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Joseph Pinto, the barflypoet

Joseph Pinto, the barflypoet

By Joseph Pinto

poetry written from the inside of bars served raw and unedited from the moment crafted.

...drinkin' proofs and writin' truths...
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Joseph Pinto, the barflypoetMar 21, 2023

00:00
00:50
she's just angry

she's just angry

and this is why i love writing from bars.

i think i need to go on tour…

 

‘she’s just angry’

 

cries:

he used me

he took all the best

i was.

 

she sucks angry on her cigarette

the way she sucked angry

on his dick.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto



Jun 01, 202300:14
avoidance

avoidance

moments are few but here is my one…

 

‘avoidance’

 

mother and father took the tines to my eyes but never time to soothe my tongue and so much of my embryo goes unanswered like why did i grow into who i am and why do i see now what i’ve been blind to before and who the fuck nourished me when most obviously my bloodlines ran thin? i am not yours and clearly i am so wayward how could i ever put forth a signal to be heard? generations ensuing my cells will never know the pliancy of my flesh but my daughter keeps the consistency of who i am and for that reason alone i stay present in all my moments no matter how they crush me. 


'avoidance' 

an action of emptying, 

vacating or clearing away


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto

May 31, 202300:42
monachopsis

monachopsis

perfectly whole yet not quite together…

 

‘monachopsis’

 

a thousand interlocking pieces yet none hold the smooth to slip me in. a shape with projection i seem to push the mass away. even if we lock would i ever want to conform to your spatial monotony? i hear what you’re saying but it’s falling on deaf ears. you want me here but a path leads from the sash i’ve left open. inch turned to gap. the draft never turned your head to notice so neither will the guilt when i move on. it’s a pretty picture when all comes together. there’s a hole in the middle rendering it obsolete. 


'monachopsis'

 the subtle yet persistent

feeling of being out of place


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto



May 24, 202300:43
death no matter

death no matter

‘death no matter’

 

these people

they think i die to drink

no, no friends

 

i drink to die.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto


May 23, 202300:12
playbill

playbill

do you stay well after the curtain drops…?

 

‘playbill’

 

fifth act. we find our protagonist once fool now hanged man center stage and all unfolding behind eyes does so unaware of severed cords to facial expression and while heart trembles worrisomely to outcomes beyond measure he’ll suspend expectation and keep forever his surrender

 

waiting. 


'playbill'

a poster announcing a theatrical performance 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto

May 18, 202300:27
beacon

beacon

where are the fresh voices and deliveries?

why is so much presented for the eyes

and not crafted from the heart?

 

‘beacon’

 

we live in a world

of posers and followers

desperate for the

free and brave

to liberate us

from all the shit. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto


May 16, 202300:10
band-aid, she always uses a band-aid

band-aid, she always uses a band-aid

he’s interesting—

he’s well-traveled

he’s a musician on weekends

he’s single

but he’s not my type.

 

i listen to her words

and shake my head sadly

knowing she’ll find a reason

to take him up on a night out. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto



May 12, 202300:26
assassin

assassin

looking thru the glass. and seeing nothing…

 

‘assassin’

 

something’s swimming in my snifter that shouldn’t be. maybe part of a bug or yet another piece of myself i’ve been forced to swallow and now repeats in untimely fashion like when i want to forget the knife holes in my back. usually i ignore all leaking down my spine but it’s hard when all i want to really say goes whistling through. i’m sure if i had you alone you’d see i’ve crossed your name off from my list. a concise unshaking line that speaks of cold-blooded laces knotted to shoes walking on. the rich irony to be mocked as boy who conjures things he can’t see when quite clearly here you are holding conversation with a ghost. when next i greet you, and you, and you, i’ll glide untethered and true in the knowing a single shot took me out and into peace. until then i’ll knock back this booze and ignore the defineless particles which once i may have been but surely now no more. 

 

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto


May 10, 202301:11
yes isn't always the answer

yes isn't always the answer

you figure things out the hard way…

 

‘yes isn’t always the answer’

 

yes isn't always the answer

i couldn't figure out 

what he meant

but it became clearer

after several shots of irish whiskey

 

look, sometimes you have to grow balls

and stick up for yourself

be a man and not some compliant pussy

that rolls over to your woman.

 

he suddenly got a text from his wife

and hurried home.

 

i poured whiskey down my throat 

stumbled in at 4am

walked into walls

pissed in the sink

and caught holy hell.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

*

www.etsy.com/shop/JosephPinto


May 04, 202300:39
gallimaufry

gallimaufry

and here hanging is a wardrobe of uncertainty…

 

‘gallimaufry’

 

here, there, you left your face and if only i knew which expression belonged. eyes constantly turning, mouth always churning and one nail is not enough to raise you up and into light. there’s a plastic to your condition that doesn’t agree under the ridges of my fingertips. i can’t collect you any longer. i can’t listen to the fabrication of your syllables mimicking the drop of my lids. i can’t take that drawl of a head nod pretending you understand each turn of a day brings about another how did it go wrong. i’d brush you a thousand different ways if i had the color. i’d hide you a million more with cover. so tell me how to navigate hours when i can’t steer minutes thru storms. drywall prepared with neat holes of precision and the decision of which facade to pull down is a tortuous one. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


 


May 02, 202300:60
change of scenery

change of scenery

'change of scenery'

 

shoulders slumped

he left his house

 

there his posture straightened 

along with his optimism. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Apr 27, 202300:10
muffin

muffin

'muffin'

 

it’s the kind of wind that runs through your house like an intolerable child bored from their mind, the kind of wind that brings about pause and makes you question all the warmth you’ve allowed to escape from your life. the kind of wind that pairs best with chili because like you it comes together in a mess. i love you, she says, and you know it’s only because she’s devoted to separating your thoughts from your head. outside the boughs frown like the curvature of your body, bagged atop the mattress like a baker’s dozen, growing day by day stale. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


muffin:

 

a small soft cake baked in a cup shaped container  

Apr 26, 202300:38
trampoline

trampoline

‘trampoline’

 

clear sky thins the smoke from the eyes but exasperation dries the slick out from the tongue. no piecing together of clever words can ever detract from the lines you hurl and cool cheeks betray bleats of a mourning heart. higher and higher you’re always at it say you’ll stop just like an addict keep me down as long as you rise up. on and on you’re so dramatic flip the script it’s your bad habit here’s the blame you’ll only pass the buck. and you go up. and i go gone gone and you go up. and i go gone gone and you go up. and i go gone gone gone.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


trampoline:

 

a resilient sheet or web (as of nylon)

supported by springs in a metal frame

and used as a springboard in tumbling

Apr 19, 202300:46
words like ghosts

words like ghosts

‘words like ghosts’

 

'go live your life,

she told him.

