worst of all are ordinary wars

the ones we know with ease that we can win

remembering to brush our teeth

or hiding liquor under sinks

when really what we need to do

is dump them into drains,

and brush our teeth in early afternoon

so when the hour comes for sleep

there’s nothing left to do

but close our eyes

and drift away,

interims like pits of tar

swallowing us whole.


closed eyes open:

Hark! another morning comes

familiar and daunting, objectionably new,

at an end before it can begin.

i would rather live

my entire life

inside of the same day.

instead i take them as they come,

like money.


i am finished with

the tedium of simple wars.


i would rather sleep

until the hand of death awakens me,

its bony finger needling my ribs,

as voices fill my head


disharmonies a thousand strong

chanting in my skull:

it is over, it is done

it is over, it is done

it is over, it is done

before it can begin.

Written at 12:46 at night, in my office, in Agoura Hills CA. 

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