The things add up in my day to make me feel
Repugnant, lousy, unable to exist around myself
I reach for whatever I can get my hands on
There's a hum to the subway that makes you feel at home after awhile
And I don't know what it is, but I still feel destiny calling me from years away
Something is beckoning towards me
And I'd like to reach out my hand and ****** it
And thus far, that has slipped through my fingertips
But I can try to forgive myself
And just continue on living
Breathing
Just like I've always
Done

I am reassuring everyone in my life that everything is going to be okay
while in the meantime I'm truly just
fine
really, its fine
IT has
heartbeat
and IT has
pulse
and IT grows
leaves
and there is
beer
and
bed
and
rent

those things are all fine, and fine is
fine

and I don’t really yearn for anything outside of that
life is brilliant to witness

every day
and every day

I witness it
and bite into it
the pulp is
Fine

and I wait
I do not walk into traffic
I fear death

rational

and ongoing

I suppose that I

have something figured out

I’d like to take a walk
but its raining

and I look into the mirror
and I look

great

like I should be advertising scotch
my beard looks stern
and my eyes
strong

my blazer hangs off my shoulders
fierce

yes, things are

Fine

and the pulse
and the breath
and the leaves

I chose not to trust him tonight
I chose to head to the bars alone
away from ilyse
and I chose to keep to myself, hugging some
I asked some for reassurance, I suppose,
but for the most part I kept to myself, hung to myself
hung by myself
staggered at my own self
staggered at all of it
I am desparate
fallen into a well of void
I want to be just like HIM, just like THEM
i'd like to FIT IN BETTER
but I am
STUCK
in this vanity
of shrinking infinity
slick this off my back and turn to the next onward motion and hope that it sticks! for gods sakes, for the poor old boy
give him a shot of bourbon, he needs it

this THING
eating at my guts
is it forever?

eternal?

you would know, you thrusting GASHING
BIRD, CARDINAL
GO BACK TO YOUR PERCH

the crossroads
and all that jazz
I'm ready to sell my soul, and all that
crap
it's held up in a tight ball concentrated in my forehead
begging to be released
a river
a ******* sicstic pimple
**** and guts
ohhh that's where I'm headed, that's where I want to be
gothic, james dean


But I can't
because
there's a christmas tree in the living room
and a girlfriend who is happily going to sleep
I'll never be biggie
I'll never be Bukowski
Cobain
with the shotgun to the head
ready to die

for now, I fear death

but ******
I can still be so hot
blazing, infact
hot as the devil himself
there are those who fall victim to insanity
and those that have already fallen down that hole and then emerged somehow,

and the devil makes boredom

delicious

breathing fire
dreaming the horrific dreams
spending days a sponge, emulating
MULCH
TAKE
SPIT
picking at the sobbing satyr that is begging to be
Plucked
stirring up the soft drink and making it
too hot to touch
MINE
TAKE
SPIT
or shall I go?

NO

never, I lift, I am a winged animal, heavy as a pig
dragging on the end of one long spliff
I spit
WHIFF
I'm IT

Oh la lee lah noticing those at the end of the bar
Some have it all figured out while others
Call for one more round
Bottles draft and straight up
It's all okay, hey! Hey!  I like this song, and me too, I as well, here's to going down, down. Down

The game is on
Games
I'll sip to that
Savor, or down it
I'm all about that
Whole or partial
It's excellent

One more on me
You've got the next one
We may be here today
But time is funny
And everywhere there is irony
So, you might be a part of a plot twist
Of whiskey ginger, sour, on the rocks
With a bit of lemon on the rim
Yeah, that kind of

Twist

I feel fine, and yeah,
I do that
thing, where I have caffeine
whether in this or in that, playing or staying stationary
the aesthetics, the relaxed argon oil
the moisturizer
cherry coke
cherry coke
yeah, today is just fine
made a reservation for tomorrow
and I'll go, and I'll go
boy I'm ready for something to eat, sweets
sweets
and *** comes so easy, on days like these
Today, the day, and
when my voice is gone
I will recite with a deep low hum
barely audible
and it will be fine
because I will have that
snakebite
venom
boot on top of the hollow stage
makes quite a noise
BOOM
so yeah, today is going okay
and now the poem is over