 

but he didn’t know how

without her. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Apr 18, 202300:11
tiger

tiger

but who ever listens..?


'tiger'

 

caution! do not put fingers or hands into the cage! yet you fail to heed the warning time and time again. it cannot help if you now lack the necessary digits to pound your discriminatory reports under its eyes or the common sense to keep from worming back into its head. incessant you ignored the cue from its rollbacked ears and still you brandish the nerve to curse the beast when it is only wont to do beast things. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Apr 04, 202300:31
proof

proof

just leave the bottle…

 

‘proof’

 

weakness from an old injury. the broke breaks deeper than the disobedience of soul to bone. i’ve oft tried to mend myself with white cocktail napkins and while catching the spill they could never wipe the mess. there’s not much left but a photograph of us along michigan avenue. who knows if heaven exists but something beyond our capacity to reason raised our lips skyward that day and if you think i don’t still feel the phantom of your hands when pleasuring myself then what of life have i left? in this worn-out bar silhouettes throw back with punch line violence and here i am still sipping the cadence of your shoes. you’ll always be in my vision but i order one more just to spite my face. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Mar 21, 202300:50
obvious metaphor

obvious metaphor

‘obvious metaphor’


though pretty

the dandelions

choke and

kill the


lawn.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Mar 17, 202300:09
appreciation

appreciation

‘appreciation’


a devil’s deal

for love


heart freely ripped

gnarled vines replacing

fruitless


eyes rust weeping

emaciated clouds

sun refuge


shovel,

he handed


break soil,

he spoke,


only now can you appreciate drought.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Mar 09, 202300:29
lorn

lorn

'lorn'

good god almighty, you widen my eyes with clandestine grandeur, salve my tongue as vessel to your unknowable ways…only to rob me lost of true fervor, my faith upon my knees before eternal night, pregnant above my ashen countenance in bedeviling possibilities?

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Mar 07, 202300:21
lacuna

lacuna

'lacuna'

still waiting here, a blue without horizon, an awful gale without wind to blow. your name about the corners in reflective manifestations, none the direction from where we came. keeping the posture when the rain falls teeming down, the realization tread water means one has since drowned. and when the sun dries the sodden mess it leaves me feeling worse. at best. no more skipping puddles or reimagined clouds with a picket fence. hands fill the pockets but nothing overflows my heart the way your hip once anointed seamlessly along mine. the passerby give no note to the stoic man with westward eyes, homeward.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Feb 22, 202300:49
euthanasia

euthanasia

'euthanasia'

recognition, spoken through your eyes. i heard you and maybe someday someone will hear me too. years spent like seconds. i woke before ready. a long walk before i tied my shoes. spirit moves along without care to pack and even slipping you filled my arms with more than they could hold. i want you back i want you back i want you back. there’s no rushing from the house early mornings anymore. no burst of light greeting me through the door.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Jan 31, 202300:40
whelve

whelve

'whelve'

my father kept many tools i never knew how to use. little boy hands still feel little boy in adult bones. remarkably he transferred his sins into the soil of all my pores but to this day i can’t fix a thing. when he moved on i took his toolbox heavy as all the burdens he never spoke a word of and just as cool. in a side room off from my basement he waits to be mended but i’ve closed him to the dark. i can smell his curses mushrooming like smoke from diesel stacks and his words linger longer than summer did when i was six. loose screws require the perfect twist but all falls apart when stripped. he’d call me useless in those bursts of deflection and dutifully my eyes fell to the dirt under my nails. i’m sorely scrubbed now and the irony is i no longer feel under my fingertips. the apple falls no farther from the tree nor does a bent angle lean from its foundation. i pound with fury all that no longer fits foregoing his wrenches. round holes don’t accept five knuckles but i’ve the flayed skin to prove that’s not fucking true at all.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Jan 18, 202301:23
pernoctation

pernoctation

‘pernoctation’

another then another more. so much time elapsed yet you’re home in all my minutes spent. there’s no keeping glass from lips the way i can’t alter your cells from my bones. another dark eve of legs’ serenade and what can i say i’m rubbed the wrong way by my angel’s promise of our dissolution of silence. i’ll wear this floor thin, your voice and the songs i loop for you commanding my head. the house nor the crickets rearrange their patterning to my noise and that’s when i suffer in plain sight and no one knows. how can i sleep hoping this night might be the one, how can i collapse within myself when i have never stopped collapsing into you. my phone a tombstone yet i believe the dead can rise again. another then another more. these pours measure the distance between reality and a lie. i suppose that’s why so much of what i drink lingers under my tongue. upon death it is said we repeat into which we expended our energy most. so i am destined an eternity of blurred vision and vesper’s chafing across skin, uneven footing dragging the chains of devotion. fear the haunting ghost but most disregard the damned cupping a flame with conceptionless hands.

#barflypoet 

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Jan 11, 202301:27
pneumatophany

pneumatophany

'pneumatophany'

there are five stages to grief and i’ve got two hands, ten fingers. wiggle them fast enough and it’s goodbye. i told my mother i had died. she said that’s nice and went about vacuuming the living from the room. from that point i didn’t trouble her to share the news. you have all scraped the value from my existence like burnt edges from toast anyway. pass something through flame and it’s either transformed or destroyed. why then do you pity the ashes while the new chassis denied? i didn’t ask for this deliverance into the light i was thrust any more than i’d begged to be heard over her old electrolux. decades later and those floors are no cleaner. now here we are. mother won’t answer my call from the other side so on the rare instance i visit i am mindful to keep my charred appearance as not to scare her.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Dec 13, 202201:06
sciamachy

sciamachy

'sciamachy'

