everyone is going to die at a very young age.

bark

every bodies broken
yea nobody works
Like giving up a paycheck
stedda giving up your shirt.
Happiness is broken hands just chokin out the hurt.
Well more like life is such a tease who cheats til death is just a flirt.
Well I know I'm a nice guy
who's really such a ****.
I saw that light casts its own shadow so it has a place to lurk.
worms are treats for creatures but they're life inside the dirt
the same dirt our lovers bodies become when they meet their worst.
Your body is a vessel carried round inside a hearse.
The road in the cemetery can't be rode in reverse.
Like life makin little eggs or was it chickens who were first
we cluck and **** and find no answers but have knowledge of a thirst.
we do doing poorly so well that it must've been rehersed.
I'd rather see a play where we're all getting reimbursed.
the endings always happy cuz we're happy being cursed
We'd probably take that money buy unhappiness or something worse.
Ok.

you are the gecko i watch
on the wall
and i gladly become a
fly into your mouth to chew
and to swallow
to become you
are the gecko
i watch
on the wall.

my name is absenteeism
my name is relinquished
my life is a tunnel
into everyone's hearts
i am thought

i held hell in my hand and fell.
silent and dead
at the end of the penrose stairs.
living among the rats.
promising to pay them back.
giving out ribs, tissue and teeth
when there is a debt to collect.
waking with ***** in my sweat
spilling to the floor
in every corner that was met.
confused that there is no door.

you can teach a man to fish
but you can not teach a fish to man.

is a slave
who doesnt know
theyre a slave
still a slave?
that depends
on your definition
of freedom.
what does
a human need
to be free?:

the understanding
of what freedom is.

Hangin out with the teenage palmtrees
which are hangin out around the pool.
I need to act a fool
if I don't I won't be Kool
And if I'm not
How. Can I be Kool?
In my later highschool years I dropped out of school
Cuz I don't follow the rules
But now I'm just a tool

Feed the goyum fodder
Wash it down with poison water
Oh boy, oh wife, oh daughter.
We've been fattened for the slaughter.

Knitting words into my skin
Sometimes it binds my fingers to them.
The eyes and tongue are one.
My fingers are bound to them.

Lost in a poem
called a cave.

Wearing a suit of skin too dimm
To taste or see or find the hemm.

Words are now
If the meanings then
I'll figure it out at the end
If I can't I'll just pretend.

the most available dish in the world.
available and in high demand.
and nobodies willing to pay.
no one can.

The mind is
The Great White Whale
Killing ourselves
Chasing it.

swimming in a bottomless pit
of penniless men
drowning in aluminum cans.

a smoke-stack
cooling glass
back into sand.

diveinneverland.

your kids are all dead
and you keep all their heads
in a suitcase
as a memento.

you're just passing through
a city passing away
so you stay
and watch as they let go.

you never had what you lost
and you didn't even know;
to be a slave is an occupation,
guard your business
mind your station.

my greatest insight for as long as i can remember is that ive had none.

People can be involved with each other but they're only truly involved with god.
Nothing can be obtained,
But a cycle back to to the thing that created it.

one day ill find a war worth waging
and a battle worth bleeding for.
until then its just an aimless war.

it walks
on the legs of the land

through the length
of its own persistence,

sits on its shore
to watch it wilt
and breathe
and bloom

nurturing its
beating woumb.

it buries the earth
in its still-born heart

casting shadow
to the audience
of a desert.

it burns the edge
of its derelict fire
with a quiet
competing fire

and melts the sand
from its life

until it is ready to rest.

my feet are high heels
my body is a dress
my sexuality
is someone
ill ******.

With endless love, we
left you sleeping.
Now  we 're  sleeping
with you.


  Don't wake up.

                                   X

feed the hungry to each other
small groups will conspire
give them knives and fires
sharpen bones which they acquire
strip the shelter from the land
theyre stacking bodies higher

watch them wage their war

peel the skin off of their fruits
and cook the meal required
for food is strength
and strength will win
and winners are admired
tell your clan youll split the reap
dont tell them youre a liar
of their bones: an abattoir
you sleep in when youre tired
sleep with one eye open
and watch them wage their war

they live inside the walls.
their bodies folded
and collapsed in dresser drawers.
the demon possessed.
with an affinity for red.
driving in red mercedes.
drinking coca-cola.
they want you.
they watch you
and they wait.

