Vinyl (For Kyle)

http://charlespoet.podomatic.com/entry/2016-01-20T23_56_29-08_00

Cut into the grooves.

Indelicate truth.

Seventies Califone awash in blood and gore.

You’re a swell guy.

And I don’t meet many swell guys.

Wish we could eat chicken quesadillas together and forget we were ever wanting.

Pressing the flesh.

Honey Jack lies drip from your tongue like Amityville Horror flies.

That’s not you and it never will be no matter how often you sit in your room spraying paintball bullets onto a wounded prairie canvas.

I love visiting you at Lost Weekend.

It’s a home away from home which is quite incredible when I’ve never had a real home to speak of.

You’re a long lost brother and a newfound friend and when we happened upon each other in Noblesville I knew we were onto something.

Let’s go the distance before this record starts to skip.

Let’s go to the Hotel California before the voices down the corridor destroy us through their pathological need to be right, wrong or dead on arrival.

I’m imagining what it would be like having a dance party with you. You’d bring all the right records and we’d both feel like teenagers again for bludgeoned seconds at a time.

Charles Cicirella

1/20/16

You being you. Me being me.

http://charlespoet.podomatic.com/entry/2016-01-20T22_09_33-08_00

You being you. Me being me.

Same old, same old.

I’ll never change even though I hear change can be a positive thing.

Me being you. You being you.

On guard, on the fence.

You’ll never stop blaming yourself even though forgiveness can be the shit. I’ll never go easy on myself because even when I’m idling all my cylinders are firing.

We’re just a couple of beautiful losers who will never see eye to eye.

One word leads to the next and before you know it a declaration is smeared.

I was at a loss for words then I discovered your art and anything and everything became possible.

Charles Cicirella

1/18/16

The Crime Noir Weather

http://charlespoet.podomatic.com/entry/2016-01-17T22_04_40-08_00

The crime noir weather rolls in and washes us away.

I’m pretty stoned as the black tea steeps and I get ready to watch Truth.

Rain mirrors the pavement as I light the pipe and suck the smoke in.

I’m ready to check out because it beats sleeping all the time.

The crime noir weather haunts me like a Cole Porter refrain.

Don’t forget to water the plants and read as much Raymond Carver as you can get your hands on.

You’ll never figure anything out, but that’s okay as long as you keep your expectations in check.

He told me today he’s going to Mexico on vacation.

I became jealous because he has a life and I don’t.

I am happy for him. I just wish I wasn’t such a bottom feeder.

I go through the same routine every day. I’ve been living like this for too many years.

Used to believe the sameness was killing me, now I’m beginning to understand it’s the only thing keeping me present and accounted for.

The crime noir weather breaks up the monotony with more monotony.

Charles Cicirella

1/16/16