and will we be? and will we be? and will we be? and what will we be, aside the nothing we are. round and round slaughtering the sheep and perhaps i’d sleep had not blood steeped this bed. sliver of moon about the only thing cutting this head open to rationale. settle in, and down, and dream, guides say from beyond the veil and i would had they left instruction. instead crickets rub their legs with a scratch above more than i can bear and punches thrown across the wall go ducked. i want you cast from head to heart and wondering when will we be us leaves me fucked beyond recognition. i never asked to meet you but you came thundering in and like lightning flashed out. so how do i go on when every step illuminates another path you’re not found? why the weight worn when my soul holds your love in a state of buoyancy? punch the bully first and don’t stop i was taught and yet have i kept my brain from spinning. constellations perforate ruminations and for a slow moment something so far away falls down across my fingertips.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Nov 29, 202201:25
corps

corps

'corps'

it’s never been about the good you have said but the supportive you haven’t. frayed on the inside, the diligence of tying ribbons round ribs like souls lost to war and never coming home. you wouldn’t know a thing of my patriotism in the teeth of your heavy fire. pockmarked soul the price of incoming shells and i’ll no longer be the outgoing saint i’d been. somewhere in those fields the mewl for momma while dulled surgeons and scissors fumble to cut the cord. you have failed me in such epic proportions future generations will hold my limbs and say here, the ancient man turned to slug. i drag this sack of meat before you desperate you’ll smell the rot but i am recipient only of that karmic reducing perfume of yours. ignorance never took such a fragrant path to my nose. so come holidays we’ll speak of imaginary storm fronts that threaten you worse than the notion your child wanders the front line geared in little more than dulled eyes. leave no man behind but quite obviously you forgot the boy.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Nov 17, 202201:14
thermal

thermal

'thermal'

between nest and sky you caught me at my weakest. advantageous you kept a suggestive mouth. cunning i filled it where the living no longer walk or speak and i despised the taste of myself whenever we kissed. you nourished my irresoluteness until fragility took to your words. i harbored resentment even as i worshipped your breasts. you never understood the rational that migratory and delusionary patterning would take me away. entertaining your flawed notion that all raised remains home, i sucked down your toting love and spat it back your way. never was i your baby boy. never i the sparkle in your eye. i flew the coop and you couldn’t cope. no longer one with your air, this chick you thought now a hawk. i circle and circle above while you believe me prey to the currents. i’ve a way to lull with outstretched wings as the blue sky disguises my intentions.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Nov 10, 202201:14
ya'aburnee

ya'aburnee

'ya’ aburnee'

over and over, forced into me. be. just be. know no hour. no day. slip moments over your head like a well-worn sweater. i stand with no comfort. passing seconds make me feel no better. so dug soil percolates through my nose and here i know i will rest. eventually. your face shimmers in a glass in a palm in a mouth and all i cannot speak repeats from my gut through my heart out my soul again. i am dying without you witness to my withering. i suppose it’s all well off. animals expire alone. bones married back to earth. maybe i’m speeding the process but if you’re not coming back what’s left to wait. i’ll forgo the streamers and banners should the almighty grade my papers before yours. only an open hand bringing you home should you be so inclined. a table for two made in unassuming fashion, origami as centerpiece and my whiskey glass replaced by a bowl of milk for your cat.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Nov 03, 202201:18
ma'goa

ma'goa

'ma’goa'

morning carries an inching mustiness from the eve before like a secreted child. hand in hand, i walk you to school. the cool dew has slicked the leaves and i’ve care where to step. merrily you chatter on and on, the waking blue jay only more resolute than you to be heard. a glaring bright the moon slipping from full and it seems so misplaced but your knowing palm becomes my sun. we cross the street together cause you’re so small the cars so fast and what needs slowing fled me when you were born. you’ve grown thinking you need assistance when it’s been the other way around. kiss and you’re gone, string bean legs the way of stalk and i pray the kingdom you find will stay yours forever. veins and complexions under foot and though strong of heart i fear my seasons near expiration. i turn so quickly. short walk to the door but i can move on. and on. eventually i’ll become a lunar ray and when you seek mysteries i’ll be the answer. illuminating your autumn with gentle notions.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Oct 26, 202201:16
drumsticks

drumsticks

'drumsticks'

clear-eyed from the distance but obviously you’ve not looked quite close enough. machine gun rat-a-tat-tat marring my whites like crows stealing ahead of october night. your words still catch my lungs and not even the waking wisps from neighbors’ chimneys can clear them out. slow or fast, my feet keep the rhythm of your pounding, a redundancy without regard to the resistance of massage from fingertips to sole once shoes kick away. and there they lay on the floor, my favorite pair and my bones, all untied and sideways and waiting for something more than space to fill them. my soles are tired from wandering and my soul aches from a redundancy without regard to the nuances of triage etiquettecies. hung like damocles your insistence you’ve known me all along. it’s not your song the same but the two beat you play. for now we keep windows wide before what warmth remains the chill takes. somewhere someone burns the foliage and that makes the score marks along my ribs hurt just a little bit more.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Oct 20, 202201:11
cortisone

cortisone

'cortisone'

reflected in the glint, your face especially longer than the expanse of which i am used. hold still, big pinch coming and if ever in the history of understatements was there such a grander lie then i am at a loss. once upon another lifetime ago, my parents bought me a dog until mother decided she could not handle eyes imploring for care and so stage right exit left went dog and up across my face a new space for tragedy and cheap plastic acceptance. luckily i hid eyes imploring answers behind cheap plastic acceptance cause i was a good kid and did good kid things like keeping the big kid’s conscious clean. hold still, big pinch coming but the fib is muffled under cloth the way the fast one was cast across my vision. problem is i am keen to tricksters now. and in a silvery flash the breadth of your ignorance drives through my joint. i am told this will cease the release of molecules that cause inflammation but when i plead for a stake through the skull the doctor pushes a shaking voice before retreating legs and declares my mental health might do good with a pet.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Oct 11, 202201:16
helicopter

helicopter

'helicopter'

i must have lift. i must have a force moving me upward. but i’ve lacked it all, and all my life, the reminder of it a steady beat within my chest. whoomp whoomp whoomp whoomp i imagine a parade, a marching band, endless columns of feet with gum-stained soles and taut lips that should be smiling. i should be smiling, had i ever been taken to a parade, had my soles ever been allowed the mileage to step in gum. it rakes my ribs now, a prisoner with a tin cup and no matter the pleas for leniency or a sip to quench the fire, i am sentenced to life for the oversight of others. whoomp whoomp whoomp whoomp and all i’ve ever fancied, all i’ve ever tricked myself into believing could be mine suspended right there above my heart, breaths away from severing attachments if only the cuts could be so neat. a fascination so many believe my shit is together when the truth is it stinks. every morsel ever force fed has yet passed through me and god help everyone once it does. staring into and through the glass until then, i sometimes allow my mind to drift to the rat-a-tat-tat of drums and how my keds would’ve tapped if i’d only heard them.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Oct 04, 202201:25
mirror

mirror

i've been reflecting on a good many things lately. so although i wrote this a year ago, this is as good a place to pick up where i left off as any...

