i didn’t crash the car
last night with the 3 dollar
bottle of wine
and the worst part about that
is that i don’t want to
anymore
i didn’t walk past the
line we drew in the sand
last night
and the worst part about that
is just how bad i
wanted to
i didn’t kill anything
ever, not even a cloud
last night
and the worst part about
that is that i don’t
want to anymore
i said the worst part
about that is just how
bad i wanted to.

i move mountains in my head
with giant engines running lean
when i am on bottom i am surely
truly on top,
and that stands backwards, too.
i see the white brick walls
growing around this apartment
complex as we speak,
and when it comes to take you
if you let it,
it will,
and there you will be.

there are men waiting just outside
of this door who want me to
slave under them,
put myself in front of bullets,
why i might do it to stave the
advancement of these white brick
walls still growing around
this apartment complex as i
write this.
it is proven that i am to plug in
sign up
log on
and put these engines towards
social and human progress,
nevermind the definition of progress.

phd,
ba,
manager,
associate,
how high can you jump?
how quickly can you do it
when commanded?
when i am on bottom, i am surely
on top,
and that works backwards too,
i think.

SIT AND SIT
UNTIL YOUR NERVES
FREEZE OFF
COLD?
NOT ANYMORE
HOT?
NOT ANYMORE
PULL THE CEDAR CHIPS
AROUND YOUR PROSTRATE
BODY,
HAMSTER.

the highways are empty
tonight
there is a blanket
of apathy over the
clouds
did someone soundproof
this room?
no,
did,
someone mute this room?
why,
i can hear the
bells in the distance.

i sit at a luncheon with mr. pig,
there are mannequins across the street
whose silence is very, very loud
they all ask me:
“what are you doing for employment”
“no no, i am dreaming”
“what do you do for fun?”
“well it comes at forty bucks,
and then it’s gone”
just at this very moment
at that very second
a shot of red danced around
from the left of my left eye
to the right of my right eye
and i said “who was that?”
and they said
“why do you ask so many questions?”

how i see the world as a playground
when i challenge to jump the highest
from the swing sets,
big kids size
and, though i never land it
my grace and style gives me 10’s
all around the sandbox
children holding up
their scorecards and oh
if i could change my middle name to
danger
without relying on the mystical
friends that live in my mind when
i can find or afford them.
this,
see,
this is what i’m always working on.

first i must brave the electric
field filling the space between
us in your living room,
then i must make very sure i am
absolutely correct
when i stare at your thighs and
envision how the rest of the night
should go
then i must speak,
and my words must tip-toe around your face,
tickle,
…convince…
am i ugly?
am i a casanova?
if i
if i moved myself
closer to you
would the buildings fall down in
just
the
right
order?
but we must always know
we must surely know
i will go home
because chances are for the living.

on the sober days i lose my mind
the hippie girl says something like
i am “weak for taking the edge off”
i say: if you think you are a rocket
why don’t you take off!?
i say, i say
WHY I MAY BE A LION IN A ZOO
BUT AT LEAST I’M NOT A LION IN A ZOO
PRETENDING
TO BE AN ASTRONAUT,
YOU FUCK!!
but of course, i don’t say any of this
because
i am a lion in a zoo…
…so
who am i to talk?

sometimes i feel like i am sleeping in a coffin
what’s it all about?
(sometimes i feel very sad)
oh,
the beach boys said it best
(i guess i just wasn’t made
for these times)
sometimes i feel like
i am
sleeping
all day long
like the days turn to dreams
what’s this all about
this existence
shouldn’t i be
chasing
the horizon?
IF i CouLD JuST gEt
sO
mEw
HeRe

i am organreorganizing my existence
as a hole as we speak
i am chopping off all of the excess parts
i am feeling really nothing at all
i am not typing because i don’t
have the internet
and i’ve been busy
burying my head in
not being busy
/the sand
quietly calculating prioritizing
shipping recieving planning and
counting my ideas on a white
sheet labeled
1,
2,
3,
my love is drying up like oil
after it drips from my mechanical
mind,
chemicals not meaning much
to me
it’s all about cogs and machines
it’s all about chopping down trees
and building something with the wood
like a human being
so i again,
will try and take up
drinking.

i’ve not got the gut of a drunk
or the throat,
taste,
will,
but i got the need

and
come to think of it…
i’ve not got much at all
but i got a little of
alot
so i s’pose that counts
as alot (and yes,
i’m one of those who
believes that alot should
be a word)
but in today’s world,
you need alot of alot
and alot of luck
but you don’t really
need to be good,
or be good at any of it
you just need to have
done it and have alot
of it,
or alot of rich friends
hell…
i s’pose
that’s only if you want
money, though
and
again,
though
you’d all like to argue
and everyone would like to argue
that life is not about money
and act like i can’t see them
standing on the corner
next to a pimp named “society”
doing whatever,
for cash

and i s’pose if i’m a failure at art
and a failure at cash
and a failure at love
‘cuz i can’t make it last
and a failure at words
‘cuz i can’t get them across
and a failure to myself
‘cuz i don’t act my thoughts
then the best i can do is smile
🙂

oh you’ve got such a
pretty shell
and if you’ve got to go
for you,
they’ve got
a pretty hell
where they stuff you in boxes
…but not too tight
where they close you in for
eternity
but you’ve got a light
you can turn it on
and off
and on
and off
with your pretty friends
each with a pretty face
and all of their dumb ideas
in such a cramped space
because,
you see
there are millions of us here
there are billions of us here
and some of them look as pretty
as you,
so when i give you a note,
and you do not return it
and you turn up your nose
because you think i’m a hermit
just know that
your skin will fall off your
bones when you die just like
everyone else and i only
wanted you because you
make me really,
really,
really hard.

