A long, long time ago, I can still remember when,
Junk food made me smile,
And I knew if had my chance,
That I could make my fatness dance,
And maybe I was happy for a while.

But McDonald's made me shiver,
With every burger they'd deliver,
Bad news on their doorstep,
I couldn't take one more step.

I can't remember if I cried,
When  I passed size twenty-five,
But something touched me deep inside,
The day I knocked back obesity fries,
CHORUS.
So, bye, bye McDonald's French fries,
Drove my  chevy away from McDonald's,
didn't have a bevy,
I said goodbye to whiskey and rye,
Singing no more apple pies,
That's the end of obesity fries.....

Did you  go to McDonald's biomes?
Did you know you're  changing your genomes?
Eating all those pesticides?
Now do believe they love you, guys?
Might as well eat dead flies!
And can you change evolution in real time?

Well, I know you're addicted to them,
You'll need more than treadmills in the gym,
Now can't even put on your shoes,
Man, you'll dig the obesity blues,

CHORUS.

I was an obese teenage bronco buck.
Driving to McDonald's in a pickup truck,
But I knew I was out of luck,
The day I ate landfill in those French fries...

I started singing bye, bye obesity fries,
Drove my chevy, had no bevies,
And the burgers were dry,
This is the day I knock back French fries.

CHORUS.
I met a girl who sang the blues,
She'd passed turning size twenty-two,
I asked her if she ate junk food too,
She just smiled and drove away,
I drove down to the store no more,
Where I ate additives years before,
But the junk food store didn't care anyway...

CHORUS
CHORUS....

What Hope Remained?

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When putrid plumes dulled morning into night
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent,
        As mortals wept and earthborn angels went
        With downcast eyes to clamber heavens height.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        When panicked sirens wailed a lost lament
        And backs were bowed beneath ungodly weight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent
        As boots bore souls up treadmills burnt and bent
        To scale a void devoid of dawning light.

What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
        For those in sight of angels heaven sent
        Atop the world to aid their mortal plight,
        Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.

        When wingless brethren conquered feared ascent
        To gift last hope to all who saw their might:

                What hope remained when hope for hope was spent?
                Hope lived in heart-struck deeds of bold intent.



In The Fall

I chanced upon a stranger in the fall,
Cosmetic garb of office black and white
Portraying calm demeanor of his plight
As shadows panicked on a stricken wall,

And oft' I find my mind in numb recall
To look upon that helpless human kite
Who tumbled from the terrors of a height,
Yet graceful as an eagle in a stall

Before it plummets earthward --   'Neath the pall
Of twisted steel rended by follied flight,
That stranger lives forever in the light
Suspended in iconic timeless sprawl.

        I wonder, in the briefness of his fall,
        Did he derive the meaning of it all?

I gulp down an Energy-Booster-X,
blue and sour.
Siri turns on Radiohead,
15 Step.

I step up to the pyramid of treadmills,
bouncing and salty.
Surrounded by Greek gods,
Beta, Alpha Gam, Pike.

I motivate myself by my surroundings,
bulging and ****.
Cardio first and then core,
2 miles, 200 crunches.

I connect my sweat in a line down my shirt,
blotchy and stagnant.
Everyone stretches in the end,
Thighs, biceps, pecs aflame.

I will not stop until I am perfection,
beautiful and sculpted.
Alarm set again,
For 6:30am, 7:30pm

I walk down to the quayside,
past the Pure Gym fitness centre's
plate glass window.
There is a phalanx of treadmills
facing the glass,
populated by women
running nowhere,
an image of futility,
trapped like flies at a window,
determined and doomed.

The fitness centre looks out
at the huge boats
that work North Sea
between the oil fields and the fishing grounds:

The Olympic Commander,
Normand Aurora,
Skandi Caledonia,
Helliar.

On the high decks,
men in yellow oilskins
lean over the ship rail
and watch the women run.

For a moment I stand
between them, the earnest women,
the wistful men,
feeling for both but belonging with neither.