'mirror'

lately you’re the only one i turn to for truth. it’s not as often as i’m sure you’d like but it’s something and something counts. so many things get in my way and yeah you’ll say i’ll make excuses for hours. funny i know what’s coming spat from your throat and that makes it harder. but you’ve a way of waving your pungi and all the snakes i’ve got coiled inside start to rise. i’ll sink my fangs into you if i’ve the chance and i know you know that too. healer in your heart while from my mouth destroyer. it’s no trick of light. no matter how we turn we turn and lose each other. i need the best from you the way you need the worst of me. the one relationship i can show up in all my glory and still you’ve not walked. yet you’ve the reasons. how can you bear to stand there and watch me mask my gut-eating demons? i mean, i know you know i drank those fiends down all weekend (and beyond). you’re the only one i turn to but it gets sadder every time. grey has turned to snow and the grimace you cast somehow colder. i blinked one day and then my friend still you were there but older. eyes a darker shade of grave. i may have buried you once or thrice before but only one of us has realized the ticket has been punched. 

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Sep 27, 202201:32
ghostcore

ghostcore

'ghostcore'

it’s you and me and all left never said expired between us. it’s the drinks reanimating the fringe of lips and the abnegation that makes me drink them down. it’s the cool side of your cheek and the smart flash through mine. once i could raise the past without it haunting us. now it seems shadows stick where no wind blows. you persist spring buds from your tongue while the periwinkle signals my stay of sentence. destitute of vision i cry smoke, smoke but when have you ever stood close enough to feel my fire? what moves me most? i cast the spade more times than i could bear and even then you cheapened my toil with plastic flowers. pay the bill as if considerate but it’s only meant to keep your debt from growing. another martini never hurt me none while it only assures the erasure of your memory.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Aug 03, 202200:60
billiards

billiards

'billiards'

first error, believing my guise of patience to be a coat of acceptance. there’s a rack hung in my closet smelling of cover’s mistakenly judged and bargain buys. hey if it fits you wear it and i wear it worn without posture. from corners i see you circling like a shark. i might be bleeding but i’ve yet bled out. call me twisted but i’m head over heels with the notion you believe you call the shots. oh babe you carry the big stick and that’s well and fine because the words i set up perfectly will never reach you anyway. collision of wills a sharp crack much like the tearing of my meniscus, an awful sort of reverberation through the flesh signaling that all is definitely not alright. and so we careen and to the lazy eye we are spheres, plummeting, burning up but i prefer to think we probe signals like lost satellites. your loops tighten the table and i know you’re searching an angle to put me away for good. so like you to overlook my sense of fashion for while you think you’ve dressed me down i’ve pulled the wool over your eyes and as i go screaming into darkness you can bet sure as shit i’m taking you with me.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jul 26, 202201:16
anslutning

anslutning

'anslutning'

chitter chatter i’ve no part of and a mainstream bearing no inclusivity to my name. there where the paint hides flaws i find solace, side-skipping the shallower crevices into which my eyes won’t get lost. appearances are a thing so it makes sense now why certain fabrics scratched my skin. i hated layers but hated even more the peeling of self. downward glances and shut out all that other stuff like you’ll grow up and out of it one day. what if you don’t grow up and out of it one day? what if you find yourself at a table without inquiry or care of your latest digressions and the smile carried is like freight lost of its port. valuable riches never delivered. sometimes one must question if one will ever be a want. wall upon countless wall has been left wet with my dripping expression and for once i wish there’d be a handprint left in the paint.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jul 14, 202201:07
closet

closet

'closet'

today i am not quite sure what to wear so i will slip indifference over my head. it’s ill-fitting, yet another reminder i’ve put off discarding things i’ve so overgrown. all goes black as it crosses my eyes and if there’s anything the years have taught me it’s that it still squeezes around the neck. how i love to flash it before you, so garish, so proud. sadly it’s one of the few feats afforded that brings about the instant sterilization of my space. you’re so outdated, you are wont to say, forgetting all the things that santa brings are clearly not my style. from the gallows dead limbs hang hollow of intention, tags still dangling, testament through no fault of their own that fervent hearts require touch and more than just a swathing.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jul 07, 202200:55
understanding

understanding

'understanding'

what you do with it is on you, i don’t give a fuck either way, i can’t polish the platter any brighter or embed it into your dna because your bones lack my matter. and why should it factor it comes delivered lacking white gloves when a bourboned tongue does just fine. true, i’ve won no points for style but i’ve always been one for neat palms and dirty knuckles. my father left his backhand imprinted upon my youth and so i aged fearing nothing. though as god is my witness i prayed for the buckle instead. i’m sorry you’re deciphering now all i never said but the bloody trail leading down the hall surely should have tipped you off that a wounded animal stalked this house and when cornered it would bare its teeth.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jun 28, 202200:49
appeal

appeal

'appeal'

snap your eyes shut. open. keep me in that briefest of moments between peace and mottled dark. a luminous lulling that all is okay when it is not. my fingers full now until the winds empty the lot to which i’ve clutched. free picking for crows once bones lose their shelter, the clicking you hear my joints pointing the way. to where as lights descending, to where as distance grows. snap my eyes shut. open. i lose skin like seasons and raked as fast. demeanor a bridge between turn of notions and colors slash. my prometheus raging and all is okay as it burns smokeless and lucid.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jun 07, 202200:46
asomatous

asomatous

'asomatous'

beset by shapes of smoke i drift through, above, beyond. twisted such as rope my hands, knots. all i touch, drifts, drifting. inside out i, open, spills, spilling backward to self. secrets like dogs e’er faithful waiting for walk, and walked, ne’er collared. sshh, angels talk, where, where trumpets blare in quiescent hearts of which no such beats ears know. grand void beckons, beckoning while apparitions of sham turn heads

oh, was he ne’er e’er there?

