five haiku about negative feelings (A short cycle of five poems)

a haiku about sickness

i just called in sick
i wasn't lying, i feel
how i always feel

a haiku about fatigue

i woke up at two
in the afternoon today
then went back to sleep

a haiku about uncertainty

'what's in store for me?'
when i try to ponder this
i have crying jags

a haiku about defeat

'oh fuck it', i say
i have been saying that phrase
more often lately

a haiku about regret

i now hate all these
haiku, but i hate all things
i do at some point

thoughts while reading 'on the road' for the first time (Poem)

so, sal's heading off
to find 'the heart of america'
or some shit

he won't find it

this country is a big fucking tin man
and wizards only exist
in best-selling children's books
written by british women

announcing my candidacy for president (Poem)

i have decided to run for president

don't tell me i'm too young or have no experience
anyone who says that is an america-hating communist
or terrorist

did obama make it cool to call people communists again?
political trends are really fickle

for my first act i will abolish congress
and replace it with one thousand gorillas
typing on laptops

i will drag dead animals of various kinds
into meetings with foreign leaders
and use the dead animals to hit them in the face

i feel the flag no longer accurately reflects
the zeitgeist of america
so i propose a new design
which consists of a picture of a severed hand
flipping the bird and mounted on a giant cheesburger

vote for me, bitch

i'm ben a. and i approve this message
i also approve of giving illegal drugs to children
and driving drunk

bone dust and glitter (Poem)

today, i woke up in a bath of syringes and broken glass
with a harpy perched on my chest
the ghosts that constantly float around
my in-the-clouds head had abandoned me
to a state of perpetual mental ne'er-do-well
nearby, babies screamed for the touch of their mothers and food
but never to be had again
buildings burned as they did
since the time of the great white nothing
and the poison air was thinner
while needy blades were quietly left unsatisfied

i want to tell you how much i love you
but the urge to peel back your flesh
and embrace your smooth skeleton
was far too strong
as i lay next to you
i watch the lights dance behind my eyelids
they remind me of when meaning meant something
and hatred was clearly distinguishable from boredom

no sense intended to be made

i've been asleep inside a box full of comfortable lies
and packing peanuts for the past two weeks
it's time to wake up

Brad (Poem)

Originally published in the Spring 2009 issue of Sketch.
______

I started getting
calls a month ago.

They were all the
same woman asking
for Brad.

They were all the
same wrong number.

They finally stopped
and my phone hasn’t
rung for almost
three weeks.

I miss those calls.

Fingers (Poem)

Originally published in the Spring 2008 issue of Sketch.
_____

The greatest guitar player that
ever lived sits in his room
and practices.

As he plucks his instrument
all he hears
is a deafening cacophony of self doubt.

So when he finishes
he runs a record player needle across his fingers
and pretends they can play beautiful music.

Drip Drop

Welcome friends.