It Isn't You [It Is You (It Isn't Just You)]

You're not “someone I can talk to.” I'm just talking.

I never did learn shame, discretion, or inhibition.

And sure, I'm comfortable enough around you to nap,

But that doesn't mean a thing; I didn't sleep in your lap.

I trust my sleeping safety to my girth and my wheeze,

and all those times I shook Death's hand at cocktail parties.

I did wake up and have to ask what time it is,

But never know; I usually wake up and think that I'm still a kid.

In short, don't go reading into anything I do.

It isn't you. It is you. It isn't just you.

To a Girl at Safeway, Whose Time I Wasted

I have misread, miss-stepped, and misquoted.
My demons have grown scratchy-throated
From the smoke I've been blowing 'bout being improved,
But I oft' spend the half-minute that I need to choose
You as the best of ten years of mistake.
It was honestly made, with the lowest of stakes.
No one was left hurt when all was done...

...and it really did seem like you'd be fun.

The Only Part of Romance I Remember How to Do

I wish I hadn't done some of what I did.

I wish you hadn't done most of what you did.

I wish we hadn't done a single thing we did.

I wish you didn't exist.

The problem isn't what we did, or what we do,

Or even the fact that you exist.

It's just that that I don't know any way to

Forget about it.

Results of the Experiment were Unrepeatable

I have gotten into trouble

Wanting to be different,

Wanting to be better,

Wanting to be something.

I have gotten into trouble

Wanting to believe,

Because there is a river wide enough.

There is a mountain I can't climb,

and just because I did it

Doesn't mean it's not impossible.

Broken Glass, Broken People

If you don't understand, then you can't comprehend
All the lies told to eyes by the mirror and the lens.
You don't recognize my person, just a body and a face,
A house, or perhaps a prison—a place—
A dilapidated shack I didn't ask to inherit,
A mere maladaptive manufacturing defect.
You can't begin to meet, or even to see me
Until you read.

Beauty/Beast, or Little Miss Belle the Impaler Visits Waterloo

I know you as beauty; I know you as beast.
I know you by reputation, at least.
I've heard that you rip; I've heard that you tear
With the pearliest gleam of young teeth in your hair.
I've heard you befuddle; I've heard that you lie.
I've been warned that you always smell blood on new guys.
I doubt we're well metered;  I doubt we rhyme.
I doubt I'll convince you I'm not worth the time.
I'm sure you'll dare, and I'm sure you'll deign,
But you'll fine I'm a bit of a sponge for pain.
You can play to take, and I'll play for keeps.
It's only a game if you cannot weep.

Sir Isaac Newton Would Dig It

As a male, I'm a failed silver-tongued salesman

Who could ply minds with lies that only sound right,

But my sin of sloth saves me from doing work that's worse.

I'm not just fallen; I've hit every branch on the way down.

I used to be arrogant, advanced, ahead of my age.

I grew to be both proud and guilty about my gifts;

Had prodigious percentage of those pounded out, was still prolific.

I haven't just fallen; I've really fallen off.

Once a nerd nursing a nascent, narcotic need to be normal,

Stripping myself off to sell off everything that separates me,

I have taken a turn toward taking time to track down solitude.

I guess you could say I've fallen off the bandwagon.