Friday, March 4, 2011

Smoking is Sexy


Lucky Strike promises.


Eternal health.


Masculine appeal.


Cowboys.


Motorcycles
and detectives in black and white.


Blues bars- formerly 
choking with atmosphere.
Cigarettes stuck in the strings of
Gibson
Gretch and
Fender.


Embers glowing in
Dylan's shades


Then there was disease-
black lungs in elementary school jars and
holes in the throats of 
ancient puffers speaking with
robotic tongues.


Denial 
Repression
what should be believed
what is inside them?
what is inside of us?
we know
we don't care
we should.


Bogart and Bacall
sharp eyes through hazy air


HS Thompson, pulling through a filter.


Dean eternal,
McQueen eternal-


cool.




Where is masculinity?
What is it?
Where has it gone?


Where is my pipe?
my violin?
my revolver?
or my faithful horse?


Gone they say;
consumed in 
a grey cloud of cancer.


Bitter betterment
at the hands of
lollypops
toothpicks
medicated patches
and electronic
handheld
flavored
fog machines.


Habits die hard
cultures die hard


Nothing for coffee but pastry
nothing for behind the wheel but the radio
nothing to make the throat singe after sex
nothing to complete the image.


ghost limbs
reaching out of celluloid
reaching out of every smoking area
reaching out of the back of your mind


ghost limbs of
identity

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

I Never Wanted You Dead



Looking to inspiration
and seeing only a match struck
in a dark bathroom mirror.


Huge eyes were cast upon you
and the world swallowed your soul
now you are a sticker,
a scratched vinyl,
an echoing voice
calling forward-
from when you mattered.


Tears won't do a damn thing;
choruses of
Bravo!
Encore!
Encore!
no more
we don't call anymore
and you can't answer.


Questioning beliefs
lead to new questions,
new realizations.
You were never God,
you were never a god-
you were a conduit for grace
talent and
majesty.


As your flesh decays
and your eyes gloss over with grey


I'll stand here
inheriting the spirit
hoping that younger generations
don't move as fast.