and i walk through the graveyard with flowers in my hand
beneath a stormy sky grey with indifference
until i get to the grave where i buried our love
and i bow down at the tombstone and i lay down the flowers
and i look up to the sky uncracked even by the dead trees

there is a great silence to letting go of something that wasn’t terrible
there is a still lake hidden through the brush of the forest
and beneath that lake there is an entire climate breeding below
fishes swimming aimlessly and dead bodies turning into water
but still the lake is still

i can still see your face light up as i pushed through the crowd to you
i can still feel your warmth sleeping beside me
i can remember us mad and laughing beneath the buildings in Denver
and the songs

i will never forget the songs
they run through my head like wild horses on a carousel
each word relevant to the way that we were
each musical note a leaf stripped away from its embrace of its tree
swaying back and forth like dance steps as it falls to the ground
we swayed back and forth like dance steps as we fell to the ground
the eyes on eyes, the nails on skin, the fingers ran through hair
the moments of ecstasy hidden away from any kind of audience
away from cameras, never spoken from mouths, away from even poems
stuck now like record skips in the phonograph of my mind

we were constellations colliding in a meteor shower
and the blow from our crash was enough to light the cosmos
life born, children running rampant around the universe, and then
fading out like the end of a requiem

and you are not gone, not to me, tall heart
your electricity still runs up and down my spine
your blood still takes hostage my body
but i dug a hole in the ground
and i suppose i must lay in it

six feet of dirt above my head
i laid long nights beside you for an eternal minute
now i must lie without you through a frigid winter
my hands my own shovels
i bury myself with the same tools i used
to bury our love

i will miss you as much as i wanted you
i wish you to find the happy your heart hunts
i wander through the halls of my own heart now

but you and i
we will grow from separate graves like flowers
to bloom, you, red and radiating
me, blue and slithering like vines
and the world will cut us up from our roots
tie us up in string and call us a gift

someone will hold you in their arms
and walk you down an alley beneath stained glass windows
or maybe through a graveyard to place you on someone else’s grave
beneath a clear sky white with pure honesty
to sleep with them forever



you’re off in japan
with the giant cartoons and constant workflow
lost in the hustle and bustle of lines and railways
clinking bells and chaos noise symphonic

you’re off in san francisco
in a slanted city dizzy from the bicycles
burning through the silly traffic
stuck beside the bay
in a tower in chinatown where you drink
mai tais and study the gentrification of
dust below

you’re off in south south america
dancing on the edge of cape horn
hand in hand with a lover
your mind partially above frozen water
but so much more of your epileptic majesty
buried beneath
your hands reach for the south pole
as mine just reach out for you

you are lost amongst the redwoods
mourning the coming death of your loved one
you sit naked beside giants and you paint
with your fingers on the canvas in your lap
the trees don’t end until they get to heaven
you share the trees with heaven

you, stranger, are stuck in the madness of bangkok
the banging of pots and pans
guns, girls and ganja
massive heart attack motorcycle smog lady boy
mad mad madness
in transit from the sanity in your head
homeless and happy and we were so close to something

you are off in the void
the space between nothing and everything
the space between death and faith
fistful of pills
skull cracked against the bathroom tile
your book is still in the back of my car
we never finished our poem

you are out in the ether of the cosmos
you are dancing on trains with strange strangers
and cursing the dice that don’t roll sevens
it’s half past nine and you’re half past eleven
it’s pointless to try to write you

you are off somewhere strange
but you are still adamantly here in my heart
in my chest
in arapahoe county, colorado












(poem for a dying mall. (southwest plaza))

everything i’ve ever known
says i should dismiss you
as a silly capitalistic hub
but i can’t do that
i have known you for far too long
when i was a kid
we would visit you

there’s a strange fondness i feel
for the days i would spend hours suffering
beneath the toxic bright lights of the limited too
while my mom and sister shuffled endlessly
through the mass-produced neon clothes

there’s a strange fondness i feel
for pacing around the mall
with my pink-haired freshman girlfriend
eating a cherry-dipped dairy queen cone
and watching the kiosk employee
flying his plastic helicopter
by remote control
in the atrium of the mall

there’s a certain fondness i feel
about sneaking into spencer’s gift with friends
and pretending we weren’t just going
to laugh at the sex toys

you are not that impressive
and you never have been
but i have heard the muzak dying
i have watched
as stores with pulses
became white walls
you cannot lie to me
i can hear the heartbeat behind the plaster

i cannot watch anymore
as economic cancer eats away at your insides
commercial ebola mashes your insides
into one million parasitic cellphone case stores