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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May 17, 202201:10
dishwasher

dishwasher

'dishwasher'

some things require a sponge, some elbow grease and a good scrubbing. some things just find a way to pile up. take the dishes in this sink, for example. crusted over by food i never tasted. isn’t it a shame you took all that time to prepare a meal but not the care to season? presentation like a pageant queen but a poison pill upon the table. sure the meat is the perfect temperature but my flesh is still raw. you deny wrongdoing yet the well laid track of my shoes out the door says otherwise. and that’s the kicker. cheap food i buy on the run tastes like a temple’s bounty while what you cook from the heart eviscerates mine. we share trivialities before the hanging god into whom i place devout attention. reward for my conviction the napkins into which i wipe clean our discord. i suppose it’s not so bad. i’ve a roof over my head, calories in my stomach and a knife i’ve been sharpening. understand, mind you, i dutifully say thank you for dinner but require the honed blade to scrape the bullshit from the surface. i know i chew every morsel like it’s my last but i push the essence of you to the side. ninety-eight cents short of a happy meal, i force a smile and say that’s delicious as the basin overflows with chipped disks ready to topple.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


May 10, 202201:29
abscond

abscond

'abscond'

before your eyes, a snifter, a bottle, long draw from the neck, disparaging swallows so the expenditure of your vowels won’t dry your throat as bad, i’ve beat you to the punch, turned my insides inside out, you’ve nothing to invade but the invasion of self and know that violent clash within the recycling bin won’t carry my resonance, shatter like that of halloween bones and tricked twice as bad but the mask deflects the shards and yet leaves a sliver slit for further ingestion.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Apr 26, 202200:33
golgotha

golgotha

'golgotha'

i knew you came to slay me. my tarot spoke such. across my altar i fanned your volatile air but my guides would not yet snuff our death. there, across our timeline, i finally recognized my flogging, the crown of dissolution upon my brow. stripped of all sincerity i once bestowed you, we marched parade to illusive golgotha. you hung me there between your present and past chimeras, denied me grief wetting wine. broke not legs but my chest. callous to nails, i endured only the betrayment of the reed. your final spear of silence did not matter then. already had i awoken. risen with blood eyes. and now you gaze sideways not to notice but i am there.

when your lids blink in seismic misconjecture.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Apr 14, 202201:04
ledge

ledge

'ledge'

like a cool glass of water providing relief from the bowels of august, i can never get enough of that breeze bathing my skin so intimately unlike the callousness of your hands. throw up the sash and it’s all right there beyond me. the escape, the relief, the utter end. my father once scaled a step stool with such a haunted look in his eyes. four feet to the floor but he teetered changing that lightbulb as if standing tippytoed in the teeth of everest’s upper troposphere. i get it now. he didn’t fear the height or looking down. he regretted the lack of elevation to drop. i see your palms in my mind as your mouth drones on and on. i see the air between them filling the space my body never touched. the density of my feet snaps me back around. and the breath of the wind across my cheek, beckoning me forward, a mistress of wisp with stolen hours cradled in her arms. throw up the sash and it’s all right there beyond me. narrow precipice dividing the veil between this life and where i belong. i never saw my father change another lightbulb. much like him now, i keep my eyes hidden in the dark.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Mar 29, 202201:26
clothespin

clothespin

'clothespin'

they’d dangle like tragic tightrope walkers, splintery legs hooked onto the line, random breeze adding decadence to the danger before my eyes. would they drop and fall, these solitaire risk-takers, for what else destined would be their way? with knobby knuckles grandma added to the heart-stopping spectacle, digging deep into a stained cloth pouch, adding in number the precarious daredevils. held always captive their show mesmerized, though it meant the small wooden graveyard scattered beneath the smoldering august grass would grow by one, perhaps another more. i loved when grandma did and aired the wash. i loved inhaling the sheets and clothes even more, the redolence of sky so rich up into my nose that i ignored the death zest crawling like awful spiders up toward the windows whenever grandpa mowed the lawn.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Mar 22, 202200:58
control

control

'control'

squeeze squeeze a little tighter, so the collar constricts and so do we without tender. what swells beneath skin, a rhythmic denial in need of appeasement and release, so what wounds deeper, the vessel or the tongue. the safe word, we are one, but are we

really

squeeze squeeze a little further, so the trust turns blood-eyed and so do we without splendor. what tears paper-thin, the liberation from judgment and dark alleyed enclosure, so what exhausts quicker, the carousel or the collapsed lung. the fail word, we have this, but do we

ever..


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Mar 15, 202200:46
gasoline

gasoline

'gasoline'


the hard stuff will of course power your throat but strip your gut. you think i joke until you meet the burly irish lads with bludgeoned noses where the red rivers run through and laughter chokes the horse. pressed against momma’s teat, they surely didn’t believe life finds a way of circling back again. but it does. from swollen nipples to the neck of a leaking vice, no matter race or creed, what you draw between lips manifests to source and so chased thereafter. don’t judge the hilarity until you realize we are all born to die and how else can we applaud the effort of trying aside from cauterizing all which will eventually escape from us anyway.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Mar 09, 202200:44
susurrus

susurrus

susurrus

that’s the rub, i hear nothing of you inside this cacophony head. a coward would ask where have you gone but a valiant knight would fall upon his sword. there you go eviscerating my heart before it tastes blade. somewhere in town the 6:30 train gallops without its mount but that was nineteen minutes ago. i’d have paid attention had i not been stemming the blood from my chest. i stink of charred sausage from a nearby grill while licking the remnants of a healthier diet from my fingertips. luckily cheap booze cauterizes all wounds but turns the stomach inside out. you’re down my shirt and in my mind and only one washes easier than the other. my neighbors enjoy the music i play when i’m outside but not the sounds i retch. it’s easier to apologize than tell them i’m waiting upon a voice from the dead. is there anyone aboard that train missing their station, poised to celebrate the whoosh of fresh air? i’m asked if i need food while politely stumbling away, declining my neighbor’s suggestion i might need more than the vacant stare upon which i fill myself while drinking on my patio.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Feb 23, 202201:19
feast