The sun is low in the sky,
and there's an Arctic bite
to the wind.
I pull up my collar,
and hurry into veins
of the granite city.

they say the grass grows greener on the other side
but I've been watering myself down day after day
counting calories, running on treadmills for hours,
you know it seems like the only thing I could eat without feeling guilty about myself is a small bowl of nothing
but even that would be too much.
and when I do eat, I eat so much that I'm too full to go on with the day
but that fullness can't fill up the empty void in my head that's supposed to be telling me to love myself
because how can I love myself when the only thing that's ever loved me was a hot pocket in the freezer
and how can I love myself when my dad says people who hurt themselves are crazy but then saw my scars and didn't apologize
and how could I love myself when I was the age of 16, the woman who gave birth to me told me depression is just a phase
and how can I love myself when the first boy I ever loved told me the only way to chase after his heart would have to be on a treadmill
and how am I supposed to love myself when people think that not eating all day is an accomplishment
but who knows maybe the grass is greener on the other side after all

I can change
the speeds,
but I will always increase
in time and distance.

A seemingly endless
track of rubber
energized by electricity,
worn out by the steps
I and those before me
have already made,

But I can choose
to get off
and stop.


I just haven't decided
how or when
I will get off.

Wow. I think to myself, its already 10 AM, i really wasted two hours of my life bullshitting on that pathetic website. But, it was nice to feel like i was doing the community a favor. That is, steering them in the wrongful path of someone that isn't myself. Ironically hysterical.
       I log off and shut my laptop as i take a sip of my coffee that was already cold. Ugh. I dump the rest in my kitchen sink and leave the mug there to be washed later. Procrastination at its finest. Reaching my room i search my closet and grab a dusty old t-shirt and a pair of joggers. Tuesdays were cycling days as well as working out at the rec with my buddies.
       Running close to 50 I'm glad to say i stayed in great shape. Most people let themselves go. But not me. Of course, i would rather overpower my trophies, rather victims. Plus, the lean strong type of body attracts the younger woman. They melt away at the thought of a strong older man to care for them. A nurturing man, that is one mask i enjoy. Mainly because it gets me ***. Who can resist?
      I reach into the hall closet and pull out the bag of cat food. Hmm, almost empty. Note to self, buy cat food. Ares , meaning God of war, has been with me for about 2 years now. One late night of me sitting on my back porch i heard meowing in the back of my alley. So tiny and helpless, all wet and covered in mud. I took him in as my own.
        He pretty much keeps to himself, much like me. Perhaps, in such ways i am also like a cat, minus the sleep. Quiet, tends to his own needs, watches from a distance out the window searching for prey. Maybe that's why i keep him around.
        The sun shines bright enough making me squint my eyes all the way to my car. A classic 1969 ZL1 Chevrolet Camaro , V8 engine, up to 500 horsepower perfectly made just for me. Not compared to the camaros nowadays, complete trash if you ask me. Nobody appreciates the classic older culture but of course society changes everyday.
        About 30 minutes from Anytime Fitness, the gym that me and my buddies usually meet up at. Although, today i was attending alone. I had much tension to work out given the anxiety of the search for the killer going national. I had about two hours to spare until our cycling group was going to meet up. Perfect.
                Ah, the smell of sweaty ***** in the men's room, followed by too much of that Axe body spray being thrown around to disguise the smell. Yeah, because that works. They really should invest in some Febreeze if you ask me.
I approach my locker and put my duffel bag away. Really all i need is my water bottle and my pair of favorite headphones.
            Treadmills are the devil. Cardio is the devil in fitness form. But yet i never miss a day. The longest 20 minutes of my life. And that's just the warm up. HA. Continuing with my workout , dripping in sweat, i wonder if i too smell like a dumpster. Leg days are always the easiest for me.
           I approach the locker showers and quickly rinse off the stench. Of course, unlike these men, I engage with body wash and deodorant. Drying off my skin, i sit for a minute and realize i am just going to sweat outside some more once me and the boys hit the trail. How unfortunate. At least i wont smell entirely bad.
      
