the road to death

i tell my mother she is
on her hardest journey

the road to death

there is no such thing
as going gracefully

you’ll watch the body
erode like some coast

and then there are all
the fucking pills

this one for the heart

this one for the liver

and on and on

and what can i do

i listen to her cry
herself to sleep and
wish for death

and i’m not exactly
this glowing positive
light that brings her a
smile each morning

i’ll give her a little
whiskey and remind
her she is not dying
anytime soon

anything to calm
her nerves

as well as mine

pretending to be cool

here comes the summer heat

the endless bitching about
the air so thick it feels like
a fucking sweater

you think about much
simpler times

when all the pretty girls
would look so beautiful
with their tans and you
didn’t have to wear a
t-shirt in the swimming


the days of southern
comfort and boone’s

playing whitesnake
songs at a state park

pretending to be cool

and eventually

the asshole would come
with vodka or jack daniels
and a little weed

the joy of growing up too fast
and tempting all kinds of fate

while dancing the night away
with some beautiful stranger

that will never remember
your name

watching the world turn to blood


endless days and nights
of heat, humidity and
pop-up thunderstorms

a few more hours and
i’ll be a tom waits fever
dream come to life

and then the pain sets in

first, these old hands

then the knees will lock up

and the back will say fuck
this shit and give the old
irish goodbye

none of these fancy drugs
for arthritis really work any
better than jack daniels does

they told me i had liver
disease years ago

i started drinking more

started playing with loaded
weapons while watching the
world turn to blood

i had a dream a japanese woman
was serving her dead relatives in
a trendy supermarket the night the
former japanese prime minister
was assassinated

i’ll never eat sushi again

the river is starting to rise again

these old bones could use a swim