feast

feast

the plates have more space at the table now, the bellies more food to be fed. take the extra chair back to the basement. i filled it with air anyhow. my absence will be spoken of now until christmas but i gave the early gift of self back and the easy truth is i love me more than you. this hurt has been aging unlike the depth of wine you drink. you skimped the wallet while i nurtured the vine and now that i’ve grown to season i’ll never allow you to take my vintage away. you’ve the cushion of elbow room but i’ve the expansion to grow. i’m grateful for every one of you, don’t take this the wrong way, no matter how truthful the anger sounds. but when the beacon beckons one must go. the soul has transitioned and it’s only a matter of time until my body finds home. slather the white meat with gravy so it won’t stick in your throat. this thanksgiving alone i’ll swallow the clear of my booze with ease.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Feb 16, 202201:01
legerdemain

legerdemain

legerdemain

slowly circling, slowly circling, tongue flicking out, flicking in, fringes of my cheek an old tasseled rug and syllables whistling through it like kettle steam, don’t leave, don’t leave us, air rushes from the hole through which you hooked me, i am hushed, our vision kept close to vest, blush of our promise fled your breast, what’s left, fast-fingered my heart your palm to next, i am left guessing an illusionary conjuring before my eyes while faith gathers necessary branches to withstand another long night alone inside my ribs.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Feb 14, 202200:42
iridescent

iridescent

iridescent

before your eyes, i share nothing, hint nor glimmer, merely a manipulation, a twisted play of your own perception. believe me weak? i am weak. think me raw? i’ll soak your laces in all i spill. strike the chords your ears will hear. pluck the strings your core responds. understand i have gamed you on a lustrous level, blinded you to such point into the seat of my palm unawares. crush you? such as i choose. cup your own luminous? surely, if only i’d not evolved in darkness.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Feb 01, 202200:46
sewer

sewer

sewer

again it is taxed by the latest deluge. this whirlpool of muck and debris and oppression has spun downhill for years. my throat iron oxide like the grill created to hold it back. hold it back, hold it back (please hold it back). it’s those sliver words and dismissive exasperations that find their way through the rungs. surely it will pass. the storm always does. still the oily residue of expiratory pledges grows fiercer to scrub from the nubs. full of flippancy you let fall from your fingertips, there comes an awful gurgle from the center of my core. choked of all you no longer find useful, my limitations rise against myself and once more i am full up in your shit. your laughter like a skipping sun from behind clouds. the leaves a lazy drip atop street. it’s all over now but no matter how you distance yourself, your stench is always one with my skin.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jan 28, 202201:06
countertop

countertop

countertop

dark surfaces don’t reveal the mess. her own words, crumbled in their staleness and left again to redirect my demeanor. i mean, can you believe her? the unfortunate answer yes. roiled within thunder, there has always been someone to rob the fork from my tongue. lashless and listless, anger withdraws and i stand like a beach with no tide. her lips churn about a better season but the seashell to my head echoes lie.

so take the spray and wipe it.

and i do with clear eyes hiding a dirty handprint pressed upon the cloth.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jan 26, 202200:43
luncheonette

luncheonette

luncheonette

above and behind, an angel welcomes me in a cheap tinny din. am i dead, dying or somewhere between, like the sugar crusted counter before me and the residue of your sweet in my heart. my lungs sizzle with bacon fat and it’s a good thing because i’ve not much left of you to breathe in anymore. there’s a red stool and red nails carry a red-rimmed mug away and in my head i count the times the ghost of those lips grimaced when cooling the lie. who am i and where have you gone and why are the napkin cocooned knives so blunt? eventually shuffling forward, i take fate into shaking hands. your last gasp comes not accompanied with a movie reel of your greatest hits but atop a menu keen on choking the life force from your veins. this, the hell surely i earned but the impalpable angel once again clears its miserly throat and two old souls part the veil, fingers entwined. measuring my own, i realize sluggishly you still mar my gnarled emptiness. taught over and over breakfast is the most important meal of the day, i’ve lived famished on a diet of hope and silent ringtones and your wide eyes like the broken yolks of sunny-side up eggs but you’ve always hated eggs and it’s always killed me you’ve been so broken but i’ll love you like my last cup of coffee and you’ll stain my teeth twice as bad.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jan 19, 202201:32
sirenize

sirenize

sirenize

a sea, a sea of freckles and it is between them i wish to trace your mythology through my tongue, to bring forth your sparkle the way you cast out all my dark. fingers dabbling in the wet i leave behind and if you and i have a name by then we’ll reimagine ourselves a thousand times. unhurried revolutions i will part your sphere of flesh and take you to a depth of essence you never thought you’d find. be mine. i want to gaze upon you nightly and know something in this great expanse makes sense and is all for me.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Jan 11, 202200:41
apple

apple

apple

what does your sleeve feel like? i imagine it must be so warm. autumn flashes her teeth and you hide your arms under layers, so when i bare my vulnerabilities why do you not take the same care? wine tasting like all couples do this time of year except i’m five fingers short of holding your hand. you’re fawning over nuances lathering your tongue and i’ve got jesus christ and blood in my mouth and neither blesses me save the sunglasses secreting my eyes and a checklist of varietals into which we feign our interest as we have done nearly every day spent together. laugh it off, it’s okay, we’ll wash our hands the way we rinse our throats of grapes but i fear we are thinner than those cups keeping sparse water and my pant legs are still damp from eight seasons ago (when i started counting). within me there is a flesh so ripe and tender that you’ve allowed to sit atop the counter until the worm got to its core. i see only my face at the bottom of this glass, not your eyes i am void of or that fuzzy sweater i wish you’d rub me across to remind me i still shine.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Dec 09, 202101:17
steak

steak

steak

i take it, masticate between jaws until temples throb and consternation leaks between teeth, and still the nerve of you there, hard like rock that knows no footfall, memory woken to you but gone the way smoke from flame, chew and chew and chew while throat beseeches relief from the fire valley, and something dies in order to serve so you char the guilt and fat and all semblance of sense from the rebuttals resting on the block, and my mouth should water but my eyes cry over excessive vowels and grill time. a napkin waits not so far away as i nod compliantly, desiring to discard you into linen bowels, but i’m full of sinew and leather and the thought you can kill anything that moves.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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Dec 01, 202100:48
philocaly

