This desk is my confessional.
Another Wasted Day, Another Inebriated Night
Cigarette Party
On discovering the photographs
I fumbled with my keys
Trying to lock back up
Whatever it was inside of me
I’ll stare
Into the translucent
Reflection of my own eyes
And make-believe
I’m gazing into hers
And for once in this paltry life
I’m going to write where I went wrong
Even if it kills me
Village Bones
Epiphanies found in gas station parking lots
Gifted from dashboard tape decks
I lost myself so long ago
Somewhere in forgotten sins
I lie in long grass beneath crumbling mausoleums
And pray that my lament will be sung in a small quiet town
As the gilded light of dusk
Glows through naked trees
and the metal crosses of church steeples
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