-----------------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------
    
                Old Fall River Road , our favorite spot to cycle. Located in the all but famous Rocky Mountain National Park. We all enjoyed it because there was basically no traffic to be bothered by and not many people dared to walk the trail. Of course being 12,000 feet from sea level and a long curvy road with no guard rail to keep you from falling, who would want to? I do enjoy a thrill.
         Parker Anderson and Miles Lawson, two of the best sons of guns i could ever meet. Parker was a real estate agent and actually sold me my house. That's how we met actually. Somehow we bonded over our love of shooting guns at the range, fishing and of course getting drunk. Occasionally every Friday, we head out to any local bar, grab a few brews and just relax. Talking **** and picking up girls, our two best qualities.
           And than there is Miles. He's about 5 years older than me but his features show him younger. Must be ******* nice. He's married with two kids well off in college now. He was a friend of Parker's first before i ever got introduced to him. Overall great guy with a wicked sense of humor. Wicked enough for me.
           Parker approaches me first with a handshake and Miles with a casual nod.
  Parker  -  " Yo, what's up bud? Getting bigger I see."
  Miles -   "Yeah from jacking off I bet" ,as he grins and chuckles.
   Parker - " And? Nothing wrong with that."
     " Alright guys, y'all done? I'm ready to hit this trail." I say. Honestly i just didn't feel the need for gossip. Keeping up with my mask of a social life was tougher than people make it seem.
    Miles " Yeah yeah just don't want me ******' on you. Alright let's go, my wife wants me home in time for dinner at five. Who the **** has dinner so early? I'm going to be hungry within the next two hours."
    Me-    " Bro, you're literally always eating. I don't know how it hasn't caught up to you."
    Parker - " OK boys, enough chit chat. Let'***** it."

        We really should have thought this through. Colorado weather was roughly in the 60's nearing this time of year, but man that sun sure was something. Cycling our way up the trail gave us a moment of pure silence.
Building our stamina all the way to the top and then resting for a few gulps of water.
     " Nobody should have to do cardio more than twice a week, let alone twice a day."
      Parker - " Twice? Who you running from? The cops?"
      Miles - " Yeah right, i bet the cops would be running from him."
Well, they got that right. Either way made sense , but i just grinned.
  " I worked out right before i came to meet up with you guys. How you think I look this good? Not everyone can appear so young like Miles."
   Miles - " Jealous *******."

        We continue cycling down the path and finally reach the end after about two long hours.
       "****, I don't know about y'all but I'm burnt."
      Miles - " Oh **** me, its already 4:25, at this point and all this traffic I'm cutting it close."
   Parker - " Tight leash, huh?"
      Miles - " My wife is always on my *** about something. Says I'm always out with y'all and not home. Clingy as ****."
" You know you remind me why i never did the whole married life scheme. Too much drama. And for what? Love?"
     Parker - " Ay, I still believe in love after all it's worth."
     Miles - " Well yeah, don't get me wrong I love her. Can't live without her, but **** does she get on my nerves."
     Ah, love. I experienced it once. I was in my early 20's , still fresh meat in the military, and met her when i was stationed in some tiny town up in Texas. She was the most gorgeous girl I ever laid eyes on. Met her at bar , actually. Can you believe she had the nerve to come up to me and introduce herself? I was in shock. Love at first sight.
      Of course , everything comes to and end and i was already being transferred to a different location. I had offered her to come with me and she declined. Said her life was here and she didn't want to be traveling around. She wanted stability and to be settled down. She didn't want me. I was devastated and left without saying goodbye. Last time i ever felt love.
       We continued to walk our bikes to the cars, on account of more traffic and civilians crowding it up.
        Miles - " Alright guys, I'm already late so catch up with you later."
Parker looks at me. " Okay, what do you say, wanna grab some brews?"
" Nah, let'***** it on Friday. Your boy needs to rest. This old age ain't no joke."
He rolls his eyes at me. " I guess. Just hit me up." And he climbs into his mustang and jets off.
  
        Once I reached my house I quickly jumped in the shower, AGAIN. I heat up some leftover chicken from the other night and turn on the news.
            *" Local news authorities report the release of the suspected custody, Dave Anderson. According to his lawyers, he was released based on insufficient evidence. This means in fact that the Woods-bury killer is still out there. We advise you to stay safe and indoors. If you have any leads please feel free to call our hotline 1-800-1111. " *
      ****, i knew he would be released sooner or later. That just means the police are searching for the real killer. Me. Although, I wouldn't call myself a killer. I put people out of their misery. I save people who need it. If only they'd understand and let it go. After all , it was only 5 bodies. Might just make it six so i can have someone to pin it on.
        Killing is bad. Don't do it. What kinda monster could you be? Yet, people **** animals everyday with their famous hunting ritual. That goes unnoticed. We are carnivores, meaning we are hunters.
          Explain the difference between humans and animals and only one I can find is that we are 'civilized'. Ha. Civilization is some kind of simulation brought onto humans thinking we have some sort of control over our lives. Control. Authority has played a big part in my life, since i was in diapers.
     Parents tend to have control of their offspring. Until, the child reaches a certain peak that spirals into denying the control. Losing the main dominance in such a relationship causes arguments and such. I, on the other hand, followed my parents control. I knew my position and i played it quite well.
     On my 18th birthday, both my parents ended up passing away. Murdered while i was away with friends. Adulthood had an all new meaning. If this meant losing your parents, so be it. I needed structure but i knew i couldn't find it at college.
       Hello marines. I left with no chance to grieve. I grew into the person I became today.Being in the war so young taught me great value of certain things. I had nothing to lose except my innocence. I had control. Kills became that much easier. Fun, even. 20 years of living life on edge and I ******* loved it.
       Once i got out, the urge was still there. Festering inside of me.
I had to find a way to **** it, but the only way I knew was killing. Thus, hello Woods-Bury killer. Aka , me.

