Inner-stellar

Inner-stellar
JCD Kerwin

Bury my heart on Mars.

Dig a hole in a bright, red dune
and drop in my beating, dripping
heart.

Find Ray and tell him
he won’t be lonely
anymore.

Spread my broken fingers and toes
into the flowing, glowing Magellanic
Stream.

Find the end of the universe and
offer my eyes to the crushing, silent
blackness.

Toss me across the cosmos
so my soul might know
what it feels like to inhale, exhale
and explode.

[My tears mimic supernovas.]

(October, 2015)

Burnt Socks

abandoned Laundromat at Night 2008 Laurie Nix

Burnt Socks

JCD Kerwin

I lost a friend
today.
We were
in separate boxes,
never looking
at eachother.
We were
content to be
separate planets
orbiting suns
in opposite ends
of the galaxy.
We were
never meant
to be
anything more
than pennies and dimes
mixed in a vending machine,
lost in time
to be change for
some grass heads’ four-twenty munchies.
Yet I
still feel guilt
for letting you go,
even though
I  know
we would never have been
anything more
than two
mismatched socks
lost in the back
of some old
laundromat.

July 2015

Numb

Comfortably Numb by JohnKyo (DeviantArt)

Numb
JCD Kerwin

It’s 9 pm in July.
I hang my arm
out the car window
so I can feel
the cold so I
can feel something
other than me—
the humanity
of me.

I keep it there
until it numbs;
the feeling spreads
deep into my heart.
I smile;
thankful for
an emotion other than
depression.

I’m sick of
never-ending
existentialism.
I wish I could
wake up and become
a robot just like them.
At least then I wouldn’t
feel pain anymore;
I’d just feel nothing
at all.

(July 2015)

Rainbeats

There was jazz. And vodka. And the beginnings of a short story. Then this happened.

Rainbeats
JCD Kerwin

Take my heartbeats.
Take them with the raindrops
when they fall.

Keep them as they roll
off your black umbrella;
catch them in your palm,
and lay them on your lips
so that my soul may kiss
you once more.

Listen to the thunder;
imagine it’s my heart
exploding as it says,
“I love you,”
in ways words never can.

Imagine it is me
in the rain,
when you toss all night
in summer.
I will cool you with mist,
like it’s my fingertips,
and we are beneath the stars
again.

Take my heartbeats.
Take them with the raindrops
and forget about the sun.

June 2015

Three Bucks Out of Luck

Three Bucks Out of Luck
JCD Kerwin

I met God the other day,
on a Tuesday afternoon.
He was smoking French cigarettes
and drinking black coffee.
“What this meeting all about?”
I asked and sipped my own
liquefied Arabica beans.
“You’re right; you’re all damn fucked,
just like you thought you were.”
And then he laughed and put a pair of Oakleys
over two different colored eyes.
I watched him raise a pigeon from the dead
as he passed on down the sidewalk.
Once roadkill of taxis that didn’t give a damn,
now it bobbed and waddled in the muck
of our humanity.
“We’re all just fucked anyway.”
I played with the spoon on my saucer
and watched coffee droplets turn into constellations.
The Milky Way is only a figment of our imaginations—
Andromeda is one of a thousand daytrips we can take
anytime we’d like.
I tip the mug and watch the coffee pour.
I leave without paying because I know it doesn’t matter.
Three bucks and a dime aren’t worth a damn
when we’re all just fucked anyway.

June 2015