still there

long gone are the days
my black back pack torn on the left side
my pencils and pens leaking poking into me and each other
between the barely cracked calculus and English literature text books
hid my shame
granules and grams of daze
smoke screen of reality
that monument to beyond desperation
magic and inaudible inside the halls
carpets the only witnesses
to the end of that road
paved with bad intentions all the way
men and women have become a mush
in the gut of torn illusion
bile dripping from its fangs
a smell of the bottom line of nothingness
lingers in my eyes as tears collect like astonished ladies
my right Doc lost somewhere on the 8th floor
my spirit mortgaged to the deceiver
who at the end of the spectacle
is not the one to blame
there are no rhymes roses stars or razor blades
just a fleshbone ghost out of place

just another day

mbrazfield (c) 2022

just another day
there are things
that are meant
to he secret
there are codes
that are followed
and no one
knows the meaning
or how the
human drama will
be played out
perhaps there will
be murder or
the sale of
drugs there will
be money to
be made no
matter what the
cost of it

blunted

mbrazfield (c) 2020

why so tough kid cry or something

i’m ok man don’t trip

your friend overdosed in the hall by the curtained room

are you telling her folks or who

we called your dad isn’t he coming

no he said

do you want to go to the hospital your nose is bleeding

it does that when i hurt

oh did you fall down

no i hurt for my friend growing up even my toys were mechanical

lost on the way

mbrazfield (c) 2020

ya ever listen to sister Tharpe wailing on her guitar while spiking up your mohawk

strumming and tugging at my strands as her sweet sultry honey melts into my ear veins

getting ready for TSOL to play on the Sunst Strip in LA balls to the wall sexy hell

underage but i don’t care the way i’ve been living i’m going no where

life was too lively growing up at home so i ran from the folks

and broke all the rules danced on the shore at 7 past noon

big black ugly boots Cinderella slippers were for fools

stick my tongue out at the sky fill my nose up with white lies

scratches cuts bruises and tears bloody trousers fists in the air

scent of cars black smoke and politicos resign my gender go underworld

Christ Savior i see the Son can You explain why i felt at 3 like 21

riding on the bus with the ladies of the night shift who went to clean the houses of the rich

indignation in their smile as bright brown eyes fell on my style

echoing in the length of the trains how can this child spit on the American dream

missing the point in what i conveyed symptom of the American nightmare lost on the way

couch skinning

I woke up mid morning thinking of how many ways can one skin a couch. I slept on the floor boards of the 8th floor room of a woman who used “whore” as her pronoun.  I smoked too many things last night and my head was throbbing. My nose bled some too as crunchy clusters of dried blood dropped onto my arm cupping my head.

Last night, on Werdin Place there were lots of people hangin’ out and doping up. Lounge lizards sitting on about half a dozen couches, right there in the middle of the musky alley. There was one couch in particular that was just foam and wood. It was still very clean, but as hard as I looked I couldn’t  see where the cloth covering had gone to.

So that morning I started off with two canned  espressos and a diet coke that I had in my book bag from last week. Tiffany came in from the shared bathroom down the hall. She was pissed or maybe her traced on eye brows were crooked. I just looked out the door past her calves. Someone was getting yelled at then she slammed the door. Her eyes were hard and mean; beady as hell too.  Tiffany once told me that her momma had an affair with Elvis after her daddy left them to join the Navy. I never doubted her.

Tiffany lit a bong shaped like a big purple cock. A present from one of her many admirers she gasped between inhales. She offered but I politely declined. I was a few years away from wanting to explore those kinds of shapes inside of my mouth. I could see she was offended as she smacked her lips and twisted her neck at me. It hadn’t been the first time so I hid my smile from her.

Taking three long slow drags from the bong she stood up slowly and dropped her worn out Wonder Woman beach towel. The dirty blond pubic tufts flayed from her arm pits and crotch were stiff and wire like. Tiffany sat back down and I could see skin hang like Christmas decorations from collar bones and ribs. She was beautiful in a medical way.

We didn’t talk. I stirred around my back pack and got the works and a rock out.  Tiffany held her chin high and words crawled from her ashy lips. You can cook and shoot if you let me fuck you. She smiled and said she had wanted a taste since last year.  I wasn’t fazed by her condition, but I was inconvenienced because I didn’t really want to walk down to Werdin. I answered under my breath. Tiffany told me to get the hell out of her house. I said ok but thanks for letting me spend the night. I was growing tired at 19. There were 700 rooms at low weekly rates and I couldn’t just yet rent one. All my assets were tied in under the counter investments.

my way…

i woke up mid morning thinking of how many ways can one skin a couch i slept on the floor boards of the 8th floor room of a woman who used “whore” as her pronoun i smoked too many things last night and my head was throbbing my nose bled some too as crunchy clusters of dried blood dropped onto my arm cupping my head.

