Viking Funerals and Christmas Lights

And in the nightmare
my younger brother drank poison and whiskey
because he craved
to die on his own terms
instead of letting the cancer
turn him into an old man
at 25,
so he threw the elixir back
very fast with his eyes closed
and in true                          
viking funeral fashion
floated dead down the river,
his body aflame
turning to embers and ash.

I found it frustrating
that when I walked 
I could always see
the blood drenched boys
running with their guns,
shooting each other
to fund some
fat bat’s purse
while their wives
cry in broken down
lighting candles to save
their soldiers
from themselves,
after the war
when the bruises started,
and he wept
as she held him
when he talked
of the stars falling
out of the sky
and burning his forehead
leaving a scar.

Isnt it funny
how those freezing nights
seem to crave
all the sad songs
until youre heaving tears
from what feels like the stomach,
til nausea sets in
and you cant seem
to get a full and deep breath?
But then I would go
for drives
to feel the cold air
on my face,
turn the music up
until I could feel
nothing else
but the melody,
drive through subdivisions
to see the twinkle lights
wrapped around houses
and the warm Christmas tree shadows
in kitchen windows

which always made me smile.

Lace and Teeth

I couldn’t seem to write
how I think
because my thoughts
were those of a
blood bitch
who was coughed up from
the red boiling gates
of hell that it was my duty
to guard as
the hot metal melted the skin
off the sinners’ bastard bone
which I then lick off
my fingertips smiling sorrow.

And goddamn it
you talk too much,
casting nasty magic
with your hollow words,
raising coffins from the undergrowth
within the syrup sludge
formaldehyde mixed ego,
all phrased in one long whine,
pigs playing
peeping toms in
the windows of
my childhood,
and we got so used to
the ever-staring eye
that as we grew we
learned to self-censor
just in case hes watching
and wanting to be entertained.
We are told over and over
that we like it
until we believe it to be true.

Heaven’s archangel helped YOU maybe
but I fucked her in back alleys
exactly how she wanted it
and she liked it a little too much
for my taste,
but in the end
it was too rough for her
to admit to her
white wedding friends,
so she dragged me,
her almighty secret,
to the cellar,
and to hide her shame,
cuffed my neck to the radiator
with a one-two step
and a curtsy
as she took off her underwear,
throwing it in my face,
leaving me to rot in the damp dark.

Lace and teeth
changing the scene
to the boy next door,
fashion and raging out
to System of a Down
while he popped the heads
off barbie dolls
to make a necklace
out of their pretty
little lip-glossed faces.

Through it all,
my family weeps,
pleading with me
to write of
prancing ponies
and fields of fancy flowers
of which I knew nothing,
and it felt unfair and unnatural
to fake happy
after all the bad boy abuse,
the deaths of father
and brother
whom I still saw every night
as the medium gifts
became heightened
in my periphery,
and unfamiliar ghosts
turned on faucets in my kitchen,
scratched me in my sleep,
and screamed obscenities
at me through
my reflection in the
madness mirror,

And even after all this time
I STILL couldn’t forgive you
for all your taking,
always putting the drugs
before my heart space
and never saying you’re sorry,
like you actually mean it
for the bruises on my ass
that I never wanted to be there.
In truth, I hated myself for hating you
through the fog of the damned
that I felt I deserved
because you had told me so.

Thus what could I do
but be me,
in all my gory glory,
silence the
social pressures
of denial and
the never-ending
buying and selling of bodies,
so I took the shotgun
you kept in your closet
though I protested and loathed
the violence of it all
and blew the window out
of your bedroom wall
where you kept
your catechism
so I could get fucking free.
I must write the truth
of the horrorshows I’d witnessed
even if it killed me,
and regardless of the page that enjoyed my pain,
I seized my last gasps of air
before joining my
kindred spirits,
sipping bourbon and laughing loud
under the biggest
weeping willow

Id ever seen.