Dear Mustache Man

dear mustache man

let me rest in peace without the phone’s ping

causing me to jump 

a fatigued fuck flying from loose, weary lips

say something other than a loaded question when I pick up

ask me what my crappiest moment is, ask what you can do for me

omit the lecture pronounced with porcupine prickliness


people will abandon you 

bad, too weak

soft mother, should have kicked your ass

lie more, chase women, hunt, fuck

be a lawyer 


 useful        writing


    stories my son 


I but  love you

  kick ass  

      your senseless dream


mustache man, let me create, 

a child’s awe, fitting words into spaces 

walking curvaceous country roads

discarding time like a Coors can

let me dance as the moon rises, with shadows and stardust 

mustache man

I’m not your gofer, consiglieri on call



yet I crippled you because I wouldn’t write letters of paternal praise

dictated by you

your truth malleable

and once I told you to kiss my ass

fusillades of fucks fired off

but my words exploded like the Hindenburg

naked shame splayed across the ground


did you expect me to break out into song and 

tap dance through rehearsed thank yous?

after all, each I love you is followed by a but


mustache man

let me rest

in deep lush dreamlands

creating, smiling, God forbid—-laughing

love me, hate me—- let me rest

let me have one song on the jukebox 

at the bar where you think I’m a drunk


let me dance, mustache man