donate blood

i can’t help but wonder about my ex-girlfriends sometimes
i wonder how big their wings have gotten or how small their horns
i wonder what existential epiphanies i didn’t get to experience
and i wonder what coals i didn’t have to cross for them

i run into past loves occasionally
it’s always interesting
that unspoken conversation you have
your bodies never forget each other
your eyes never stop staring at each other
but neither of you are the same person

they say we regenerate every cell in our bodies
over the course of seven years
what does that leave us to be?
what words would we say over coffee
flipping through pictures of strangers in phones
reminiscing about the things we once hated about each other
that are gone now

if you’ve ever watched a balloon float off into the sky
and followed it until you couldn’t see it anymore
imagining it hovering into orbit
past satellites and unidentified flying objects
you know how it feels to truly let go
to realize you are just an old radio song
to realize that mountains were once oceans
but first that bitter sting

like a needle piercing skin

never forget
donate blood

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

nonbreathing

kids
it’s a social jungle out there
and you’re gonna realize that
just about everyone has an opinion about
how you are supposed to live your life
it is a trillion dollar industry making clever suggestions
of what you should throw into the void

what will you throw into the void?
a beautiful house? a committed husband?
a church on fire? a pet goldfish? a novel?
(haha) a white picket fence? a god complex?
a poem?

there have gotta be so many poems
just floating around in the void

but kids
point is
you can play the game
make every correct step
and all the right connections
you can say all the right things
and follow the blueprint to the tee
but you are chasing insatiability
you can chase insatiability
but you’ll never stop
my suggestion
in laymen’s terms
is don’t give a fuck

clarification necessary on that one
don’t give a fuck
um
just decide what you want to do
and go
give it everything
run into this house on fire
and grab whatever is most valuable to you
and if you’re gonna be selfish
trust me, the world is gonna find a way
to let you know
nice people sleep better
i’d bet my life on it

and somedays will be lost to nothing
but not really
there’s a reason composers mark rests
we breathe in and out
but i don’t understand why there’s no name
for the pause inbetween the two

nonbreathing
yeah let’s call it nonbreathing

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

GERONIMO

he lived in his car over the winter
he was a point on the grid but far from the line of best fit
he never let anyone else pay
he looked like he hadn’t eat for days
but he always had an unhealthy bundle of generosity in his wallet
he stepped on every single sidewalk crack
he bummed cigarettes from everybody constantly
and no matter how stressed he got
no matter how much the veins in his skull bulged
he always refused to smoke an american spirit

he was a smoker
like some people are hipsters
or gutterpunks or catholics
he was a smoker
that was his defining factor
the way he would drain a 100
as if that was the whole point of the exercise
he kicked dirt wherever there was dirt to be kicked
he questioned the stars
he yelled fuck you! to the stars
fuck you moon!
fuck you space!
he was at war with humanity
he never won

he slept on the light rail
he slept behind mutiny now
of course he smoked while he slept
but it was one giant motion for him
there was no ritual
you just went until you couldn’t anymore
and that you crashed til you woke
sometimes he’d just fall off the face of the earth
it made you worry about him the first couple times

when he spoke from the heart
he was like a shithead fairy godmother

he never existed
if he did i didn’t know him
but he has a lot of shitty qualities
that i wish that i had
the end.

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015

TOMATO

there is a hole in the heart
sure
but it’s less of a gravel pit
and more of a dark star
internally endless
worlds and cities
fall in
the eyes of lovers
fall in
the benzadrine-driven
scrolls of philosophy
fall in
suns are born and die
within it
and in its space
is patient nothingness
waiting to be filled
with chaotic structure
or structured chaos

well
okay
yeah yeah
same difference
tomato tomahto

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2015