The immaculate deception.

When you can't be convinced
 everything's all right.
Despite your faith
your stomach tells you
you're fucking up
your bank statement agrees.
The line between being gentle
and losing control
a tightrope walk
 falling is easier.
 its not gymnastics class
 there's no foam pit.
The pavement- merciless
and your bones- soft.
 I was laying on the floor
when I saw me
Jumping off a skyscraper.
Then the Gold Star Bridge.
I wasn't scared.
I was doing backflips and shit.
I have 100$
To last me until Thursday.
Fuck.

Poker Face?

We played for spare change

over drinks and dessert.

Full of cannoli and defeat

I sipped my espresso

and waited

for the lucky hand

that would make me victorious.

I bluffed.

My stacks of nickels dwindled

and then became extinct.

I concede.

I don't mind losing

its an opportunity to practice

unattachment

to the hand

I've been dealt.

Tofu; Pros and Cons.....Just sayin'

As a fairly inconsistent vegetarian, I'm torn on the issue of Soy.  A staple of non-meat eaters, soy products have both a good and a bad rap.  Shall we explore my oversimplified list of Tofu pros and cons?

Pros:
1. That superior feeling you get when everyone else at your table is ordering flesh (How barbaric).
2.  Its a complete protein (has all of the essential amino acids our bodies require). My trainer is always hassling me on the protein.  
3.  It reportedly can  lower HDL (bad cholesterol) if eaten regularly.  AKA it cancels out Doritos.
4.  Has more calcium than dairy products. Moooooooo
5. Isoflavones- apparently act as an estrogen in females- which helps fight certain cancers.
6. Cheap.

Cons:
1. Only tastes good fried.
2. Texture is somewhat spongy.
3.  Unless it is organic its likely to be genetically modified- no bueno.  Even organic is not perfect.
4.  Its cheap because of the way it is grown- which has an adverse effect on the environment- read Michael Pollan's book "The Omnivore's Dilemma."
5.  Effect on the Thyroid- possible endocrine disruptor.
6.  Isoflavones- you'll start acting like a bitch.
7. It's a common IgG allergen...which means you may not know you are sensitive to it

My verdict- OK in moderation.

I used to....

Steal my dad's Newports,

and my mom's socks.

Have a rock tumbler,

and polish mad rocks.

Imagine what I'd look like

when I was a sixteen.

Stay up all night

(with/ without caffeine).

Eat Pop Tarts for breakfast,

skip school/drive around.

Play kickball and house

on the GH Playground.

Love the smell of the library,

and my mom's perfume.

Hate being grounded

to my room.

Wait for my superpowers

to magically manifest.

Something I didn't know,

that I always possessed.

Its like music to my brain.

Downloaded a loaded soundtrack.

 of some songs I remember liking.

Like that night he couldn't stop laughing

 and I kissed his best friend.

Distraction is concentration

 on something else.

 Something more poetic.

 Default thought pathways

designed to coax action potentials

 down the messianic neurons

 leading to liberation.

Sequestered from  the separateness

that is the subconscious.

Merging is metamorphosis

masterfully materialized.

Memories mature

in the medulla oblongata

and wait to resurface

for the perfect moment.

Like now.

Do this in memory of me.

A flood of emotions and a senseless phone call prompted me to expel these thoughts through my pink painted fingers.  I'm not sure why I called.  Especially because my nervous system reacted to the thought with supersonic quickness and let me know to be extra cautious.  Instant nausea and tachycardia. Every cell in my body remembered and reacted.  I wondered why I was holding so much resentment.  I guess I wanted to have a conversation that would make me remember you differently.   A conversation that would make my heart feel light again when I think of you, not like I just got the life knocked out of me with Pai-Mei's 5 Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique. I realize that this is a matter of my perception and it has nothing to do with earthly conversation between AT&T and Verizon Towers.  I conjecture that there's really no need for verbal communication between us.  Our predilection was transmission through the subtle body.  Broadcasting signals from the heart center.  Green light.  Go. 

Blue on Black.

Sometimes it just happens driving home from work. A blues song will come on rxp (New York's rock experience) and it sounds familiar enough for me to turn it up a little bit. The the memories come like an exploding volcano of my subconscious. Stand up CD player. Lake house. Motorcycle. Pain. Within about 45 seconds I'm crying. My heart is so wide open that the lava is excruciating- splattering over the most sympathetic part of me. You're still here but part of you is gone. The torment of knowing someday you'll die. And the pain will be exponentially agonizing. I'm saved when the song is over. Commercials and I'm home.