From Zeno to Hero

The paradox of infinite halves keeps your lips from mine?

Carson City

Where fat old men inquire into good fortunes and ailing wives in casino bathrooms. 

Where desperation and smoke rest heavy and sick sweet on the air.

Where the desert fails. 

Where money is a lullaby.

Pinus Longaeva Haiku

Older than man's god.
Still, in the heat and the cold,
The Methuselah. 

Half Lives

I have been living half lives. And with increasing frequency I am disintegrating. The condition was discovered at an early age. And I have grown with and against it. There is a formula which describes the rate of my exponential decay. And I am not a mathematician, but I have been told that the day will come when there is nothing left to halve.

Beer Enema

The journey of beer can start where it ends.

Instead of blood in your stool, your colon gets cleansed.

The end.

Growth

I will extract the offending flesh and bottle it in a formalin solution where it can be safely studied behind glass. I will place it on the shelf. I will note its shape. I will note its size. I will record everything about it in a book; close the book and put it on the shelf. 

Bad Mirror

I get lost in the long nights. Just me a pen and the city lights. My art has always been more honest than my life, and there are times when I don’t want to read what I write. So I drink until I can't hold a pen.