This Is How We Do Business: I am Tired

Lorem Ipsum

Net Junkie

Facebook quizzes help me get through the day

sometimes they take up most of the day and

tell me that my heart is purple so I am creative

or that I am Wolverine or that I am sexually

French or that I am like like Mexican food

which is true dude and sometimes they are

just totally wrong, and I sing a little song

in the comments section about that and how I

wish these people would learn to spell check

Jack or get off the pills or something and then

I take another one even though there is work

to be done and I wonder why I bother but

it is electronic crack and I keep doing it

and I drink and chat with women I

barely know and then I take another quiz

or maybe a whiz once in awhile, and then

I take another quiz and another one that asks

what sexual position I am and it tells me that

I am a cowgirl and that reminds me of

an old joke about riding her from behind

then whispering her sister's name in her

ear and trying to hold on while she tries

to kill you and that makes me chuckle

to myself and grin again for a minute and then

I go to living social and I pick five things I can

reach from where I am sitting and they are

a cup of coffee, an axe, a knife, my computer

and my cellphone and I pick five places I've lived

and they are California, Colorado, Florida, Nebraska,

and Washington and I comment that Nebraska really sucks

and then I go do another quiz and then I pick five

vacation spots and flirt with this chick in New York

and then I do another quiz and then I check my email

again because some students might be asking for

clarification or something and then I do a quiz

about what infectious disease I am and then

I find out that I am the Black Plague which is

apropos and then I comment that I am thinking

about moving to China and then I smoke another

cigarette and have another drink and think that

I really have to write that poem soon and then

I take another quiz, and maybe a whiz

Lorem

In my backyard, in the morning, in the Spring.

In my backyard I sit

in a swivel chair and hear

the birds of spring

chirping and trilling

in the morning and look

at the crimson maple from Japan

that we planted last year

and think of other places

and other years

gone past or yet to come

in which I have heard or will hear

the birds in spring for no reason

in particular, but they always remind me

that life is fleeting

and flying by me with no great success

and my heart is dying of

love and cigarettes, and my children

growing up and up and soon

will go away, but the sun is shining

down into my yard on this spring day

and the grass is greening and

the flowers blooming

in beds and on the trees

and in the mornings

my soul yearns to be free

of all the burdens that age

has brought to me but I

have few regrets

though my life is pointless and

I'm burdened by more debts to

gods and men than I can shake my dick at

so I just tilt my hat back and

look at that red maple

and listen to the birds while

the morning sun beats down and

takes away the chill of the night before

and I light another cigarette

and write about the things I see

near and far from me

while I sit in my backyard

in the morning in the spring.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

I am Tired

James D. Dyer

Dr. Jesse Wolfe

Writing Poetry

Spring 2009

I'm tired

I'm tired of trying to fit in

to a man shaped hole

of people who obey without

questioning the way

things are, and I'm tired of

putting up with the day

to day bullshit that results

from the nature of the shitstem

and I'm tired of taking the blame

for things that were decided before

I was born and I'm tired of the war

inside myself and I'm tired of trying

to be something I'm not, and I'm tired

of holding the shot and hoping the other

guy will back down. Fuck them in their shoes

I'm tired of singing the blues all the time

and I'm tired of following the rules just because

there is no way to beat the odds and I'm tired

of the way things are, and I'm tired of staying out of bars

and I'm tired of the things that I eat because

the people I live with have no taste and I'm tired

of going to waste in a country that can't respect a tree

or a mountain or a stream and I'm tired of the way things have always been

and I'm tired of the words they say, the words that make us all this way

and I'm tired of the places I've been and I'm tired of being told sex is sin

and I'm tired of the bitches who bitch about men and I'm tired of the dicks

that bitch about women and I'm tired of living this way I'm tired of not being free

to live the way I choose without having to sing the blues all the time and I'm tired

of needing a rhyme or a reason for being who I am and I'm tired of paying taxes

and I'm tired of settling my feuds with words instead of axes there is no satisfaction

involved in being human anymore I'm tired of watching what I say and I'm tired of everyday politics

and I'm tired of all your bullshit and I'm tired of having to lie just to keep the peace and I'm tired of all the people I can't reach and I'm tired of the things they say and I'm tired of terror and I'm tired of war

and I was hoping that life would be interesting and I got what I hoped for but I am tired of the results of that wish and I just wish I had a way out that didn't involve dying and I'm tired of crying out the hours

of the day and I'm tired of the same things being said every day and I am getting angrier every minute

that I stay in this place and I don't know how to face the day and I'm tired of feeling this way and I am tired of the swine flu and I'm tired of me and you and I am just fucking tired so kiss my ass and go to heaven I couldn't roll seven or eleven to save my life I'm tired of all this strife and I'm tired of life in general but I still live and I ain't gonna quit so somebody kill me if you can but I'll bet my life you can't so I'm stuck here and I'll live and die like a man.

Lorem Ipsum

The seed of men

You see I have before me, upon the table now,

a darkening seed, more clamshaped than round.

Around its rim it has a running line of black,

and lighter colors highlight it, along a virtual crack

To some you see it would be trash

a thing to chuck, to burn to ash, or to throw away

but I hold it cause it holds me luck, and love potentially

I know not just what it is, not ash, nor oak or pine.

It ain't no beech, nor willow tree, this seed, this seed of mine.

I do not know just what it is, but tis a good example

tis polished to a high degree also, by the ample

cradling, in me pocket, hand, and pillow

this seed, this seed of mine, not oak, or ash, nor willow.

This seed I use it to describe, the nature of a thing—

of essays, and sealing wax, cannibals, and kings.

Because you see I tell them, not oft', but now'again

I really don'know just what it is, and that's what makes me grin

to myself and think, I do not know if my eye

is telling me the the truth today, or yet another lie

as it often has before, what ya think s'truth or lie

I ask, once we have kicked open that door.

I sometimes find I'm not suprisesd, but rather floored,

by the things that some believe will make them better men,

the same by the things they think iniquity and sin.

So I look down at the floor, rub my seed and grin,

and think, it's no suprise y'all, from smaller seeds come men.

Lorem Ipsum

Lorem

Saturday, May 2, 2009

I am Tired

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