Garbage

I am tired. 
So fucking tired
Of sucking you
And fucking you
I can take out the garbage on my own.
You are no longer my home. 
If I had all the money in the world
I would buy nerves and guts
And a new dress
That would sway
And jump
And shout for joy
As you'd watch me walk away.
No longer tired. 
But so alive.

Terror

Terror
Alright, alright I’m coming out with my pants up and my hands in the air.
The chase stops here, lower your guns, and tone down your rhetoric of terror.
I knew what I was doing, seeking her out, sneaking her out of celibacy.
The victim in question has wounds that I need not clean.
The abused do not apply to me.
But now the crowds are talking, associating me with the sinful and guilty.
And I could ride out the storm on my pride alone,
But this fight’s not a fight worth fighting for.
So you win, I get it. I’ll drift back to solitude and search the open sea.
I hear there’s plenty of opportunity, if I just cast my bait out properly.
if I just stop stealing the catch of weaker men, stop my Danny Ocean tendencies.
Tylor Sherman

Glass

I never wanted to be Cinderella,
I am not that naive
those glass shoes could never hold me.
-Shannon Masayo



I'm sorry, I'm leaving.
I'm sorry, but you can't come with me.
You've made it clear; I'm the one you want.
But you're not the type to waste your time
pulling petals off of forget-me-nots.
You've had your fun, you're all grown up, and you need a little more.

This is my course, not yours.
One way ticket for a guilt trip.
Still, it's better to leave you on the shore,
than stranded on a sinking ship.

Nietzsche tells me I'm trained for war,
You're a warrior's recreation, and nothing more.
I'd fain disagree.
Because you bring out the best in me,
like sun-shine stained glass.
You make me brilliant, darling.
Now let me make you proud.
--Tylor Sherman


Glass


Clink, clink
Two small cubes drop into a stubby six-ounce glass
Twist, twist
His fingers turn the cap like a combination safe
Glug, glug
A liquor rope pours from a whiskey decanter
The aromatic complexities of a 1978 bourbon fill his nostrils
He cocks his head back and lets the sour mash well-up between his teeth and bottom lip
The dam of flesh and enamel breaks open, flooding his mouth with warmth
80-proof amber soup rolls around waking all the taste a tongue can possibly interpret
Swish, swish
It’s a goddamn flavor symphony
Each section of tongue delivering rich notes of oak, and grain
He smiles as he feels the satisfying warmth slide past the backside of his heart
He savors this moment
It’s that sensation right before you cum, and the cigarette afterwards rolled into one gratifying feeling
That’s how good it feels to him
Most people lack the dedication that he invests in his passion
Typically, people just rifle shots down their throats
They grimace and gag making fucked up faces
They want to get as drunk as possible as soon as possible
So they can be comfortable in their own skin
So they can sing, and dance, and fuck, and puke the night away
Rookies! Fucking Amateurs! He thinks aloud as he takes another swallow
But he, the gentlemen, has the experience required to enjoy the intricacies of a balanced liquor
He’s put in his time
He’s paid his dues
His dues have cost him everything
His six figure salary…gone
His family of four are a four- hour plane ride and forty- minute shuttle away
He is a bald, fat shell of the man he used to be
His life now measured in fifths and hangovers
Within the hour, his pressed wool slacks are strewn on the back of his filthy couch
His shirt collar popped open; his silk tie loosened several notches and drooping
He finds himself half naked staring in the bathroom mirror
Rubber arms prop the weight of his heavy torso above the vanity
He stands hovering, wobbling, watching his reflection cartwheel and distort
His mind starts reeling like a clutch refusing to grab a gear
“If only I hadn’t had that first drink”
“If only I hadn’t cheated on and beat my wife”
“If only I wasn’t me”
His final drunken thought before he crumples into a pathetic heap on the floor;
“ My glass has always been half full of something, tomorrow I will drain the glass and start again”


:)rYaN bAkEr (*)(*)

Coming Back

To anyone that gets some type of satisfaction from this blog, we are going to come back to posting words and more words. I'm (Tylor) pretty excited about it, considering how much has changed since the last time we were keeping up with the blog. Hopefully we can get something up at least once a week. It feels sort of silly saying this, but I mean it completely, thank you for reading this blog.
-Tylor

Reflection and Introspection

Curtain Call


This was written in 2006 and is one of my favorite pieces to this day.

