Wednesday, December 28, 2016


words are my friends
they supply context
there is no conditioning
only recourse
and unsanitary death

wanna fuck
wanna go the distance
this poet prepared
to go anywhere
and do what must be done

Darin Bulai a wilderness explorer
someone who doesn’t give a shit
and that makes all the difference
and that makes no difference at all
broken and cast away like dead flowers

suicide such a waste of time
your breath counts
even if your vote doesn’t
and being a patriot
never worth the paper it was printed on

welcome to Cleveland
where poets are treated like used Bic lighters
and if you wanna go the distance do it somewhere else
because talent and celebrity are two very different things
welcome to the end of the line you stupid son of a bitch

all over the map
when it comes to being a navigator I suck
but I will always bring good music
so when we get lost
we can rage against the dying of electricity

they don’t have to pay attention
I’ll soon get over that
plus there’s this mighty cute young Scottish lass
who seems to like how I spill words onto the page
and that’s worth way more than being the next flavor of the month

words are my friends
my confessor
my therapist
and they are my assassin
when I am tired and daylight stops answering my emails

Charles Cicirella

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