bedridden

i want
i want to be normal again i want to go home and by home i mean the northwest i mean the wilderness i want to be
outside
and in the sun, i want the sun back
they made me watch more vietnam war videos and them boys said everyone was scared
they said they just wanted to go home and get drunk and go on a date
that's what i want to do too
i wish they had been okey them boys i wish all fifty eight thousand coulda made it home
i want
to learn how to appreciate but it's been years and i know now, its gonna be hard
i know about the rosenbergs about gus garcia about emmet till and all the soldiers all the soldiers
i know about your son and i know about your friends that died
and it's still tough
but i know, stuck inside for two weeks lying in bed i know
one day it's gonna be the birds that save us
it's gonna be everything we've thought about and then the crickets and the ol sun goin down and we'll be alright for a couple minutes

1988

mercy upon lonely teenagers
kids whose thoughts sound like post-rock or shoegaze
kids who silently mouth words to songs on the bus
mercy upon lunch ladies
what are there homes decorated like,
and who loves them?
accidentally stepping on dead birds in the wet grass
overcast june
mercy upon the boys who graduated from high school
and still can't spell

pt 2

how many times will you end up dodging death?

will you go out with a bang, sputter and hiss like hot fat,

oh will you,

will you light up the faces of bystanders?

the self destruction of the able-bodied

now,
I remember why I drank in the first place:
when i'm not drunk i have one primary emotion
that is accompanied with sad smiles

without a human,
it might look like imperfections
barely visible on painted walls
it might feel like stark sunlight
hitting the houses' faces at five

it might be silence

i think maybe
if it were possible
i should take the time
to sit and stare at the ceilings
for days
until i figured something out
figured anything out