The Nothing

This is the new normal

the neverending story

a different couch but the same

comforting darkness

and I don’t need any pills to get through the day.

You taught me how to hold my breath indefinitely

how to need no one, or rather

how to remember what I already knew,

but then you died

and that wasn’t supposed to happen.



daddy installed a dimmer
now, the dimmer returns

pushing everything toward darkness

its glistening gold finish

making the transition imperceptible

until all of a sudden the room is black

and i am alone.

After death, a resurrection

You are dead.
I have killed you now.
Or maybe you killed yourself.

The point is, you’re no longer breathing
even though your heart still beats.

We held your funeral outside
in the smoke
while talking about how much we hate funerals.

I mourned you on the ride home and remembered
when you used to send me sad poems
and bad videos
and confide in me about everything,
even problems with your wife.
Especially problems with your wife.
When I was the only one you told things to.
When you said I could save you.

I tried to save you so many times
but now I see that I’ve failed.

You don’t have problems anymore.
You carry newspapers in your backpack
and party in South County.

​​You’re more important,
but only in a place
that’s become pointless.​

You focus on things that don’t matter
so you’ll never have to think
about things that do.​​

​You talk fast and walk faster,
always rushing to nowhere.


(And I’ve watched this happen before

I know life can go on long after you die

I knew mom was dead at the mall years before her body left an indentation
on the sheets)

But in the end it looks like you dying may have saved me.
Remember when we used to write poems and send them to each other?
Remember when we used to write poems?
How long has it been since you’ve written?
It’s been years for me and I think I died for awhile too.
Thank you for bringing me back to life.

In the breezeway

In the breezeway

In between place

He said he’d make a good god

And looking back I wonder

Who the fuck says things like that

But then something inside

Made me want to throw up

The omelette he made

or the faraway look

Like that first night in the field

When he contemplated all his names

Too much of him everywhere

And I slowly started to disappear