And in enters the hero
The flood lights focus
The stage lights dim
Deliver your address
Reassure her she'll be saved
Make the audience tremble
Turn their skin to brail
Valiance always wins the crowd
Valiance always wins her heart
Captivated and subdued
The audience stares in silence
Beneath a sable shroud
Awaiting the final scene

And in enters the villain
Descending from a fiery pillar
The crowd gasps in unison
Face to face and toe to toe
Hero versus foe
Commence the final fight
Wide eyed spectators pray for the hero
But the villain is far too strong
He's down! He's down!
Oh God! they cry.
This can't be true!
Heroes never die!
The villain stands over his fallen foe
Where the hero lay waiting
For the victors final blow
But with a solitary spec of strength
He rises to his weary feet
He fights until his foe is down
He fights until his foes defeat

The crowd revels in gracious uproar
To the cliche Hollywood ending
Where good triumphs evil
Where debonair destroys the vile
And though we've seen it a hundred times
Its still our favorite drug
We'd hate to see the hero fail
And so we drink it up

Its almost time for curtain call
Where protagonists bow and curtsy
But let us not forget the love scene
For which our hero fought so proudly
The spot lights draw them close
Until they both meet center stage
Where they grapple like the links in chains
Where he softly serenades
And calmly whispers in her ear
That things will be all right
She cradles him in mantis fashion
While he holds her, corset tight
Her left leg lifts instinctively
And forms a right angle
Another scene from the silver screen
To keep the viewers tranquil
They're locked on in the perfect kiss
Perfected through recital
The heroes won, he seized the day
But he leaves us in denial
Cause as the lovers pull apart
She sees the blood rush from his heart
"Oh God! Oh No! She fiercely screams
As she sees the hole where his life is fleeing
"My love! My dear! You can't leave me!"
"You fought for me so gallantly!"
But the villains sword had found its mark
Deep within our heroes heart
"My love. My dear. I'll be with you."
"I wish these things I could undo,
but I'll wait for you on heaven's wall
until we both meet again at curtain call"

-Ryan Baker

Vultures. Liz.

Vultures.

The vultures are coming.
I can feel it.
And they will feed on what
is left of our love.
something we never made sacred.
I am on my way back to where I started,
on my knees.
But this time,
I will be praying.

-Shannon Masayo

Vultures

I am a corpse on the side of the road
A heap of baking death in the desert heat
Melting to the asphalt
Waiting for the vultures to pick me clean
To turn me into dental records and fingertips
No one will recognize me
Thank god
Cause I don’t want anyone to see what I’ve become
This place has sucked the life from me and left me for dead
God damned desert
You stole from me the life I loved
The high-noon vultures circle and start their slow descent
And I feel myself slip to the bottom of the food chain
I used to show such promise
Now all I am is well-done scavenger meat

-Ryan Baker

Vulture
I've had enough of his acidic touch.
He's a fucking vulture, picking at my scraps.
Yet you part your legs and part ways with progress...
I just have to laugh...what happened to ambition?
And what else is there to do when the killer is a victim?
No one should feel sorry for you.
We are both thieves,
One goes about it like a gentleman,
One does it for attention.
One needed you to believe
One needs you to feed.
You let this happen, you still do.
You both can go fuck yourselves.
There's always a fresher kill,
I won't look for love in a landfill.
You both can fly free and high,
because the best thing about simple beasts,
They eventually die.

-Tylor Sherman

Tender. for Vanessa.

Tender.

I used to have tender layers
unfolding.
I was a blossom
opening
and you were spring.
but it is summer now
and feeling a bit like hell.
I can sleep now.
And I feel like I am sewn to nothing.
those layers are more like
millions of white sheets,
suffocating.

-Shannon Masayo

Tender
I've been searching for the perfect way to share my city with you,
but mobile phone photos just don't do it justice,
so just fly out to the midwest,
and add a new chapter to your life.
It's a tender subject, but there's always an
open invitation for you to send your mail to my address,
and I'll clear cabinet space for your dishes.
They won't match anything I own,
but you can throw out a plate per day before I get home,
and I'll pretend I don't notice 'til my
hand-me-downs are all handed out.
We can share a bottle of wine and walk along the lake,
make our way downtown,
and get thrown out
of dive bars and dance with college kids,
I've done it once, I'll do it again.
With you, for you.
Life is simple when you're happy.
You wouldn't complicate a thing.

-Tylor Sherman