NB: These are several individual poems, written to be read as five second jobs, short and sharp, sour or sweet.

ENOUGH
Not enough,
Never enough,
Words crowd,
Silence is enough

CRACKED
Split,
Pierced,
Cracked,
Right through the heart

NEEDY
You're needy,
I see it in your eyes,
You're dying,
I shut my eyes,
Too fast to save you,
Too slow to forget you

BEAUTIFUL
I'm beautiful
When I look into your eyes

SIGH
Soul escaping,
For a breath of stale air,
Sigh,
Let your soul breathe

FLIGHT
Plunge
Soar,
All too soon
Land with a crash

TEAR
Small part--
Of what
Could
Drown this world

SILENCE
Silence is
Many noises
Orchestrated and played
In such a way that there is
Silence


Now, I liked this one, and I wanted to "Shortenize" it, but here it is anyway - BEWARE, tis not a five second job =]


A Crust of Bread & A Barrel of Beer

I'm trying not to spill over
(mmhmm, trying not to cry)
When I'm looking into the puddles of dirty rain
(congealed in your muddy eyes)
Waiting for the last bus at midnight
Asphyxiated,
(stale puffs of sweaty cigarette smoke)
watching your shadow
(curve into another)
In the noir depths of your bedroom

I never ate crusts because I wanted straight hair
I never drank water because it tasted like bad sleep
I had beer and I had bread

When I was with you
You made me lighter
(leaf on the wind)
You made me so complete
You broke me in half
You glued my dead limbs back together again

I never ate crusts because I wanted straight hair
I never drank water because it tasted like bad sleep
I had beer and I had bread

Towed along in the undercurrent
Bruised and bleeding from sharpened rocks
Bruised and bleeding
On the ceiling, sitting on the ceiling
(but I learned how to laugh when someone died)
I pulled my hat over my eyes
(smudged my mascara)
Cried a little but then laughed and laughed and laughed

I never ate crusts because I wanted straight hair
I never drank water because it tasted like bad sleep
I had beer and I had bread

I learned how to steal, I learned how to kill,
I learned how to rip up a body and eat my fill,
But all I will carry
(on my weary way to your grave)
In my knapsack,
All I will carry
Is a crust of bread and a barrel
(yeah, a barrel)
a barrel of beer.

Hope I get real drunk along the way.

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