******* my red silhouette.

I wanna **** myself.
its your birthday.
maybe then
i won't have to see you
watch me **** myself on mine.

i spread pictures
of your past
so you can watch.

there are none of my own.

they're kept in a vault
called excommunicate.

something that never was
will disintegrate there.

goodbye.

everyone lost power
we all died

the fish swims from ***** to *****
and i cant catch it.

for valetines day ill
give myself a piece
of my own flesh
and we'll argue
and kiss
and ****
and lie
and cheat
and then ill get
more flesh
and fall in love
all over again.

i saw that snake shed its skin
on the ground to
land in folds
i saw every meal shed ever eaten:
the child she was
whos soul she stole
and lost.

walkin down the train tracks
Against the train
and walkin my pet
Plastic bag

an amorphic pink humming mist
makes flowers grow
wild and
wilt and
rot.

it hums our head into hemispheres.
a Venus Fly Trap.
a Fly for a mind.

"is this helping?"

"helping what?"

"your celibacy."

".....yes."

the fish catches itself
with its bioluminescence.

its prey has nowhere left to go.

and the man starves
into the sunrise
to feed.

pre-apocolyptic.

The only thing that can be believed
Is how do you feel.
I've seen it
I've blazed through the trails
Of what's real

Built from the bones
of the horse who pulls it
and the skin of the human it holds

Time got old and died
I'm told
and lays limp in the land through which the chariot rolls.
Love cried and carried its corpse and cold air passed through

pian rains out of my pores
as i bleed the death of an elephant.

very often
im under the impression
that life is boring,
but then
i am reminded
of my obsession
with evil.
it takes me alive
and skins my heart.
it cries a bath
for me
to drown in,
laughing.
it is fascinating
and inescapable
and possessing
and voodoo
and inherently human
and pure.

its in the jails
when you say goodbye
to the only friends you have.

the homeless shelter
when
you find your love
and dont know
if she'll love you
when
you leave.

if youll be on a couch
in the bosses house
ready for the rides
to work.

if youll ever retire.

or just wear out
and die.

watching memories
until you
have to make them up
as
you go along.

if youll

nourish

the soil

or if

the plants

grow

all

by

them

selves.

the lady keeps
blowing in
the curtain.
shes dancing for me
and she gathers no moss.
the lady is lost in the curtain.
shes waiting for me to come find her.
i found her
i bound her
to let in the light.
but i shut my eyes
because thats where she hides;
in the corner of my eye
where the light becomes shy.
in the corner of my eye
lives a mistress.
she blows wind
through her dress
she blows kisses.
when she gets undressed
her bodies a list, its:
aaalllllll the tiiiime youve wasted.
aaallll the useleeessss looove.
aaallll the loooove
you couldve had.
aaaall the tamperiiing
with evideence,
that tells you
to hoard
all those feelings you cant afford.
its so simple to know
that less is more.
the moment i passed it
i sat at a casket
thinking:
When one of us dies,
which one of us cries?
if you cant expand
then cut off your hands
theyre better served
by someone else.
you want a life
with a house and a wife,
and youll have to build
your house in hell.
a white wicked fence
a fire that never relents
a bathtub full of seashells.

my ghost waits for me
i make him wait.
emaciated and dying
hes a dehydrated crisp
like a dried pepper on the floor.

he is flakes of ash
breaking off of himself.

a residue, forgetting my name,
expectorating dust in my direction.

his statue lives on in silence
as i am the sound
who travels
through all that you see.

the talking cactus

or the man who eats it;

which has the sanity?


        and the cactus,
             she speaks
               his life
               to  him
               in visions.

     tears from her eye
      mix with
      drool from his
            sagging mouth

   what is melted
     is neither soul nor sand.

my name is
an unstable particle
exploding and dispersing
smaller, useless particles
around the room.

the clouds come down
off their cloud

im able to bathe
in electricity
and how

it communicates

the senses appear
and disappear
in many
places

i am left
to understand
what it is to be
a basic condition
encapsulated
by color
ozone and
light

an electric flood courses
through each of my organs
until im a floating static specter
penetrating each of your pores.

the stars watch the earth
the earth is watchful of its men
the men watch the women
the women watch the children
the children watch the bugs
the bugs watch the flowers
the flowers watch the sky
the sky ignores the stars
and boasts of its being
largest and brightest
and best.

a leaf comes and lays
next to me
but im not
in the mood.

it looks at me
like im a god
and i know
i could be more kind
but im heavy,
so heavy inside.

if i could die i would
but i only change
into other things.

ive been too many leaves to care.

my soul is too old
to remember
everything it has learned.

gettin run over
by a black cat
when im crossin the road
and im dead

true love will find you in the end.
theres nothing left to mend.
youll live your broken life.
and youll find your broken wife.
and youll buy a house to fix.
and adopt a broken mouse to fix.

I rigorously make the **** deal itself
to the stolen wine bottle.

but ******* and bukowski ... what i already filled.

Any genius left is bygone by just gone.

and no one is left to envision.

its a murr..

there's nothing left, I say.

tell me what i should do with my life;
comment please.