I'm going to start the Church of the Cautiously Observant.

See, we believe that the Almighty is:

A) Real.
B) Omnipotent, Omnipresent, Omniscient.
C) Up to something, possibly no good.

It is, therefore, our mission and goal to continually be on the lookout for Divine Mischief, as this could be happening at literally any time or place. If we are actively keeping an eye out, the potential for Divine Mischief diminishes, and we make the world a safer place. But we MUST be vigilant! Our adherents must spread to all corners of the globe, have eyes in every den and back alley, and they must never cease moving or watching. We must traverse plains, forge our way through jungles, climb mountains, seek crumbling vacant buildings.

We must have members of all faiths, for all deities are equally Mischievous, and must be watching accordingly on their own terms. We do not profess to know the identity of the Creator; indeed, the fact that his name, face, and motives remain obscured serves only as further proof of his potential for Deviousness. We further acknowledge that some pantheons include Gods of Mischief, and, again, extend open arms to any with such knowledge. But most of all, we invite those to whom the miraculous has never shown itself, for it is them especially whom the Divine Mischief chiefly avoids; their active presence can only aid our cause.

Cast your accusing eyes heavenward and join us today!

0143am.09.22.2013

the problem is unidentified
but you're a smart guy
i'm sure you can find a vice
that will make it go away
some sort of smoke
to obscure impending obstacles
or a gnawing addiction
to chew round the edges of modern life

or, sorry,
if you're sick of the smell
then maybe try not
to shit the bed so often

because, oh look,
here's another day,
sunlight pouring across concrete
illuminating another chance for you
to go double or nothing on life

and maybe you've come up empty handed
and maybe it was on my quiet watch
and maybe i'm not doing much better over here

but, yes,
all debts will be repaid,
whether we're alive or not to receive them,
and we'll collect the lots
we spent a lifetime casting;
the moment will come...
the great blow off...
the great thank you...
the great payout...
the great fuck off...
the great thank you...
the great blowout...

0136pm.

0248pm.06.26.2013

If I've said it once
I guess the words didn't transmit
My warnings unheeded
But you're not digging MY pit
Seems no sense in stopping
Until you've had your fill
Which is why I'm at your door
Cheering on this debacle
Not my head served up
Nor me behind the grassy knoll
No, that's me outside the morgue
Cheering on your funeral
Not me past the finish line
Not me leaving with words unsaid
But I am outside the cemetary
Cheering on the dead

1250am.06.28.2013

i heard you on the radio tonight

0202p.06.24.2013

i know that you're a warrior
so hear that this burden i bear
is a new war to fill your days
i bring enemies and obstacles
and the death of apathy

...what next?

your peace misread as boredom
all follies surely by the grace of god
were meant to play out their own way
and with no regard for our pleas
the days march by unchecked

...what's left?

voices replace older voices
as tones and timbres are forgot
beaneath the ashes of all else burned
and though i would not dare to guess at her sound
i could swear i heard her on the radio just now

...what's that?

0212p.

Forgetting, and remembering to forget to remember

Sometimes I don't know where I am or where I've been, but when the cider rinses off ten years of ash I can still taste you underneath, I feel like I could still wish you were here, like we could still hide under a blanketing electric lullabye until the stars themselves wink out in respect for... Whatever it is we have, or had, or wish for. You cried for the future, I cried for the past, and together we flooded any sort of present, yeah deep deluge with no outlet, a filled compartment forbidding so much as communication... How to send a message to one whose heart breaks with each syllable uttered? Why do I feel so burdened with something unsaid, when I don't even know the words to this song I hope to sing? And, must I walk this road a year for each drop of sweet liquid history that passes my lips? I must, I must, I wish 'twere otherwise, but such is this life we never chose, full of heartache and despair to temper the good moments into gleaming diamonds, shining gemstones to cling to when all light fails, and night has grown deep.

damn girl
you look like a million bucks
i feel like a damn
dirty old penny
head full of copper

no sense to spare
don't you dare
listen to this
just get on with yourself
i'm overdue
for the gutter

...come here

i found this in an old drawer, a half-remembered page torn from a notebook that lasted me through parts of 2007-2010. i don't think it ever made it's way into a collection, so i'm transcribing it here to ensure it makes it into the 2013 book.

there is a date in the top left, but it is covered by the one small water stain on the page. the juliet in question is a statue on navy pier, meaning i probably wrote this on break at work one day. unfortunately, this does not narrow down when this was.
---

i don't know how but i managed to escape
with a half a stolen sandwich
that compulsive paranoia made me drop
and a borrowed cigarette
which was used to spark an emotional hardburn
jealous bitter desire and longing
which in juliet's shadow makes me as cold as her
as she tries to stare east
across the lake at the rising sun
a theater cruelly, ironically blocks her gaze
eternally awaiting the return of her lover
but never able to look more than a hundred yards
straight east
meanwhile he rises on the sun each day
to look at the earth in search of her
and he has seen her from above and behind
but never her face.

i shrug hard to dodge a memory
wings flutter in response
shake off ethereal dust
don't remember, don't remember...
smile and conversate
...don't remember, don't remember

i'm sorry my mouth doesn't quite work
i believe one of my vocal cords is reserved
the line from my tongue to my brain goes two ways
and my hands are damned
but my lips are blessed
so come here