graphite crap
December 4, 2008
the tip of my pencil is no longer made
from lead but i’m told has been swapped
for something called graphite
they claim it will kill me much slower
but i’m afraid before it begins to affect
my body or even my brain it has already
killed my plight
for if that which i use to write with has
no affect on the longevity of my life
i find i must seek for acidic paper
or take up drugs while writing so i can
bleed over these pages and hope
the future holds something terrible
as i spit out my fears on the page
begging the last few words will somehow
be dabbled in blood from my sweat filled
brow.
alas, i’m too hopeful and perhaps too healthy
which helps my dreams for the future
Just another day at the office
December 3, 2008
head drooping
eyes nodding
thoughts sticking
brain fuzzy
kneck wobbly
words slurry
julio sleepy
forgive me for i have edited
December 3, 2008
i pictured your face
contorted in disgust
when i cut out
shit and goddamn
excusing your expletives
to protect propriety
what choice words
will your pen
spit now?
mr. cheater man
December 3, 2008
for all the times i left things behind
and you charged me for storage
by the hour
well played
well wishers
December 1, 2008
my gaze falls downward
the dried out walls secrete dust
centuries’ sighs.
i think of you but only in bad ways
December 1, 2008
woke up this mornin’
with that taste in my mouth
felt just like you
when you were spittin’ me out
now the waters gettin’ cold
and your body made of smoke
getting less and less composed
of my breath you called a home
anyone who ever said
that life was good
and could be done
by anyone
never slept in a bed
while the building next door
exploded and shook
the whole room until
we stood in the door way
hoping (and then pray
ing) we would live to see
another day
no one who ever talked
such a way knows what it really
is to lose and loss so numbing
they forget to pass on the wisdom
to the next generation
happyku
November 30, 2008
happy happy glad
happy happy glad glad glad
happy and then sad?
why does the sun rise at freaking 7:30 am?
November 29, 2008
night and then
you’re up again
at the buttcrack of dawn
or an unfortunate hour before
Hello 27
November 27, 2008
I welcomest thou
and praisest thou
for giving unto me
an excuse,
nay an explanation,
nay a justification
for my in progress
male-pattern balding,
unexcused by my previous 26 years.
orgasmic states
November 27, 2008
Hurtling along these highway streets,
traveling through the night
as the music pounds its way
into my head, heart, soul
driving!
Pushing!!
POUNDING!!!
faster!
Further!!
HARder!!!
HARDER!!!!
into the night,
into the darkness,
into the music,
wherever it may lead
bloody nose
November 27, 2008
this was a stinging
critique on love,
and the insanity of it
or the insanity of me
and my bipolar disorder
and my anxiety
and my hatred
and how i’ve probably not trusted a soul my entire life and have subsequent problems doing so in the present or any forsee-able future,
but it ended up
dead as the leaves
replaced with something
now as i re-read it,
decidedly more dead
and probably
better.
Jack
November 26, 2008
There once was a Jack from New Jersey
who suffered greatly from pleurisy.
He went out West
to clear up his chest.
It worked. Then he died in a car crash.
scenes from the domestic war front
November 26, 2008
black and red
hedge trimmer in hand
i set to work conquering
these unruly bushes
until a spark of
amber flame licks at my elbow
and then power’s out because i
cut off the cord in the
course of some friendly fire.
Roger Mugs
rcribay
Ned
timsaslacker
joshuagrace
Julio Chapluzki
freakynewchild
Poeta Maximus
David X. Hugo
