haikus ever, which I only ever write in when I've had a few

Life is acceptably good

Because let's not be greedy

Let's not be greedy and a jerk

Pick one

Pick being a jerk, if you're already very skilled at being a jerk

Fifteen dollar cover?

I could have had pizza

I AM a jerk!

A parking lot on Redwood where there is now a large modern church, too drunk, breath hot and terrible

I don't remember, but I remember you called me a dreamboat at the show

The front steps of FWCI, because you said you wanted to

Kristin's couch, because I wanted to

And again I don't remember, but I remember cucumber and balsamic vinegar

Red paint peeling off of the walls of your room like latex and singing that Sublime song too much

Everything but kissing you while not watching Pan's Labyrinth, and that strawberry top, and never ever fighting

I remember you sharing the book you were writing on a google doc and an insistence on gum to kill the smell of cigarettes

Under the streetlight by the record shop, and seeing you all the time despite never seeing you ever before we met

And too fast after the haunted house, because I thought that I had to, because that's how these things work

Though let's be fair, look at all this, I'm still working on figuring out how things work

For sale: Robin costume, never worn.

it's not you, it's me

it's a little you, but it's mostly me

look, it's us, it's this whole thing of you and me at the same time

at some point we're going to let you know that it's pretty much you

but we're trying to be nice about it for now

because we know how fragile you are

and that you are afraid that you're going to be alone

and that you hate it because you're afraid

so you get cynical and pissy

like, all the time

but it's me

really, bud

all the funny white guys wear cardigans

and roll their sleeves up

and have that high on the sides haircut

and beards

and oh no i do too

i thought i was a snowflake

people why didn't you tell me

why didn't you tell me that i'm not a snowflake

and that i'm just another funny white guy

shit people i thought you had my back

shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

fuck

fuck people

what do i do

i am freaking out here

Is it weird that she smelled like cherry pop-tarts?

Is it weird that that's the thing that stuck with me?

Is it weird that I would rather have that scent overwhelm just the one sense,

Scents scense, 'til I'm scentsless

Than just eat a goddamned pop-tart?

Smell is to wanting as taste is to having

I suppose it is.

Weird, that is.

Well, rats.

Ode to the Refractory Period

Get up, I say, it's time to get to work

But you are both exhausted and a jerk

You lie there, as if you laboured so hard

And frankly, you've been given your reward

I doth protest, come on, we're needed here

There's other things I can do, that is clear

I've other tools at my disposal, true

But I could always use some help from you

It's been fifteen minutes at this point, now

"You lazy dick," I curse; you say "and how"

You're making me look bad, I hope you know

And so I must explain, with words I show:

"My dear, it's science, elementary

You see, this period's refractory."

Tickets go on sale on Friday

And I am going as far away as I can

To a place where no one knows me

And so I can shout in the middle of the street

In the middle of the night

In the middle of the day, even

Fuck it, let's day shout

I'll say to myself

I will shout to myself

And someone will likely shout back 

So I will put my headphones in and walk away briskly

I will buy shoes

Because I'm always wearing right through them

And it's okay until there's a wet day

And then I don't walk, I just goosh

Just straight gooshin', here

What kind of shoes does a thirty year old man buy?

Is there something fancier than velcro?

I will take three, please

I am going to know all of the words to all of the songs

And I might need to run into the bathroom at some point

Because I will be hyperventilating or having a panic attack

What do you do when your short-sighted goals are accomplished

And you realize that in the morning you are going to have to face reality

A more-or-less unchanged person than you were when you set that goal?

And I will come back hoarse and tired

Maybe even a little hung over

But likely just tired

And sit on the edge of my bed

Let's say you really wanted ice cream

Like, ice cream was the only thing you wanted

Chocolate ice cream, let's be serious here

No one ever say that all they want is vanilla

You're not allowed to have chocolate ice cream

You could try to get chocolate ice cream

I mean, there's that corner store

It isn't that far from where you are

But that corner store has a really high robbery rate

Some guy got killed there a little while back

So if you try to get chocolate ice cream from that store

There's a high chance that you'll be maimed or killed

At the very least, there might not even be any there

And then you'll have nothing anyway

But, man oh man, do you want that chocolate ice cream

So you wait, hoping that maybe someone will bring you some

I imagine you're aware of how likely that is

But what other recourse do you have

I guess what I'm saying is that I miss my ex-girlfriend

But chocolate ice cream has its own life that it needs to live

the last box of my ex-girlfriend's stuff

the only box

some tights and socks and a toothbrush

a towel that she used to refluff all of her stuff

before moving those clothes to her new place

and it really shouldn't bother me

because it's not like this was ever her place

and now i've got an extra drawer's worth of space

and it only bothers me enough that i have to think about it

and it was never really seven years

and if i focus on this then i'll get sad

which is dumb

but here we are, so i guess i'll just learn

how to do a backflip instead of acknowledging my feelings

Tweets from the bus

"Let's get this terrible party started"

Plays just as the last bus pulls up

That's funny

Eight guys, two girls

One trans?  Drag queen?  Does it especially matter?

Oh, I suppose not

There goes one of the girls, off the bus

Bar was nice

Caddyshack was on

Sknny brian doyle murray is weird to see

The other girl got off the bus at the graveyard

Maybe she works at lu radio

I mean, lu radio is right there

No, she is going into the graveyard

Her head keeps swivelling so that her gaze meets mine

Which is strange, because there are several buildings separating our hypothetical gazes

But I can still feel it, and feelings never lie

Also, heads shouldn't swivel quite that far

Oh, she says to come and bring blood

Sorry, typo: beer

She says that she said beer, not blood

I heard blood, but whatever

Weird that I heard it in my fillings

Going to the graveyard to graveyard fuck, I guess

Will send the deets later