Wednesday, January 30, 2019


Go ahead and water board me
I double dog dare you
Tired of you wiping your ass with my 7-11 mouth

Some lines stun you right from the greasy-get-go
You don’t have time to both pick up the child and run to safety
Many rattlesnakes are bound to bite you regardless of path taken

The fried chicken was exceptional, but it wasn’t as finger lickin’ good as the last time you scolded me for getting too close to your pink chakra  
Room service can go the way of the dinosaurs if getting a hot cheeseburger is no longer a reasonable request
You weren’t a veteran, so instead of burying you with an American flag we buried you in your best grey suit and never once pretended to look back

Words come to me like disinfectant wipes ready to block out the Sun’s hazardous rays and when I gather the courage I’ll climb again into the shower-mausoleum and give my entire self a good talking to
You were wonderful when invisible, but when you materialized it wasn’t as much fun to finger your holy ghost
Let’s call it quits or at the very least call it what it was from the start, a sham that never grew quite enough hair to cover up its face and go incognito

Go ahead and stick a firecracker up my ass
I triple dog dare you with a side of our famous slaw
Tired of you filling my collegiate mouth with your slovenly slurs Slouching Towards Gomorrah

Charles Cicirella

Thursday, January 24, 2019


I climbed inside her artificial space
Opened my lunch pail
Replayed episodes of The Andy Griffith Show in my episodic skull bank

First time she painted in front of me she wore nothing, but the Kool-Aid she’d been drinking before I wasted her afternoon with my late-night shenanigans
Before dipping my eye-periscopes into her snuff-film trails of snail sludge and Scott Baio DNA I called my Rabbi to perform last rites
I knew I was over my head and wished to return to the cockroach infested room I was renting on Ninth Avenue with the Leonard Cohen records pushed way back in the gay closet

Julia unbuttoned my prerequisites and scolded me for not looking her in the third eye when serving her asparagus in some kind of cream sauce
I allowed her to have her way with me because it had been decades since anyone had seen me in my birthday suit and I figured I was due for a happy ending
She sized up the canvas and swallowed it in one decisive bite. I felt like a box of chocolates that had all of its cream and caramel sucked out of it

Her rock-wall- psyche was one national monument I could not face in my present condition of plusses waxed and minuses whacked
I knew she wanted desperately to end it so I ordered takeout from that Thai place around the corner and exposed my pink hairy belly for the final demoralizing time
She’s the Opie to my Aunt Bee and I’ll never forget the first time we spent time in the same cell and how she never complained not even when the remote had been misplaced and no one could watch their favorite programs

Charles Cicirella

Tuesday, January 22, 2019


Her paintings come to life and I am right there with her family
Catching the sunlight off the white cliffs of Dover

We wanted to be passive, but it didn’t fit our resourceful resumes
We wished for domestication before it was in fashion
The dog collar doesn’t fit around my neck because I’m not a dog

She paints and I become her student because she’s every musical festival rolled into one except for Altamont where the blood flowed like carmine red
There’s no excuse for all this infighting except that man was created for war and continues to be bred for violence and victimhood
All the tolerance and patience in this world ain’t gonna teach us a single, solitary thing when we listen only to our oversized phones and refuse to see through anything, but rose tinted shot glasses

Haw rips off the Band-Aid with her feral brushstrokes of soft terror and real love
Her spirit animal is a honey badger because she takes shit from no one
Let’s lose ourselves in exhibitions gone awry as we have breakfast in bed and choke on another origami swan of desolation and penniless regret

Her paintings breathe new life into my old, underdeveloped bones
No amount of calcium is going to help me walk erect
When Julia opens her eyes, moonlight pours into my soul like I am another infant in desperate need of Vitamin D milk and a fearless new direction

Charles Cicirella

Friday, January 11, 2019

Preemie Blue

Small beats

Doughnut hole
Tango dance hall
Surgical precision

Electrical grid
Poltergeist parent trap
Infrastructure invalid

Uncle Sam busted
Buckets of hubris
Credit junkie

Lost his mind
Concession speech
Sweating vials of poison

Baby love
Unconditional love
No expiration date

Charles Cicirella