philocaly

philocaly

i know november by the way wet leaves fill my ribs and how a sinking sun takes more than it gives and when that dark funnel of crows goes churning i dream i’m their last center spark of bright before sweep of day flees. eyes set shallower in my head than before and while there’s no shame admitting my door slowly shuts i prefer to think i’m transitioning. the cynic points out the false show at my feet and sure all has collapsed but where else has the end seemed so sublime. it’s like my insides have turned out and i’m kicking bones instead of stones in search of something irrefutable in whatever i might leave behind. finally found and with a new wind gone, gone. only venus is sage enough to figure i don’t belong here. yet here i return.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Nov 24, 202100:59
trauma

trauma

trauma

when i didn’t like it, i’d cross it out, when it didn’t go my way i’d scribble it a hundred times until self tore and the pen fell through, smeared smiles and rehearsed lines and i’d be alright cause mom said i’d grow out of it, well now i’m up and out and fallen into something else, they all believe i’m alright as evidenced by the ascending notches along my height chart, i pleaded until coke turned to sprite, why worry my parents with carcinogenics stalking the gums when i could pass silently reading the scars on flipped hands, don’t fret your pretty head or stagger that fleeing footfall of pity asunder, i’ve chosen ink over poison now, it leaves quite the mess, i pray you’ll recover my notebooks once i’ve moved on, the guilt of many many missing sheets corroding your teeth like the soft guidance and kool-aid you forced on me as a kid when all i asked for was the clarity of a glass of water.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Nov 17, 202100:59
serotinal

serotinal

serotinal

the warmth flees above my head on two wings and an itinerary i’m left to question. was hope held steady-handed or burst breathlessly through the gate secure in the knowledge i’d not be boarding. stuck up my nose the stench of fresh cut grass but no one seems to grieve these corpses. oh, they’ll come back, so the blade makes it painless and easy to wait on what has been taken to fill back in. days expire quicker now, this turn of my heart more prickled than before. but i’ve long sleeves in case faith dips at night along with the common sense to realize my bourbon and booze will not run out quicker than you have. this pocket of charm i sit in, full of rubbing legs and soulful beaks, does its best to remind me it will all be just fine. and who am i to question their wisdom. so i raise my snifter first to air then to this awful nothing that’s been nesting my chest. i swear even the leaves turn their backs to my eyes now. deep within what moves me, i know a bleak winter awaits. another sip, another more. i close my lids to the jets i am not aboard and the slow rounding logic shorn things sometimes grow back greater.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Nov 10, 202101:25
boardwalk

boardwalk

boardwalk

slowly i say goodbye to summer, to the sheen of sun slipping down limbs and to hopeful magenta brushstrokes across september sky, whimsical reminders we can find our way back. so it begs to be asked back to what, the sparkle and glimmer of your mind, the lazy low tide of your thoughts or the shoals that keep secrets begging to be gathered before the fickle moon employs its pull. if you were a shell i’d hold you to my ear and wait until you collapsed into my name like you used to do. but we’re both split between personalities and circumstance and veils and truth be told i’m nearing my thinnest. i want you spread across me like sunscreen. i want you atop me like tan into my pores. it hurts that just as your fingers drag along my burning notions you turn jack frost again. as if i haven’t suffered long enough i now dread the same slow turning of the leaves. it seems a long time ago i was handed three darts for five dollars to go win a prize. now still with the taste of vanilla ice cream and warm waffles spun like a ferris wheel at the back of my throat, i can watch the season shift coldly away and you can go on throwing holes into my heart for free.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Oct 29, 202101:25
grievous

grievous

grievous

steady hands but the keener eye spots the tremble straight off. there’s no shame in a spot of liquid courage. the fallacy is that it keeps muscles from reverberating. truth is it rids the shit from the stench of giving less than anything that was ever returned. to some degree i love you all but you’ve given me nothing worth collecting save for painful life lessons and a bitter aftertaste from the karma leaked down from my head. i won’t miss any of you. there’s crumpled photographs and empty envelopes and christmases full of sitting at a table feeling i was april fools. clearly it explains why i chose rabbit holes to stain my palms and took comfort against the dismissive cool of a bottle. comfort finds you through the seduction of understanding, which is why a whore will win your world with a smile and a priest hurries along her last moan of redemption. there is something nothing short of utter anguish knowing i’ll pass on some day one half of my whole while no one remotely close to me ever recognized a fraction to the sum of my parts. do not cry for me. i’ll not allow my name on your tongue. understand this is all well thought out. the sinews quiver not from fear but the jolt of realization i am finally free of you all.

#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Oct 25, 202101:31
if i'm okay (excerpt from 'From My Front Steps')

if i'm okay (excerpt from 'From My Front Steps')

excerpt from my book 'FROM MY FRONT STEPS'


'if i’m okay'


she’s having her first sleepover

i can feel her glow from down the block

she’s found a friend who accepts her as she is

it’s all i could ever ask for

a lesson i pray she learns

without my constant reminding

it’s hard being a father

trading football jersey for dolls

a stern tongue for princess voices

and i’d be a liar if i said i wasn’t a bit sad

and i’d be a liar if i said i won’t consult

the stuffed animals lining her bed tonight

hoping they’ll ask in inflections i impersonate

if i’m okay.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Aug 06, 202100:40
thunder (excerpt from 'From My Front Steps')

thunder (excerpt from 'From My Front Steps')

excerpt from my book 'FROM MY FRONT STEPS' 


'thunder'


when i was a little boy

my mother told me

thunder was only the sound

of angels bowling overhead

so when i hear it now

i laugh with the thought

we’re all on one big alley

wearing miscolored shoes. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Aug 05, 202100:16
the forgotten phase (excerpt from 'From My Front Steps')

the forgotten phase (excerpt from 'From My Front Steps')

'the forgotten phase'


the country closed tight

though like an old whore

some parts insist on parting open

accepting the dime but not the dollar

common sense priceless and drying in jars

moonshine gone the way of lemonade

and the sober guzzle it

while the drunks measure the fingers

clinging inside the glass

laughing cause they get it—

the hard stuff lends the buzz

but reality is what’ll get ya—

with swimming heads they toast the drowning

knowing thru abandoned hearts

they trained for the marathon

not the race.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Aug 03, 202100:36
elopement

elopement

elopement


so this is it

the guests have gone

the way unattended

no one to witness

your first dance

did you sweep away

your lack of rsvps

along with

your growing return of regrets

they were released, you know

doves to sky, or rice

so cliché

the old italian man

grips the broom and in my accent

your love has been like wahter

always running.

