What's Wrong with me?

What's wrong with me?
I’m hurting everyday.
My bones,
My back,
My fingers,
My legs,
My toes.
I walk different now.
I walk with a slight lean to the left.
When did that start?
What's wrong with me?
At times my head feels full of water.
I swear I can hear the water sloshing around.




What does that mean?
I sometimes start to limp on my right foot for no reason.
It just happens.
The other day I was driving through Santa Fe and I swear I felt like I was starting to float.





I stopped my car and pulled over next to a cactus.
The sun was laughing at me.
Taunting me.
I shook my fist at it like some kind of crazy loon.
I felt like those people that hang out in bus stations all night.
My god!
What's wrong with me?
So I got out of my car and still felt a bit weightless.
I thought I could shake it off.
Was it something I ate?
Something I drank?
How bout that new herbal enhancement drug I was taking?
Hummm…
Suddenly I started to rise.
I swear.
I started to…
Well…
Fly.
I rose up.
Straight up.
I wasn’t going side to side or straight ahead.
I just started to go up.
I thought about children walking home from school pointing up and asking a schoolmate.
“Whose that fat homeless guy in the sky?”



I thought about cars veering off the freeway crashing as people were trying to get a glimpse of me rising up higher and higher.
A Code red Stage 9 terrorist alert was sounded through the state.
Was I gonna fall?
Would I go into space?
Would I freeze to death?
I always thought flying would be cool.

But I always find a way to turn my dreams into nightmares.
What's wrong with me?

MONDAY MORNING

The rumbled and crumpled.
The arched backs ache..
Turned in on themselves sitting
At the oak bar.

Each look is a desperate scream.
A scream for survival in a cannibal world.

I’m sipping on my scotch
It’s 10am.
The morning broke in like a thug.
Smashing me in the head with a crow bar.

I watch Howard Dent the bar owner as he counts the till.
Each dollar, each red cent.
He trusts me.
His fingers are fat like hot dogs and the bills stick to his greasy fingers.
He has to shake some of them free.


He’s a large man. By me saying large I don’t me fat. I mean LARGE.
Fuckin fat ass.
Food runs away from him.


He knows me.

He lets me in before he opens.

Well along with a few others.

“Say, Harold what the fuck are you doing back here?”

He barks at me.
I smile.

I know to him this his way of saying.
"Nice to see ya."

“Where the fuck else would I go!”
I yell back.

“You fuckin smell!”
He snarls.

I laugh.

God I love Monday Mornings.

My Wedding Speech

How should this be said?
How many a time, a letter is written and spoken out loud to proclaim love.

So. I stop.
I stop and chose my words very carefully.
I stop and look at my life.
I look at my dreams.
I look at everything taking me here to this moment.
To this very second in my life with you all.

Each step in our lives changes our souls.
Every morning we wake.
Something is different.
Even if it’s something we can’t see, taste or smell.
Something has changed.
Something has crossed over.

For me.
Moments are stories.
Each change each new day is a story or a new script or short story.

But having all those moments all those thoughts and dreams alone.

Makes my soul feel empty.
For me sharing all those changes all those days with the one I love gives it all a new meaning.

For me it enriches my soul.
It fuels my art.
It challenges me.

I believe things happen in life for a reason.
That we all live on a plain of possibilities.
It’s just up to us to see those possibilities and strive for them.

When I met Kris I knew something was different about her.
Something stood out beyond anyone I had ever met.

She is the one that has captured my heart, my mind my soul.
She is the one that holds my dreams and future within her eyes.
She is the one that has made me see my world in a whole different way.
She is the one that I want to spend my life with.

Life just got even better.