xboston-beansx

I cannot, cannot be like my parents, Sickly content with their average lives. And though my choices seem incoherent, To be truly unique, one has to strive. So I dyed my hair and I pierced my nose Because my mom and father told me no. I must be sure my independence shows So I don't end up old, playing Bunco. No white picket fence and 2.5 kids. No average job in an office for me. No Tupperware parties where we trade lids. That just is not who I'll grow up to be. And so, to prevent this terrible fate, I'll smoke cigarettes and stay out too late.

Spin the bottle round and round, Careful not to make a sound. If that tip stops next to me, It's anywhere I'd rather be. Don't know why I'm even here. Spinning, spinning, sick with fear. Dreading that disgusted face When the bottle picks its place. The bottle stops and I hear laughter Echoing forever after. Sure enough, it's facing me. Tears well up and I can't see. The spinner sighs like life is tough. Lucky for him, I've had enough. I step away from where they sit. "This game is dumb," I say, "I quit." The condemned spinner cracks a smile; I've saved him for a little while. And as I head off down the stairs, It's as thoug

You must lay back and float on bubble dreams That will swoop and swell and will burst and pop Then sink, sink deep down into swift streams That lead to the falls on the mountaintop. Steer your stiff canoe through the hazy blue To emerge at the shore of the green sea. Swish your fins as the goldfishes do With the scaly tail that goes just past your knee. When the fire moves with a dance and a lick, You will know you've reached the heavenly sun So prepare yourself for a roundhouse kick And the knock the embers out one by one. Then once you've returned by way of thunder To the cozy place where you do slumber, Remember to wiggle out

A small, Bulbous fish Clambers upwards. Desperate fins Energetically struggling, Flailing spastically. Giggle water Hardly suits Itty-bitty Jelly-bellied Kite-finned fish Like him. Maybe I Need to Omit whiskey, Port, and Quaint alcohol from Racy experiments Such as These. My Ugly guppy, Vaguely discouraged, Wobbles toward Xylophone music and Yodeling Germans. Zany, yes. (But I think I'm getting somewhere.)

A Bubble Clings Desperately to me before its Escape is Forced upon it. Gently ascending Higher and higher, It dances through a Jellyfish forest, and a Kelp colony, Lingering only for stuttering Moments before Nodding away again. Overhead, I see Pufferfish, lugging themselves around, Quivering schools passing Rapidly So as to not disturb. Temper does not become the pufferfish, Undulating, obese, scaly creature. Very few have angered one and lived. Winners in these hectic battles may be limited to X-Ray fish and see-through sea-folk-- Yin of the Yin-Yang of the ocean, Zen place that it is.

"Are you sure this is okay with him?" I asked, uncertain. "Him?" The doctor paused. "Well, I never thought to ask him. But, well... We'll just say he was fine with it, alright?" "You know, I may not have much of a conscience, but something about taking someone's body and using it to contain my soul strikes me as a bit... immoral." The doctor raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you wanted me to help you." "I know, but I--" "You can't stay here on Earth if you don't have a body. Don't you want to see your precious girlfriend again?" "Well, yes, but--" "What's the matter? You don't think she'll know it's you? You can rest assured, my d

They weren't quite right, a slight off-white Not as I remembered, like the previous were dismembered I was scared. I wanted to leave. Looking down from such a height A speck on the skylight They weren't quite right, a different shade of yellow More like canary than a weak buttered popcorn They should have been smooth like candle wax They just weren't right.

Zoom in to the mouth, see the enamel A sea of white Foam at the edge of a wave Leaking down the chin Catching in the hairs of my beard Washing away the traces of lunch My tongue creeps out the pinkish crevice And snags a bit of old bologna

The rose on the wall Will creep and will crawl It never will fall The plate on the table Is really quite able To make it more stable We'll creep and we'll crawl We never will fall We're really quite able To make it more stable To make it more stable It's really quite able The plate on the table It never will fall Will creep and will crawl The rose on the wall

A severed heart that has no beat is cold. It whimpers in the night, a lonely hue, Pumping only tragic stories to be told. The ragged soul that long ago was new Could not stay strong through heartbreak's lonely hours. It whimpers in the night, a lonely hue. While love is thought to give one special powers, That happiness was sapped through bitter tears, Not staying strong through heartbreak's lonely hours. Now this stone heart is overcome with fears Of wandering alone in this harsh world. Its happiness sapped through cold, bitter tears. Into the tempest, this sweet soul was hurled, Beaten by the great waves of Yesterday, Of Wande

 I woke with a shout, sweat running into my eyes. Sucking in great gusts of air, I glanced at the clock, and fell back to my bed, still shaking. 3:13 a.m. and I was more awake than I had been all day yesterday. Sweat began to mingle with frightened tears, bittersweet and salty brine. I curled up on my side and ran my fingers through my hair, snagging on sleep-knots and bringing even more tears. My teeth instinctively sank into my lower lip, trying to somehow ease and rationalize my state of being. Small sobs tried to slip out between my lips, faltering and only half-succeeding. My thoughts raced back to what I had just witnessed, or, worse, c