we shared the same vision once

billowing white draperies

ghosts to air in our beach villa

and i’ve clutched your spirit since

and you’ve fled our vision

like wahter.

so this is it

no one to hear your heels skipping

save the old italian man

his broom keeping cadence.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Aug 02, 202100:54
self-analysis

self-analysis

'self-analysis'


figure yourself the fuck out.

i can’t do it for you.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jul 12, 202100:06
you knew shit until me

you knew shit until me

'you knew shit until me'


so accustomed you were

to the frill, the grandeur

so accustomed to sparkle

the hollow repetition

of delicacies;

you never saw me coming;

you never knew i

existed at all;

truths long denied

now stain you;

gentle love atop your bed

traded for a hard fuck

against the wall.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jul 02, 202100:27
thunder

thunder

'thunder'


it’s thunderously quiet in this dark.

the truth is that no matter how much

i tell myself i am better off without you

i’m not. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jul 01, 202100:13
right mix

right mix

'right mix'


you and me


nothing but bone

to provide space


flesh to bind. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jun 29, 202100:09
day after day

day after day

'day after day'


the cruelest

of all the lonelies

is waiting on a phone

that refuses to ring.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Jun 25, 202100:09
murderers

murderers

'murderers'


i drank scotch 

i drank scotch

drank another scotch 

and took a piss 

and noticed the snot 

on the walls 

a graveyard of snot 

dead by smearing 

and dead by premature

picking

hanging 

a sacred place above the urinal.


i scrubbed my hands

did not touch the bar

but threw down a good tip 

and got away 

from all the disgusting 

unclean

murdering

motherfuckers 

that could have been sitting next to me.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Jun 23, 202100:43
a different route

a different route

'a different route'


i really should be sitting atop

the cool dew mat of your grave but

i've chosen a different route today— 

uncomfortable stool beneath me

a jagged tear on the one beside

sipping on a scotch

watching as what remains

of this afternoon

bleeds away. 


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jun 20, 202100:19
monstrosities

monstrosities

'monstrosities'


come

don your spider silk trousseau, indulge me

a jig—

funeral hymn and devil's perfume—

blackened, our matrimony

miasma, our vows

ever faithful i'll be to 

rust-mouthed promises

while you cherish my slack cock 

against your thigh. 

in honey light our shadows creep

as we fuck in this church van

spawn a slit-eyed bastard 

meant to rule gravy train slugs

then leave it steaming—

glistening under dashboard's light—

saw-toothed smile crooked and pure

while we murder cherubs with our rubber gloves on.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Jun 17, 202100:41
no bones about it

no bones about it

'no bones about it'


you make me realize

just how insignificant

i truly am.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jun 16, 202100:07
no matter the label

no matter the label

'no matter the label'


scotch goes down smoother

the more pain you’re in.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

Jun 14, 202100:05
slice

slice

'slice'


we all need 

to bleed out

our own way.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jun 10, 202100:07
yeah, it's fucked up

yeah, it's fucked up

'yeah, it’s fucked up'


things were much simpler 

when i harvested hate

and not this hateful thing

called love.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.


Jun 08, 202100:09
ghost whisperer

ghost whisperer

(from my collection 'Scotch and Scars')


'ghost whisperer'


the dead are all around us.


look at the shattered faces

haunting their glasses

at the bar.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.


Jun 04, 202100:13
you

you

(from my collection 'A Distilled Spirit')


'you'


in a trick of light i found you

pouring venom from calloused hands

ripping faith from gibbous moon

i’ve loved you ever since.


your cruel grace matched by

even the coldest of gray januaries and

as the sun died

you spoke to me the foulest nothings

whispered from your alligator snout.


you poured acid in my ears to

quell my methods of thinking when

you knew full well

i had no free will at all.


chant a new song of turpitude

blasphemous act;

i’ll love you ever more.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.


Jun 02, 202100:37
soul at the bar

soul at the bar

(from my collection 'Scotch and Scars')


'soul at the bar'


he mutters and hides beneath 

that old chevy hat of his

i figure it’s the only true comfort 

he’s got left

judging the way life has imploded his face

he drinks bud

pisses politics in the stall

his marriage emptied in the shot glasses 

turned upside down before him

he mutters and draws his face in like a turtle

but life has left no hard shell

to protect him;

just his chevy hat

and every ounce of sorrow 

americana has to offer.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.


Jun 01, 202100:32
empty, still you try

empty, still you try

(from my collection 'A Distilled Spirit')


'empty, still you try'


my bones gleam

my eyes ache

as your unwavering light

searches across my pores.


you curse my resolve

while you continue your

bloodletting—

when will you learn my veins dried

a long time ago.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.

May 28, 202100:18
bank account

bank account

(from my collection 'Scotch and Scars') 


'bank account'


all the money in the world

why would he go and hang himself?


i pondered the question

sipped my scotch

while conversation surged through the bar

an incoming tide of bewilderment

and bullshit.


i had one more for the road.


sometimes i drive the highway

when it is empty and dark

with my eyes closed tight.


i do this without a buck to spare

in my wallet.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.


May 27, 202100:29
truth serum

truth serum

(from my collection 'Scotch and Scars')


'truth serum'


i will not diffuse the truth

dropping cubes into my scotch

dirtying the amber of my reality

muddling the legitimacy between us


we could never coexist;


you, cranberry splashes

me, neat dollops of the way it is.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.

May 24, 202100:19
ticket to shit town

ticket to shit town

'ticket to shit town'


it’s far easier

to accept the destination

than the drive there.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.


May 21, 202100:07
mercy killing

mercy killing

(from my collection 'A Distilled Spirit')


'mercy killing'


do you remember that day you shushed me?

silk finger on my lips stilling

my pulse

clouds fell and you

caught them, dabbed

tears from my eyes, stole the

sun's rays, stabbed them

through my heart.

mercy killing, so was whispered

still i,

i could not talk, not

with your fist down my

windpipe, sweet charm tearing

me apart.

i should have thanked you, admitted

you were never

to blame

still i,

i was the quiet one

and you,

you so insane.


#barflypoet

#josephapinto

www.josephpinto.com 

© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

*

Poetry served to you raw and unedited from the moment crafted;

all poetry is older work and chosen at random unless otherwise noted.

*

‘Scotch and Scars’ and ‘A Distilled Spirit’ in paperback and Kindle ebook at Amazon.


May 20, 202100:34
absence