Grey concrete treadmills under my black converse.
A new city, as fresh as mint by the Pacific breezes cool over me.
I left everything, but nothing that really mattered, for this new space.

Found my friends here, they were waiting for me.
Urging me to leave the ache behind, so I did.

I'm on the beach now, but I miss what was before the ache.
Everyday a little less...

the empires that seep into the marrow
of the bones breaking under the weight of
ghosts from every time period leaden
with unrevolted tools – unreal futures
exchange on tomorrow collaterals
echoes of empty homes unheard amid
the jeering of parliament and bomb drops
racket media revolving doors all’s
for the taking when it comes to foreign
resources or big business building walls
and the means to defend them and to send
people fleeing as if turning treadmills
of off-shore profit in hoards and stomped on
for state’s sake or fossil fuels which are like
investment banking and nuclear subs:

we do not need them, they will **** us all.

Eyes fixed on the sun.
Shoulders back.
Back straight.
Chest out.
Solid breath.
Eyes fixed on the sun.
Eyes fixed on the sun.

Control is an illusion created by fear
Consumed by the restless, caught begging for sleep
Reflection is ruthless, a bottomless pit
A strange kind of way of breaking a kid

Paychecks, and billboards, and coffee mugs say:
"We're building and building and building away"

A body that wanders sets foot on new ground
So a mind that wanders is a mind that expands
A mind that expands is a mind that creates
Textures and shapes and colors and sounds

Paychecks, and billboards, and coffee mugs say:
"We're building and building and building away"

A mind that reflects is trapped in itself
Constantly spinning in a conical shape
A circular fashion, more narrow each day
Until it's caught, and sealed, and safely stored away

Meal plans, and caffeine, and bucket lists say
Treadmills, and timesheets, and calendars say
Paychecks, and billboards, and coffee mugs say:
"We're building, we're building. Keep building away"

Small Emergency Stop button
on my treadmill every mornin,
you grow and grow
as I run and run.
The two escapes I have,
running, writing.
Emergency Buttons are only helpful
on treadmills.
even if life had an emergency stop
would you really use it?
Would you or I really give up fall days?
what about summer rays?
what about the animals of the sea,
and what about the special he or she?
Honey, I would never Stop
this life I got,
I'm finally getting it figured out.
Not saying I don't get stressed out.
I do fuss and cry about,
silly things that in the end,
where literally not worth my time.
Emergency stop, where is your
pull now? Where is my want towards you now?
Emergency Go, where are you?
This treadmill is working, but I'm not going
anywhere, I'm hardly even showing,
signs of improving.
Improving this love,
to grow, while in the wild.
I wanted to say I love you, but couldn't,
so it just hurt more.
and now, I am solving my problems
looking at a Emergency stop button.
Treadmill you wont defeat my problems,
but you do defeat my stressors.
I have you back now, and so I don't care
where we end up. As long as its far from,
Emergency Stop.

(Senryu-ous story)

I can’t figure out
why everything doesn’t
happen like I want.

I brush my teeth and
floss regularly, I wash
my roommates dishes,

I am generous,
I don’t run in the hallways,
I do my homework.

I support pizza
places, Amazon - I spur
the economy

semi-sleepless night
no worries, but tossing with
no sleep - what’s with that?

My health app says I
slept three hours, four minutes.
I’m low on toothpaste.

five-thirty AM
Lisa and I ran four miles
on the gym treadmills

Banana/ peanut
butter/ cacao/ oat milk/ chia
seed breakfast smoothie.

I've been in love with
styling dresses, layered
over flared jean pants.

My first look was a
tulle dress over sequined jeans
and tan kitten heels.

