'final test'

drink till all goes spinning

riches a combustion within the head

rejuvenated spark a circle

an expression of deafness,

     immediately night flutters

     and a pedestal

     above the strange and fantastic,

     this imperceptible ghost.

multiplied the fall

a stiff wire my shadow jumped

top bottom, almost incarnate,

now the others disorient

the pale of my spirit and regrets

like a hasty man’s mistakes.

     but my own, severed, twitching

     and awakened; the idea i am trying

     to read language again

     words full of hours and transparent with

     darkness.

the morning worker buzzes my window.

flattered, i loop sentences around my 

throat and opening the sash i find my way

to a most peaceful conclusion. 

*

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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(volume up)

‘no title’

left hand receives.

the universe’s temperament 

presses with its giving hand

against my throat.

why did i come here to drink?

assessment of my days

like a piano hits the wrong notes.

four stools down the maestro

taps a blue pen. unforgivingly. 

jesus bathes under mosquito corpses.

the last draft of my story

requires a final edit.

with a whoosh the front door opens,

so quiet as it closes.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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‘in a hotel away from eyes’

the haunt is recognizable staring back

i know this from when i was young

the father, the son, neither ever holy,

like stray dogs followed the ghost

of which so many but now only one.

the watch gone missing

though like cicadas the spinning hands

buzzed and interrupted unseen thoughts,

until finally manifested too late.

“i don’t want to die”

but by then cancer claimed him,

a cheap stripper

breasts squeezed together for a last fleshly feel.

lately my watch

has been slipping down my wrist.

maybe he never had time

to think it through but i have,

and once they get past

the do not disturb sign

they’ll find me jesus on the cross,

and they’ll say

this is the exact time he went done,

last dollar looking to be broken

from his mouth. 

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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‘the light in the dark’

every story has a start. so this is what that is. a start. or maybe this is the end, because a start does not necessarily begin cleanly. so this might very well be the start of the end. and if you think i’m being poetic, i’m not. i think i’ve reached the point where i can be honest and say i’m existing, and that’s just not life, right? every day struggling to find meaning while excuses add up. why am i staying when my worth has been proven less? it’s a bitter pill to swallow when only now i’m asked what’s wrong and the distance between soul and body is so far gone. maybe this is for my daughter. she’ll never understand my prose but i hope she’ll keep my voice. maybe it’s a way for her to know the faces i wore were never those i wished to own. morning after morning, brushing her hair, while hopelessly tangled in my own wears. maybe for her, right? or maybe, maybe for me, to keep from leaving, to digest all of the meanings, like the markers i was taught to read on the trail. it’s all so tragic. and i guess that’s why i’m a healer. the giver to keep your pain. the light in the dark when no one else sees. so this is the start of the story. i left to stumble back. a fool to still share myself. a fool you still keep my heart. and i’ll say this is what’s eating me alive without speaking those words. and maybe i can heal you one day, or maybe save someone else. and maybe i’ll decide to keep going, or maybe choose it’s all too much. we all want to be happy, don’t we? we all want to be accepted for our true selves. so this is me. when you feel your end coming, you rewind to the start. a step backwards to maybe move forward.

or something like that.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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‘abditive’

part of the sham is participating in it. so pour the masquerade like a cold one into glass. drink it slow or fast. doesn’t matter because the bloat will follow you home. all they say heads your way but never is it meant for you. like bubbles children try to snatch from july sky, it floats just close enough to delight then gone. every one of those conversations a soap slick residue atop your skin. nothing short of an unnatural phenomenon. so stick it out with that glassy smile of yours. no one dangles anything close enough that might crack it. 

'abditive' 

having the quality of hiding

#barflypoet

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‘and i know’

and i know

that you don't want

what i want 

anymore.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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‘approaching’

the moon approaching 

the transformation begins 

this beast now a wilder thing.

#barflypoet

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it’s nearly summer vacation so now what’s your excuse??

‘can’t stop me’

when i get the call

that my daughter’s school

is closing due to inclement weather

i stay up late

and drink like it’s the first day

of summer vacation. 

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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‘piggies’

and just like that

she makes her feet

home in my lap

says boy rub my piggies

i came a long way for your palms

well i never

had no market

now i’m stocking shelves

i wanna keep her fed and

i love her tongue in my mouth

so she tastes me inside out

and knows she no longer walks alone

and if my baby wants me

i’ll carry my baby home

i am home, i am home

for my baby

i am home, i am home

for my baby

and just like that

she steals my heart

away in her eyes

says boy always blind me

tired of moon now i need your sun

well i never

had no market

now i’m stocking shelves

i wanna keep her fed and

i love her tongue in my mouth

so she tastes me inside out

and knows she no longer walks alone

and if my baby wants me

i’ll carry my baby home

i am home, i am home

for my baby

i am home, i am home

for my baby

it’s time to lose my boots

the way she lost her shoes

i am home, i am home

for my baby

i am home, i am home

for my baby

and she is home, she is home

that’s my baby

she is home, she is home

that’s my baby

this is home, this is home

for us baby.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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the bottles, the empty bottles…

‘at 2am’

i'll put this as succinctly as i can: 

you treat me like shit.

disguise your shortcomings if you must 

(and you must)

preach the honor of your duty

(i no longer listen) 

the only role i have ever asked

is that you actually see me

instead you have left me wayward

twisting in restless sleep 

drowning in bottles;

i am not above saying

i have failed. 

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

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