your gold chandeliers have fallen
my sweet, sweet grandmother of a mall
we used to visit more often
but now we’ve just thrown you into a nursing home
and watched you suffer from a ghost town complex

there’s a strange fondness i feel
for the foreign workers at the sunglass stands
their cheeseball slicked back hair
and their desperation to sell you
overpriced sunglasses
you infected them with that desperation

it is never easy
to watch the past
slowly implode on itself

there’s a strange fondness i feel
to know that my father
a shoe salesman
paced daily so many times
by my mom’s work
before he had the courage
to ask her on a date
within you

the love that made me
the love that raised me
was born inside of you

some things don’t go slowly
and sentiment is a strange bird
that lands on whatever perch it cares to

you’re dying before my eyes
and i’m learning now
that you cannot mourn
what you’ve yet to lose



02.2013 is a twenty-eight day project chronicling my february of 2013 through poetry. to read the entries from the beginning CLICK HERE




(lifetime achievement award.)

thinking about
every single yes
i said no to

what the hell
just take the gifts of the night
and set them on fire
good work, kid
your integrity challenges me
your character is something
i can only aspire to
you stupid coward
you are afraid of being happy
are the something in the way
kurt cobain jr.

you keep placing love
on shelves
where you can’t reach it

you refuse
to talk to strangers

why yes, brice
you can
break your
own heart



02.2013 is a twenty-eight day project chronicling my february of 2013 through poetry. to read the entries from the beginning CLICK HERE



(puppy love.)

i remember standing beside you at the edge of the world
hand in hand you turned to me and said we should jump
i said i’m not one for suicide and you said it’s not suicide
it’s romantic.

you thought there was nothing more romantic than two lovers
choosing when and where and why and how they want to die

i was never afraid of heights nor commitment
but looking down on the jagged rocks below
the bubbling water crashing and the face of death
i realized in that moment i was afraid of both

and to think this was what i loved most about you
the way you dragged me through chaos
like a hand pulling me through a packed concert
to the front of the stage
where the music was so loud our ears bled
and the lights were so bright we went blind
but we were content to feel the vibrations
and our hands touching the feet of gods
you took your shirt off and threw it at them
standing there in your leopard-print bra i remembered
that you were never one to take anything seriously
your best and worst quality

one of those times you pulled too hard
and my arm came out of its socket
you dragged it around for hours
before you thought to look behind you
to see i was gone and i wasn’t just gone
i was walking in the opposite direction

it’s not addiction
how do you explain it?
you do something
and you do it
and you keep doing it
until it stops being fun
but with addiction you escape
with this
i just walked away
there were no withdrawal symptoms
like a cold haze
like that scene in Fargo
where everything is just white

i erased it all
the scratches on my back healed
i was no martyr
and you were no angel
we were just young and reckless
and in love
stupid love
puppy love
the kind that needs constant attention
and pisses on the floor when you’re not paying attention
and we left the door open
maybe intentionally
and it ran away

surprise, surprise



02.2013 is a twenty-eight day project chronicling my february of 2013 through poetry. to read the entries from the beginning CLICK HERE



Here’s one of my favorite love poems I’ve written. Give it a read. Happy Valentine’s Day.










(lovey dovey love love love.)

i love you so much
some nights i just stand outside your window
and watch you sleep
in the middle of winter

i love you so much
i have wired your entire house
just so i can hear every last word you speak
i love you so so much

there ain’t no mountain high enough
ain’t no valley low enough
ain’t no restraining order effect enough
from keeping me from getting to you, baby

i love you so much
that i slashed your car’s tires
just so you’d have to call in to work
and i could continue to watch you
from outside of your window
in the middle of winter

i love you so much
that i replaced all the mirrors in my house
with murals of you
that i made myself
my favorite one
is all of them

i love you so much, baby
that i have our kids name’s picked out already
i think we should name them fred and wilma
because you watch the flinstones alot
i’ve noticed
when i watch you
from outside of your window
in the middle of winter

it doesn’t mean a thing
that we’ve never spoken two words to each other
it doesn’t mean a thing
that your dad has kicked the shit out of me
true love conquers all

i love you so much
that i haven’t worked a normal job
in several months
i’ve been way too busy loving you baby
from outside of your window
in the middle of the night

you remind me of my mother

i love you so much
that i knitted these little sweaters
for all of your cats
all six of your cats
i can’t wait until all six of your cats
are all six of our cats
when do you want to get married?