last night on Werdin Place there were lots of people hangin’ out and doping up lounge lizards sitting on about half a dozen couches right there in the middle of the musky alley there was one couch in particular that was just foam and wood it was still very clean but as hard as i looked i couldn’t  see where the cloth covering had gone to

so that morning i started off with two canned  espressos and a diet coke that i had in my book bag from last week Tiffany came in from the shared bathroom down the hall she was pissed or maybe her traced on eye brows were crooked i just looked out the door past her calves someone was getting yelled at then she slammed the door her eyes were hard and mean beady as hell too  Tiffany once told me that her momma had an affair with Elvis after her daddy left them to join the Navy i never doubted her

Tiffany lit a bong shaped like a big purple cock a present from one of her many admirers she gasped between inhales she offered but i politely declined i was a few years away from wanting to explore those kinds of shapes inside of my mouth i could see she was offended as she smacked her lips and twisted her neck at me it hadn’t been the first time so i hid my smile from her

taking three long slow drags from the bong she stood up slowly and dropped her worn out Wonder Woman beach towel the dirty blond pubic tufts flayed from her arm pits and crotch were stiff and wire like Tiffany sat back down and i could see skin hang like Christmas decorations from collar bones and ribs she was beautiful in a medical way

we didn’t talk i stirred around my back pack and got the works and a rock out  Tiffany held her chin high and words crawled from her ashy lips you can cook and shoot if you let me fuck you she smiled and said she had wanted a taste since last year i wasn’t fazed by her condition but i was inconvenienced because i didn’t really want to walk down to Werdin i answered under my breath Tiffany told me to get the hell out of her house i said ok but thanks for letting me spend the night i was growing tired at 19 there were 700 rooms at low weekly rates and i couldn’t just yet rent one all my assets were tied in under the counter investments

lava rocks

first the beers

then the hard stuff

then snow

she said good God don’t you feel alive

i moved my face down

my eyes look up

grimace at the stars

smoke invades my ratted hair

miss my cat she said

his name was butterfly

got killed by coyotes in the west hills

don’t you miss your cat

silence

then a nod

a snort

and a pop

i don’t have pets

i’m not responsible enough

brown eyes tears up

cheeks scarlet

my parents hate me

i’ve been such a huge problem

i saw yellow rose buds in the therapy room she heaved

they want to put me on depakote i said

my nose bled a little

why

i flipped my daddy’s car

on the 10 heading east

oh

then she swallows loudly

malt liquor spills out

from the corners of her cold sore covered mouth

but i dig it here i say

i’m thankful for the cool scars i caress and stretch my arm

and that i am aware of my self destruction i guess

sounds like you’re winning the battle she says

my face falls

under my breath

reaching for another cigarette

i hear the boots coming to seek us out

we know the routine

our tiny back packs get buried under the decorative lava rocks

officer Cassidy and the J walking kid

you/so what is the problem now

me/ nothing

you/your father is worried

me/hmmm… i haven’t seen him in three weeks

you/the school district is thinking of recommending a level 12

me/i don’t wanna go

you/it’s for your protection

me/all the shit i needed protection from has already happened

you/ why are you angry

me/why not

you/do you think sarcasm will help you

me/i’m not asking it to

you/your psych tests show you’re very smart

me/i’m a girl

you/(smile)

me/so… are you charging me or what

you/what’s the rush

me/you bore me

you/you made the driver crash his car

me/how do you figure that i was just crossing the street he ran the stop sign thinking i would suck his dick

you/now is that language necessary

me/i’m talking the way you boys do

you/he says you ran toward his car

me/i did not i was crossing the street J-walking to be perfectly honest

you/so you’re saying he was trying to kidnap you

me/no you’re saying that

you/enlighten me

me/he sped up as i was getting on the curb he thought i was a hooker

you/hmmm…are you sure

me/look i didn’t total a car so i really don’t care what you think or believe

you/your dad is worried about you he thinks you’re doing drugs

me/i know he’s doing drugs and more

you/you’re so young why so much hate and rage

me/(smile)

you/well

me/i’m cool man

you/maybe you need to go to juvey for a while

me/on what charge

you/(silent glare)

me/was my mom called

you/she told the principal to call your father

me/(knot in throat) cool

you/the driver wants to press charges

me/that’s fine

you/do you care about anything

me/sure i’d like to visit Bora Bora someday and i love NASA

you/you’re a piece of work

receptionist/the parent said he’s not dealing with this to call the mother

you/were going downtown kid

me/(knot in throat) may i request a copy of “The Catcher in the Rye”

you/(silent glare)