cherries

i see the flowers sprouting

from her eyes,

over there in the dark corner

of the bar where neon lights

from a hipster beer sign

shine upon the petals,

and it reminds me of you

and all the weeds i had

to poison

because the pulling out

wasn’t working.

tongue twisting

cherry stems,

sucking seeds

cherry cleaning;

i love the taste of cherries,

i love the memory of you,

i hate the taste of new love,

i want my old fermented

familiar twisted and knotted

cherry back … so i can

give it new seed.

-JDR-

just one

i circle around

these square

blocks

looking for the elusive one;

one, two, three,

go by

but my eyes are on focused

on the cracks

in the ground

and the dark clouds

in the sky

wondering

why

that trash can is full

but this one is empty.

coffee beans

and

massage oils

fill

the air with a strange

transparency

lifting my spirits to the heavens

while i sip on spirits at club heaven.

perhaps i haven’t found the

elusive

one

because i’ve been limiting

my search

to

just one.

-JDR-

contemporary mating

dating…

i’ll tinder you,

i’ll match.com you,

i’ll OKcupid you,

i’ll eharmony you,

i’ll [enter ethnicity].com you,

but tell me this one thing

before we go any further,

are we gonna fuck

or

what?

cuz i can just swipe right

to the next one

who’ll most certainly

want to fuck this

royalty,

knighted by the Queen

herself

(pretend royalty, obvs;

it’s the internet…duh),

but i did eat the Queen out,

so that must count for

something;

dry aged pussy –

it’s the new foodie thang,

or will be soon enough.

i’ve always been a trend setter.

-JDR-

clipped wings

I got nothing for you,

inspiration,

not even all the interesting

people

walking

sitting

running

and kneeling

and crawling

with no birds flying around

the free food;

not that i noticed with my

face in my phone

peeking at this girl

i

secretly

secrete for,

while i pretend to search for the birds.

where are those god damn birds anyway?

one empty bottle turns into

two empty bottles

and the fowl i want still hasn’t

noticed me,

but one of the foul ones has,

but after two bottles,

who the fuck cares?

well, the morning;

yeah, the morning;

that’s who cares.

-JDR-

trying to make it home

IMG20170731154312.jpgI could see she was exhausted,

as I took a drag from my cigarette

with a half-glass of cheap whiskey

in my other hand

ready for immediate consumption.  

She wanted to know where home was.

She wanted to know when she’d be there.

I peered at buildings and

people

and water

through the caged window

knowing that I couldn’t give her the answer

she desired.

I could only simply reply,

“when you’re with me,

you are home.”

I’m not sure she comprehended my sentence

since we were both drowning in our sorrow,

but I managed to steal one more kiss from

her – she always tasted like my soul mate;

fermented, tobacco coated, with an aftertaste

of codeine.  Hopeless,  

I fell asleep with my eyes open,

and like any soul mate would do,

she happily joined.

-JDR-