Vagrants & Paraphernalia

Barbed Wire Boy

He had a stare like barbed wire.

It dug into my skin,

iron burs.

A double set

of twisted fence;

a barricade.

And I wondered if there was solace

on the other side

or if it was as rigid as

his fencepost spine.

He slid a cigarette between perfect teeth

moving like he was stacking up bricks

high as the alley walls

crumbling on every side.

As the fsk fsk fsk

of his dying lighter gasped

I slunk by.

Feeling the spurs pierce my skin

I left the barbed wire boy behind.

Emergency Contact: Grim Reaper

You look as if you and death are best friends.

The look that says

your soul is crawling around

under your skin

just below your jaw

maybe stuck in your throat

like it's trying to find its home.

I like that.

Old Houses, a Money Pit for Emotions

Feeling connected to you is like

being connected to the electrical circuit

in a hundred year old house,

shorting out and blowing fuses.

And still, I fall back onto that splintered

hardwood floor

thinking only a little polish

will make it new again.

I’m afraid to say the words

that might keep you here forever.

What is forever for you?

When you’re so self-destructive.

I think one day those circuits may

catch fire

and take you down in a blaze

I’ll be helpless

to choke out.