Calvero's Blog, page 156
June 22, 2016
June 21, 2016
iamhomeless:
Pair after pair
of mad, whirling
chainsaw eyes...
Pair after pair
of mad, whirling
chainsaw eyes
cut through these beautiful,
frozen people
filled with forgotten about
soft, creamy, nougaty
middles.
It’s a gruesome thing
to watch,
but god damn -
the gnawing,
Christian silence
it makes
is even worse.
June 20, 2016
iamhomeless:
I can hardly look into human eyes
for three...
I can hardly look into human eyes
for three seconds but I can look into
the windows of an abandoned
ice cream parlor for three hours
& feel happy & productive.
The highlight(s) of my day is(are)
when I yawn and go deaf
for three seconds & am physically
not allowed to hear another
human voice.
A three second human voice vacation
is better than a week away
at a Sandals resort,
lemme tell ya.
“Hey, baby.
Wanna check out my frown collection?”
is a horrible pick up line
& this is probably why I’m alone.
I’m still mastering the art of keeping
people close enough so they can
love me but also far enough away
to the point where they can’t hurt me.
It takes practice.
Lots and lots of practice.
& shit… I dunno about you
but I’m still rooting for the cartoon cat
to catch the cartoon mouse
it’s chasing in my head.
It’s not much to root for
but it’s enough to keep you going
on these days when the shadows aren’t around
to share dirty, dirty jokes with.
June 17, 2016
iamhomeless:
Chewing the asphalt-flavored
bubblegum that is...
Chewing the asphalt-flavored
bubblegum that is your mind,
you watch the crumb-filled 6 train
pull out of the station like an arthritic,
rusty old man pulling his pants up
after a 20 minute, hard-stooled shit.
& then you’re alone again,
aging in a musty, gradual silence,
your mind quickly losing flavor
& still with no idea
where
it wants you to be.
June 16, 2016
iamhomeless:
On these slow-dying
Sunday afternoons,
you haunt...
On these slow-dying
Sunday afternoons,
you haunt me like persuasive
frozen pizza crust
refusing to be digested
& cross over.
I don’t care
we were no good
for each other -
I miss you.
June 15, 2016
iamhomeless:
Wounds & hang ups
float above your head
like...
Wounds & hang ups
float above your head
like gaping, black balloons
cobwebbed to dark matter-crumbs
of your childhood.
Despite their inflated,
car crash appeal,
the balloons make you invisible.
You don’t know why
you’re surprised over this
but you are.