The winter hook-up
scene is in full swing - not for
me, I’m like second base

I just lay around,
in sad, unfettered, boredom
- a crying shoulder

for others, I’m not
a skanky *****, like [censored]
- try penicillin - ßℹℸçⒽ

Since, as you can see,
I am, for all intents and
purposes - perfect.

I can’t figure out
why everything doesn’t
happen like I want.

Perched on the Gravitron he scans the terrain of treadmills, stairmasters, aerobicycles
His eyes searching out someone with whom to nest,
To share some warmth, some care
Before soaring high to travel to places unknown.

I am warmed by another fire, a consuming fire which leaves its object intact, yet burns out the impurities bit by painful bit
I long for the comfort of a companion, the sharing of places we've been, the people we've seen
But I hold true to the hearth of the divine fire which promises constancy.

From my vantage point on the Polaris
My eyes follow
His eyes scanning the terrain of aerobicycles and
Rowing machines, looking for somewhere to rest his weary soul
His eyes engaging the eyes of a fellow traveller
And I know...
Once more, before he continues his flight,
He will find shelter.

1995

I am her child
I am her child as much as I am her parents,
One mother, one farther, bonded at birth and at death
As the one, the one human being of twine tied wounds
Held in the sun, on the sand, beneath Blue, to blister
Burn, and to blister, to birth, to blister, to bear the burden,
Blistering beloved bees swarm Me and I, and Her and She
Him, and What We Choose to Bee.
Buzz Buzz, Quick as they feast on the flesh of the fair frail fellows of ***
Buzzz, Buzzzzz, Slower as they eat within, create outside the child’s skin
Buzzzzzz Buzzzzzzzz, Ages, Decades, Halftimes past and return between the wickly
Wholesome Hollow Hornet Wasps bites and spits
Spits into the tin can what tender steak meat they bit
Rusted forks and broken shopping charts, twisted from years and weeks
Of Abuse from their School marks at the local Global Coffee shop and Black Soul Café
Ty was the right guy to imply the use of human lye as a Tide Guide to apply to
My o’ My
Inside is now the out, and the out was the inside in waiting.
Beauty and her blossom blooms in form
Laughs and chuckles, hugs and begs for warmth and vice and taboo
Shrinks down and grows up to meet the occasion
Is always loved. Always.
I fly through her smooth metal veins.
Air gushes me to and through, like a letter in a briskly paced postal service fluttering in the wind.
How violent my limbs flail, the whiplash on my head, when I stop and am pushed and pulled through Service Pipe #3498 Liespander Ave. on route to Bus Start #44 on route to Muddy by Water.
Her chuckles boom through her body, vibrates every bit of artificial bone that was once the remains of passive customer both hated and mirrored by Long Striders and Easy Tongues.
I am weak now. I was once the shield that protected her. Held her, Covered her. Away was torn my skin cells to make way for the dynasty of new. Useless and disposable. Old, stupid, but loyal. Loyalty means ****.
*** and *****. Show it, Sell it, Love it.
I grasp to that vital *****, soft and squishy, like my remaining form, only with less keys.
I play a note and walk through those cerebral canyons. My Desires from lonely and sad days are overcome by my awe and disgust in these deep magical valleys.
Somewhere in here, the Queen of Black and Thick controls.
Over perhaps now she controls the queen who controls another.
Like Treadmills in the Pink and Black void.
Metal overcomes again. The grey and Blue strings return to my flesh, knitting through my brass lined wounds, turning me into the weakest book never read.
They pull. I become less strong, less bright, a shadow of who I was. Digression into lust and power.
I am to become a child, a mother, a farther once more.
We all love the youth in control as youth, until we grow old and the youth cast us away the same we casted our old away.
Recurring cycles, Triangles with Triangles,
Fight against the Status Quo to create Your Own. Fair is Fair.
Burn White for Burnt Black. Black and White means nothing. Burning Does.
Repeat and satisfy those who will turn their backs once they out grow you.
Rub and Burn like Rubber on a Very Tall **** that calls the Chicken an ***.
Break free the maze, Shine, open two eyes, not three. Escape. Escape.
The flys are coming around again. Their buzzes echo through these veins very well.
Good metallic acoustics in here. Should spend more time here than what my future upholds for me.
Make that little bit of money. You are nothing in your job. Nothing.
Children, birth your parents right this moment, please and Thank You.