i have never been more indecisive
in my life
i cannot even get 1 cylinder
on this damn thing to fire
i can be found always, somewhere
on cornfield avenue
thumbing for a ride
that i am always refused
(without paying cash
up front
of course)
as they know that i
will rob them

i am always sitting
next to cloudy headed
johnny law
he is a bright-eyed
son of society (or of-a-bitch)

i am as dry as the periodic
table of elements

at the robot bop we dance
with concepts and ideals
and have luminescent skin
why,
at the robot bop you’ve
got wings of telephone
wires and valium
(lots of valium)
you see,
before the robot bop begins
we must tie off all our ends
we must certainly sleep-in
and make all our ammends
cuz the robot bop don’t stop
for nobody.
why,
the robot bop lives in the fourth
dimension
where they do the bop all day
smiles around the lot
hands all up in the sky saying
“we love life so we don’t try!”
ah,
the robot bop dance is fun
for all the robots.

you said “stay stay
if only for a day”
but you closed the
door may i ask what
for?

your twisted dream was
so serene you’d not wake
up for even a scream
when i poked the glass
and it shattered and
crashed oh what an
awful scene

but

nonetheless

i comprehend the frightening
trend of living without a means
to an end
you took my love put it in
a glove and grabbed at
things that i thought were dumb
so here’s to all the time i spend
in my mind,
end over end
delving into the folly of men,
the purpose of skin,
the condition we’re in,
how you’ve fallen victim to this
awful pose,
and in the end, i suppose
i broke my teeth on
your
pretty
bones.

you said you did but you
didn’t understand
do you know how hard it is
to want to be your man?
and will i fall victim to some
heavy hand plan
will i set sail just to find
more land?
i am pulling at these wits just
to find their ends
i am but a cloud in a world
of cement
i am just a clown trading
laughs for his rent
i do not want to go
just to know where i
went

these hurricane winds beat at the side of us but we ride them readily
our steady ship she blasts through
moving quickly through
i, screaming, “it’s been such a long time”
holding onto ropes with entire body held out to sea screaming “i guess i should be going”
wind beating at my face, ship
half capsized
our captain screaming “but time doesn’t wait for me
it keeps
on
going”
the thunder cracks,
the crewmates cheer
our nova, she rights
we see land in the distance
leaving her at the port the villagers of this place know that we are pirates
because we left the fucking music on when we went in
just to pick up cigarettes and mountain dew
to keep our engines running
and when we get back out our captain is already in his chair singing “we’re going
off the rails”
and we jump back in the ship, cast off,
singing “we’re going off the rails
on a crazy train”

you live right-of-center
chest cavity
as a hollow feeling

you poke at my ignition

gas floods my eyes

and if i do not move
i will explode

and if i do move i will
drive ’till the atlantic
or pacific or
indian
and i don’t even want
you to come with me

i don’t even want
you at all
if not for a second.

THE MATRXI
FIGURE EIGHT
WOMEN
VODKA WOMEN
LONGING
WHEN SPRING COMES I PACK MY BAGS AND HEAD FOR THE NEAREST REVEALED THIGH
THIS IS CALLED BEING ONE WITH NATUR
THIS IS CALLED BEING A MAN
I AM NOT TO OVERCOME MY NATURE
I AM NOT TO HEED TO MORALITY
I AM

WHY MUST I STAY AFTER THE TEA HAS BEEN FINISHED?
WHAT IS THERE TO TALK
ABOUT
ANYWAYS?
ABOUT HOW THE WORLD IS SPINNING
STARS
SUN
GOD
HUMAN CONDITION OR INTERACTION
POLITICS
FAVORITE COLORS
HOW ANNOYING THE WAY I SIP MY DRINKS IS
HOW I CONDESCEND WOMEN TOO OFTEN
(YOUR ALL JUST HORMONES ANYWAYS)
WOULD YOU LIKE TO YELL AT ME FOR NOT PUTTING DOWN THE TOILET SEAT OR NOT BACKING THE CAR INTO THE DRIVE BECAAUSE YOU HATE BACKING IT OUT?
WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DREAM OF OTHER WOMEN
OR WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO GIVE YOU THE VERY ESSENCE OF MY SOUL AND LET YOU RUIN SOME OTHER POOR CORPSE OF HIS ESSENCE?

I HOEP IF U LUV ME U WULD LET ME GO

I FEEL AS IF
AGNELS REALLY DID MATE WITH HUMANS
AND THEIR TRAITS ARE ONLY VISIBLE IN A FEW OF US
AND THOSE TRAITS ARE SLOWLY DWINDLING
SO THE AMOUNT OF PREVENTABLE DEATHS KEEPS RISING
BECAUSE MONKEYS WATCH 2 MUCH TV