i had this
sad
idea

more of
an image

it was a
trumpeter

alone

playing his sadness
to the cold
night

this would be
ten-times easier
if i were
ten-thousand miles
away

but i'm not
you're here
and i'm here

i feel like
we're in one
of those old
tom wait's songs
one of the sad
ones

the kind that
God
gave him
that voice
to sing

but this
isn't a song

this is real
painfully
real

and now
this is
our goodbye

i've got a million things to say.
i've got nothing at all.

i variously want to climb the highest building.
and tear it down.
steel girder by steel girder.
in hopes
that its destruction
will empower
the small
the weak
those who think
they aren't good enough.

sometimes i wonder
how anyone
can be angry
about anything.

when we live in a world
like we do.

and then some
asshole
tells me
that i'm doing it wrong.

then i understand.

that this is just one
crazy
trip.

so this is how it all begins

william carlos williams
once wrote some shit
about a wheel barrow

it was good
but i didn't understand

i knew it was good
but it didn't make sense

and then i died
and it all made sense

only dead did i see
the wheelbarrow

and the rain