Stop and Go

Hang my head until it drags my bones

          I watch the skin peel from skin in my finger tips
I don't feel it go

          --it smells like a dentist's office here--with all the
white light--

          I relax my bowels to the sound of
approaching footsteps

Sage

conversation of 8 thousand miles
from down the hall,

jack reads whalen Interglacial on
toilet bowl 40 years ago,

I read on the same stinking toilet bowl of time,
shit toilet bowl of the fractured mind,

saturday morning like saturday morning,
bodies like body,
sag. age;

and it's all a tightening circle,
slowly sinking, flushed down.

Kid + Marya

chip chatter pulled to the end of line
too much of me to make much of
anything outta this whole gasping nothing

these kids above the bowl
stinking of wine, grease,
glint of blade and brilliance
carved jagged letter before that jump

all fingers on handles
whisper cautiously someones
at the baying door and we're the opposite sex

to drown to drown to drown
left a name left a spinning nowhere mystery

two bodies sleeping soulless
chatter on the walls drifting throughout time

I read it sometime in my future
before the walls decayed, before
their names, painted over.

Bathroom Break

Everyday the same fuckers in
the bathroom, washing their hands,
brushing their fucking teeth, afraid
to catch eye contact in the mirror
because then they might have to
admit that there's other men out there
that piss and freshen up, remembering
to flush when they fart (out of
embarrassment), waiting for you
to leave before they shit, (embarrassment too)
ignoring the cleaning guy cause he's just
some poor Mexican and they fuck
enough poor Mexicans in the ass
long distance that they're dried out by the
time they see one in person,
everyday I watch these assholes and I glare
into the mirrors waiting to catch them
so I can give them a half smile, the kind
that says "I know you,"
the kind that says, "I know you and
I hate you."

I kept it going

You pumped your fist at me,
I understood the silent stare, the flush at
Starbucks wasn't working,
the handle was limp, other
option closed-down-rubber-mat-
folded-up-over-two-cardboard-boxes
tight, I remembered your serious face
as I pissed without looking,
no paper towels and I pushed
my hands under the faucet dripping,
wiped them on my pants and
kicked that door open, an old lady
caught my eye (next in line)
I passed it along darling,
don't worry
I pumped my fist and locked my sights