Solving the Puzzle - Stephen Dunn

I couldn’t make all the pieces fit,

so I threw one away.

No expectation of success now,

none of that worry.

The remaining pieces seemed

to seek their companions.

A design appeared.

I could see the connection

between the overgrown path

and the dark castle on the hill.

Something in the middle, though,

was missing.

It would have been important once.

I wouldn’t have been able to sleep

without it.

"I’m looking for something to scare me out of my skin" - Henry Rollins

I’m looking for something to scare me out of my skin

I’m following myself

Playing jokes on myself

Injecting myself with nightmares

I wait in dark corners to jump out and scare myself

I’ve got to get away from myself

THE MAN WHO NEVER LOSES HIS BALANCE - Stephen Dunn

He walks the high wire in his sleep.

The tent is blue, it is perpetual

afternoon. He is walking between

the open legs of his mother

and the grave. Always. The audience knows this

is out of their hands. The audience

is fathers whose kites are lost, children

who want to be terrified into joy.

He is so high above them, so capable

(with a single, calculated move)

of making them care for him

that he's sick of the risks

he never really takes.

The tent is blue. Outside is a world

that is blue. Inside him

a blueness that could crack

like china if he ever hit bottom.

Every performance, deep down,

he tries one real plunge

off to the side, where the net ends.

But it never ends.

"I was at this guy's house." - Henry Rollins

I was at this guy’s house. I met this girl who was hanging out

there. She was real pretty, she had brown eyes and dark hair. She

was soft-spoken and real nice. I know that everyone has their

own life and they can do what they want and you shouldn’t think

anything of it or anything. But man, I couldn’t help but flinch a

little when I saw all those needle marks in her arm, they looked

so sore. Hateful little holes. I wanted to say something, but I

didn’t.

"I want to take a screwdriver" - Henry Rollins

I want to take a screwdriver

Mutilate my face

Find a beautiful woman

Make her love me for what I am

Then say I don't need it and walk away

"I'm in the hot room again" - Henry Rollins

I'm in the hot room again

I am a time junkie

I am a user

Like all addicts, I come to the point where I ask myself

Who's using who

I take a look around and I see what I do

I look in the mirror and I see what it's doing to me

And I come to the conclusion that we got a pretty good thing going

Certain Choices - Richard Shelton

My friend, who was a heroin addict,

is dead and buried beneath trash

and broken bottles in a prison field.

He died, of course, because of the way

he lived. It wasn’t a very good way,

but it kept him alive. When it couldn’t

keep him alive any longer, it killed him.

Thoroughly and with great suffering.

After he had made certain choices,

there were no others available. That’s

the way it is with certain choices,

and we are faced with them so young.

I have few friends, and none of them

are replaceable. That’s the way it is

with friends. We make certain choices.