Be polite when clothed,
violent when naked.
smoke till it hurts
drink till you cough
And dance with an eye closed.
Then
Seek happiness but don’t keep it.
When it’s gone,
Then
Start from step one.

i've think i'm going to take a break from breathing
i've been addicted to it since as long as i can remember
it's an expensive habit
and i can't afford it anymore.
i'm not interested in quitting forever, i just want to take a break for a minute.
maybe i'll put my life in storage for a few years
and pick it up when i feel like using it again.
maybe while my life is in storage i could
loan my body to science for a little while...
or maybe i could rent out certain body parts and bits of my psyche;
my **** to the cheated ones
my ***** to the meek ones
my skin to the ones who are not comfortable in their own
my sensibility to the damaged ones
my conscience for the rash ones...
maybe i could sell off the best days of my life so far
people could buy them and save them for rainy days
then relive them in their own bodies while they relax with a drink on the couch
or maybe
i could sell off my best memories (like the time i shook james brown's hand) $5 a throw for a ten second memento...
because in my life i've been: a son, a father, an athlete, a guitar player, an artist, a lover, a hater
a ******, an alcoholic, a collector, a buyer, a seller, an *******, an angel, a killer, a savior, a graduate, a drop out, a connoisseur, a genius, an idiot, a smoker, a non-smoker, a world traveler and a million
other things that make me different (identical) from (to) you. there's gotta be something lodged up there worth a couple bucks to somebody...
maybe i could patent the idea...or maybe i'll just keep them to myself until i feel like sharing them.....i don't know. maybe it's just a dumb idea...i can't make up my mind right now...

allow me to get real
If I may
the car wash where I work *****
money is great
because I love to blow it
but work is soul crushing
sometimes I fantasize
about going to sleep
and never waking up
not suicide
just an infinite nothing
in one small **** I could be gone
and not have to worry
about letting down my crazy alcoholic mother
who I love more than I would've thought possible
or my absentee father
who has been a wallet whom I've grown a surprising attachment to
and you all read my poems
I scoff at even calling them that
but you read them
and maybe think,
I can relate
or I like his style
well lemme tell you something
my style is self destruction
***** stained sofas
and ****** faces
and there is no glamour to it
and I'll be the first to tell you
there's no glory
I'm in a hole
and I'm addicted to digging
but if I may
let me say this
don't worry about me
worry about you
worry about what will happen when we all wake up
and ask ourselves
what the **** have I been doing with my life
where did all of this time go
all I can say is this
if you aren't living
on your own terms
working towards whatever it is you SOB's love
then you might as well die now
because if you aren't living for passion
are you really living at all?

so you've graduated high school
you got into that university you wanted
or maybe the one you didn't
still,
you're going somewhere in the fall
then you'll live the easy life for four or so years
gain some weight
lose it
change your fashion sense
discover who you are
all the while
you'll be doing dumb ****
making friends
losing friends
and even learning a few things along the way
then you graduate again
hooray for you
what's next?
a job?
a year of looking?
you could always go back for your masters
you know with the dilution of a BA/BS degree today
you'll probably need it
if you don't want to flip burgers
so now it's been 6 or 7 years
just in higher education
more like a decade
if you pursue that pesky PHD
so you can make the big bucks
then what?
pick up a nice girl somewhere
you'll both grow together
fall in what you think is love
compromise after compromise
for some romantic ideal
which you chase but never catch fully
maybe the poor broad
will churn out a couple of kids for you
a son to carry on your name
a daughter to protect
and they become teenagers
and you're old now
you don't understand them
and they resent you
and all of those dollars
you worked so hard for
disappear
like there's a hole in your back pocket
and then the kids go to college
just like you did
and you and the missus have to fight
to act like you aren't dead in the water
and then one morning
you wake up
your skin hangs off of you
in all the wrong places
it looks like you are wearing a costume
which doesn't fit
and you get winded walking up the stairs
to your study
where you sit and drink the night away
before you crawl back in bed with the shack job
where even the slightest touch
is no longer tantalizing,
but irritating
you wake up and realize
you did everything expected of you
you wake up and realize
you did it all wrong

Dark brown hair that matches her eyes
The girl in the woman who tries to survive
Amongst the concrete of grown ups and serious things
She looks to the sky and she wishes for wings

Notes of melodies pass the window
Of the office of the girl who sways to and fro
From the 53rd floor at her desk she does sit
Questioning, wondering, if this is it

Doodling flowers on figures and sheets
The woman is busy, the child incomplete
As the synthetic air blows in the office space
The polar opposite of a warm winds embrace

Clocks tick and bring a tune to her mind
So far in her life and yet she feels left behind
In a world of numbers and frivolous words
A girl in a woman just longs to be heard

Aspirations of princesses are miles away
Longing for daylight in a castle of grey
As business pushes on, so dreams still survive
The girl in the woman fights to stay alive

"So what is it"
"It's the chemical dreams are made of"
"it comes in waves:
the first hit you feel awesome,
the second hit you feel awful
the third hit makes you forget everything"
three hits
lightly cooking the bowl
1
this feels great
2
my heart is going to explode
3
the color drains from the world into black and white
sepia
and purple stars
the spirit molecule
and my body feels like a thousand pounds
"just close your eyes and ride it out"
fractal light patterns
and flashes of eyes
the eye of ra?
the eye of horus?
no
the Goddess Seshat
I had no idea who she was
but she was talking to me
her voice breaking through the tentacles and sound wave mesh
she said
God is weeping
and I said but why?
is it because I was bad?
and she said
no,
it's because you think you are
and his face flashed before
drenched in tears
only to be replaced by a scorpion
but I'm a Taurus and not a Scorpio
the silhouette of a bull blowing smoke
and she told me many things
she told me about me
about wisdom
about the world
then a phone ringer sounded
it was a text
and the cloud of cosmic dust particles slowly settled
It was the real world again
only this time
more peaceful
"Guess how long it's been?"
"five minutes?"
"twenty."
and I could already feel it fading away
all that's left are flashes of images and conversation
and the feeling that there was an important message