i love you so much
that all i want for valentine’s day
is for you to lift this restraining order
so that i can knock on your door
and give you this giant teddy bear
and these dozen roses
and this box of chocolates
and this collection of seven thousand poems
that i have written for you
while standing outside of your window
at midnight
in the middle of winter



02.2013 is a twenty-eight day project chronicling my february of 2013 through poetry. to read the entries from the beginning CLICK HERE


I’m late again. I know. I’m a terrible person. We’ve had nothing but horrendous computer problems at home so I’m at the library now typing my 02.06 poem…



they kept the stones stacked properly
replaced any cracks with newer stronger ones
the moat was only dug deeper
and the ropes of the drawbridge
were always taught
unfrayed and prepared to open their door
to visitors

the prince and his sister, the princess
played together in their room
away from echoing yells down corridors
distorted and unfamiliar to innocent ears

the walls grew taller each day
the halls were repainted
and the flowers well-mended
the windows overlooked the mountains
massive and unflinching
but they crumbled each day
small bits of rock rolling into river

the king dressed regally
his gold polished his robes as neat
as the careful steps he took
through the palace alone
the queen was gorgeous
she grew older as do we all
but she grew better
her dresses flowed beautifully
she carried herself with the stature
of some great bird

and the king and the queen danced
in the ballroom alone
to the sound of the gramaphone
red curtains and waltzes
they danced til they were done

and when they were done
they looked at each other
dead in the eyes
and said i love you
and it was the last time they ever would

the castle was up-kept as well as it could be
no detail went un-missed
no imperfection went uncorrected
but sometimes decay just happens
from the inside out

nothing could save the kingdom
the empire of their love had simply vanished
a silent foreign enemy come in the night
stole the love they harvested like gold straw
the castle was hollow now
and the king and the queen
just the pages of a fairy tale

they closed the book
looked up from the pages
and had to find where they were
without the love
they thought they were promised forever


READ 02.07, DAY 7 OF THE 28 DAY 02.2013 PROJECT

02.2013 is a thirty day project chronicling my february of 2013 through poetry. to read the entries from the beginning CLICK HERE


02.01 jpeg

(moving day)

I have gutted the inside of my heart
Thrown out the dusty shit memories
And wrapped the fragile ones
In old newspaper
I separated heartache into a trash pile
And a donation pile
And I threw some guilt into the fireplace
To keep the place warm
Since the heat had been turned off

I packed up hope
And when there was room at the top of the box
I tossed in some doubt
To use the box to its full advantage
And I labeled the box
“Brice. Assorted nonsense.”

When we backed the truck in
Unlocked and lifted the door
The first thing we packed
Was my past
We spent a good half hour
Figuring out where to place my conviction
I wrapped the top
Of my glass emotions
With some packing tape
So they wouldn’t spill on my temper
And catch fire

I nearly broke my back
Lifting my self-esteem up the stairs
But a couple friends lended their hands
And of course
I paid them in beer

My awkwardness wasn’t heavy
It was just awkward

My dresser drawers were empty
So we filled them with some loose creativity
I didn’t really have anywhere else to put it

The drive to the new place was quiet
Except for the occasional sound from the back
I was a little worried my soul might have broken
When I heard something scratching
And a loud crash

But we lifted the door to the moving van
And sure enough everything was fine
My ego was a bit bruised
But I don’t know if that even happened
During the move

The new place was smaller
I had to put a good friendship in storage for now
But god
Someday when I’m wealthier
I mean wealthier wealthier
Not you know
Wealthier wealthier
I can’t wait to take it out
Find a place for it
Between my laughter and honesty
Maybe hang it above a mantel
Frame it in trust

We emptied the truck
Swept it pretty well
And took it back
And sure enough
Empty clean carpet
Became the callouses of my feet
White white walls
Broke into ribs of my rib cage
Grey dust and brick
Lit up like embers of my heart
Burning off the boxes we used
To move me somewhere else


READ 02.02, DAY 2 OF THE 02.2013 PROJECT


we were gathered around
the four of us
in standard party circle
beers in hand
when he interjected

“the hardest thing
i’ve ever had to do
is to deliver a flag
to my friends’ parents.
i had to stand there
straight faced
while i waited for them
to finish balling hysterically
when just days earlier
my friend had said to me
if i die
i want you to deliver
the flag to my parents.”

it came out of nowhere.
nothing prompted him
telling us this.
there was no rhyme
or reason
to it being entered into
the conversation
but i’m glad it was.

amongst the alcohol
and stupid balloons
the chit-chattering
and the laughter
all that laughter
we needed a moment
of truth.
a moment
of raw