What a pity!

The tears of a king

crying over his crown

lost in tangible karma

gurgling a drown so

sticky, you go down

Bottoms up!

Downing hypocrisy

ingrained, this invisible belief

(you of all people

know the dangers)

And the hangover

Thanks to you

I learned the meaning of pity

and pity has long arms

and legs stretching far and above

It’s a pity I wasn't always this tall

Now I'm tall enough to see

you clearly drink

from the institutional

Equality (bullshit) faith

Two plus two equaled only

a stone wrapped in

a bill long enough

to pay the stone to say 'four'

You've confused math class

for milestone pity

pushing and I stayed

away because I grew

out of algebra class

where filling in graphite bubbles

never taught anyone how

to write their own theories

I live hypotheses

in your hand there’s still a stone

no quantity commensurates giving

and you still can’t do the math

These things in boxes

filling up boxes now

used to sit on shelves

and coffee tables

belonging to (housed by?)

this person you hate

and she leaves vodka bottles

and they leave rings from spills

on glass tops next to ash trays

bringing overnight guests

with wads of cash

by morning they always end up

on her bedside desk

(or so your dad accused

of her to her face—

he sounds great and

thanks for telling me

you had two great warnings)

where she licked the envelope

of your bill and fastened it around

a stone with a rubber band

and threw

Robot contradiction

She sits and stands

posts Instagram stories

mannequins have no stories

Boomerang is so unsettling

twitching unnaturally

robot repetition

and you loop about her

stuck in the same looping

ignorant of a cycle

a robot or maybe a dog on a wheel

Video or photo? A photo moving

Both boomerang confused

and confusing you cried

soporific, so predictably wet

Don't you know you're

reading lines from a script

already read and tossed?

Pity’s a sin, please honey

stop spinning before

my pity finds out

it’s the greatest destroyer  

It already cut you down, so high up

and this power, the height of giants

you only read about in mythology

Pity always looks down

I wouldn't smile if a frown always followed

A flash and a paycheck

and selling her soul

for fashioning touchy hands

and touching pointy fingers

to a clay face

baked and glazed

hands on your leather couch

reaching through cologned spliff smoke

hands for someone else's belt

and belt loop jingling with none other

than your old house key on a chain

Probably the only fight

Ever for a chain

but two pit bulls trained

to kill want winner's pride--

Did you ever question the obvious contradiction of self-diagnosed fame?

Or were you too busy with his punch

to see your key on his belt chain already?

I know in front of the house she and you shared

the ground probably hurt

You both still can’t share

and she still gets off to the sound of his fist on your face

your fist with a phone ringing the police

(What a mess!) then me

"I should have listened to you"

I pity the sound

and pity anoints me a crown

Next time you'll listen

my dear kingdomless king