My intention

Was to lock myself

In that motel bathroom

Curl up in the tub

And open my mind

With a bag of mushrooms

And a box cutter

Thank God you were there

And needed to take a shit

David Burdett

6/28/2023

It was a boring

Teenage hopeless

Day with nothing

On the horizon

The first time

I injected

The film melted

As the world exploded

Into Technicolor

We talked for hours

Fucked for days

Sold ourselves

Down the river

Then picked up

Another issue

And sealed our fate

David Burdett

11/4/2021

The palms

Of gray clouds

Pushing against

My cedar lined chest

Calming the better

Parts of who I am

Tuna casserole

And good coffee

For breakfast

It truly is

The little things

That keep me

From destroying

What I believe

I think

I have become

No thanks

To you

David Burdett

6/27/2023

"what" rambled

Nature

of Love?

the Knife upon

the plate

grated

aughh!

that's enough

[nothing out]

This house

is very, very

tough, though

rare, medium

Like

a stake

gardening

in the heart

d i v i d e d

06.26.2023

ee cummings & emily dickenson progeny challenge @DrSemicolon

I like to think we were in love,

I and the girl so different than me--

Torn leather jacket, one fingerless glove.

My babydoll dress to her faded blue jeans.

She cared too much, it dragged her under,

Played with fire and ice to mask her fears.

Her wishes drowned out by rolling thunder,

Only I could see her dried-up tears.

I believe we were in love, once,

Before she was blinded by a world of weapons.

But her cautious love was the devil's last chance

To steal her away from the pillars of Heaven.

It seemed that she was gone already

As I shut my eyes and wished her well.

And I heard the engine in her '57 Chevy

As she ran from love like a bat out of Hell.

i etch your name

into every church

or mosque

or temple

that i find.

the walls warn me

that blasphemy doesn’t fare well

for foolish girls

with scrawny arms and jittery hands.

i tell them their god is cruel;

they tell me that mine is dead.

(i’d rather the embrace of a dead man

than the mercy of a cruel one.)

Hope has hands as rough as clay

with holes and cracks

that cut and bleed

Love, like Hope, prefers to hide

behind the lies that mend my cuts

and trickle easy down my hands

they are young girls

who hurt to hold

within chapped hearts

if only I could

stoke their fire

shield them from my blood-warm tears

then perhaps Dame Luck

would smile down

upon my bleeding heart

I can see her golden hair

The fire in her amber eyes

Hidden ’hind the spit-clean windows

Of your father’s ’57 Chevy

I don’t got no balls of steel

And my blurry vision

Leaves but dried-up tears

Yet I long to say my vows with her

Before the pillars of Heaven

The sight of her burns like fire and ice

Melts me into a puddle of sweat

Drowns me in my faded blue jeans

Till’ there’s nothing left but my soul to see

The rolling thunder beckons me forth

Tellin’ me it’s the devil’s last chance

I slide out from my hiding place

And run like a bat out of Hell

Torn leather jacket flapping like wings

Wings that chase after her

Wings that will take her from you