January 2005 / Volume VI / Issue I
Cliff Coats


Iím an asshole
An insensitive, uncaring living piece of shit...
In short Iím a human

I have a wonderful bride
Ask anyone who knows her, theyíll tell you I donít deserve her
Not by a half

She keeps me alive
truly keeps the roof over our heads
food on our plates

I spend all day writing
Hoping to make something worthwhile
Worth all her hard work

I toil away all day between my ears
With nothing but words to show for it

Just words
Nothing a room full of monkeys
couldnít paste together

And here in this I have the gall to be a human
And loose my temper
A temper that will one day kill me, holding a numb left arm

Nothing to be mad about so I concoct one
It is what I do

Writing is imagining
and so is jumping to conclusions and latching ahold of them

Somewhere in my dark subconscious
I pull bullshit and raise my voice
Caught up in my rage I ramble
And my voice rises to a scream
Vein popping euphoric, throat tearing song of my youth

Like I said Iím an asshole
And she cries