December 31st. A snow covered parking lot.
          White noise. An angry mob. Vacant
          stares. This is not a good place to die.
          And this is not a place of honor.
          Dying alone again, naturally.
          Of artificial means.

December 31st. A broken tv in the alley.
          We left it to rot.
          A silent drive back home.
          Gross on the radio.
          Could have turned things around.

December 31st. A movie on tv. Useless card trivia.
          Almost died in a ditch.
          That was a good place to die.
          They would have mounted a cross.
          I wouldn't have liked that.

December 31st. A gathering of complexity.
          Man blips out of existence,
          atm receipt in his mouth,
          gun in his hand.
          I wish I had been strong enough to do that.
          Video games and bad movies.
          Seems I'm not the only one who
          never forgot.

seven year old with a
can of olde english
stomping the gutter
chugging after breakfast
he's not a kid with
a lot of imagination
falling rocks from
the outer lithosphere
don't blink or
you might miss the best
victory is
never sweet

birthday card right after work
box of chocolates, wilted nosegay
everything's going to change
some are big, some are small
some aren't real after all
everyone is a critic
pleurisy and chewing gum
come stand outside we'll have some fun
riot after the bell rings
you don't know what you are
so no you can't borrow my car
everyone is a critque

minus world offer
two balloons for a dollar
take a swim on the chin
turn right here
my mathematical half
wonders where the negative went
and the positive side
got a shock with a grin