Writers Make Choices

blaaaaaaaaaagh

2012-02-11T03:27:00.001-05:00

testosterone stones sink arteries holding strings puppets dance on magazine reflections reloaded and plastered in paris pressing harder against the imaginary air it tears fairly fierce frigid fleets sleets snow down too feathers plush and push and grab and the last thing desired was the only thing received refill the bottle perceived the toggle back and forth (a farce) farsighted beyond seeing the present parcels detached and missing resent trailing comets dust falls down in space only if youre looking up.

ELEVEN FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TWELVE

figgy pudding pushing twenty {JUSTANOTHERSHITTYDRUNKENLULABYATSEVENINTHEAM}

2012-02-10T07:35:00.000-05:00

tuscalosa tossed in transit lift the anchor scrambled hands hit harder than the anti band ship wagons left the railroad grand trip desert dry and rigid skin softer than the softer than holding hard and still pretends that other side will still begin with water water water drops and drips and drips and drips and stops and bottle bottle runs and tops itself in hopes of non forgot and forfeit fallings logs and crops and driftwood stuck in chimney tops and breezes burnt about the bread and smashing shelters shelled in red and dipped in digs and dreamt in platinum crept in crazy crafting classes scream at eagles stealing statues feeding feeble feet that rattle burn your face into the cattle scrape the hair and screen fed shadow still the lantern lights the platter and plates the place instead of castles.

TEN FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TWELVE

shin splints shaded blue

2012-02-01T03:44:00.000-05:00

serpentine luxury tests plural and septic skids roads and corn open love boat heart shaped pliers pull restless tankards of tradition discounted ninety nine free fine fee. stand in line thanks the otter played hard but wet in the water forks stream river boat again stuck in the mud rut edy steam powered pinacle place forward press return rented and resigned but reigned for a while. seize the seas salted beaches candid canes sweeten manageable manes minty fresh prints reside in town meat factory sound off ricochet set concrete brick brake fast aiding estuary priceless remorse cantaloup canteen screens true london called and created cave. sanskrit karaoke crush a loaf porridge pleasure button dissolve into chemical stain.

ONE FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TWELVE

the eternal chauffeur

2012-01-15T03:23:00.002-05:00

stranded in hot sands hot springs strands of resistance consulted with me consorted with me comforted me plumped and planned the brand by me canned cram jam into walnuts with sheets passengers passed in purse crass and first hand last and thirst hand faster dough slam palm firm foreman manned a drift rocks and island never cried foresight hind rights kind fights dust scars heal with wear and tear its transient fleets of ships crept into inky ink brighter than disease old weights chained in pieces pewter dipped to hide the steel keeps built bricks dripped in meal cornered shorn and sheered transparent amiss intentions a list divisions keep going conventions truncate the crates stand in for listen solitary ear canal planted in an ear drum

FIFTEEN JANUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TWELVE

wrestlers nights

2012-01-14T08:17:00.000-05:00

green sighs sign on the dotted line up against the wall fall down push it around please prick me drained limp arm flat and blue breathe more iron into me sirens scream in my teeth vibrating with verbs resin dripping like laughter stapled to the inside as well as the thigh french braided potato hash cash flow slows to allow the crates upstream pushed by teams of teamsters beaming furs gleaming gleaned too and it shows wet like water gelatinous too and it shows sweat like solder saw dust brushed onto the forehead crusts nail filings rust and bond to my leather heat stroked ego bead throw hollow horror honed on sorrow knocked against the face a bit broken before it shattered paste letters left impressions in the dust saw splatter in the action canteen sand dreams get the grit out my brain chops stop at the crowded row call them up reroute the payment late spent trades it cradle and a blanket cant forget deep spin cycle deep fin dipped in sin dripping grins gripped again hit send tinted rented begin be gin beg in nine catachym sign sweet like water cupfuls of broth salty froth scooped off the wake up cement eyes in the wrong direction steel tithes brittle beaks break saddened sanguine toothache removed shakes savored haste tasting taste buds deface dolls race scraped napes nicks tugs and stuck ruts rot cell gardens cold in blue checks white whites writes the author omnipresent and impassible forces glassicle passed through barred with classical sickle barreled and bartered bent and redotted rotate placed and crape paper softened just cant crinkle like a fly danced and rescaned like an retina

FOURTEEN JANUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TWELVE

dont beat jack with a juniper sack

2011-11-24T05:26:00.001-05:00

jumpy jumpy jumpy jitter slice the water take the liver paper thin and pearlescent pretend fins for floating wreckage broken bows and sternly sterns portly ports and burning thumbs creeping creep that reeks of leeks play the piper pry beneath.....

interlude mission missed miserly mansions morbid bridge banal bands in stairwell wedge trimming lips from golden hedge cranberry juice sausages stuffed so sucked sizzle under grease stained print stuck with pins printed in pen faxed in prayed for retaliation resilience reliant crammed in too the greaser still needs grease these streets dont run themselves pull the pails pedals too two by truth pounding sand filled bellies up in the water beach island tropical punch judy slice open with a dumptruck dumbstruck acetone on the phone collect shins hinges oranges burnt and brittle wind goes through too cant hold it either but drink up new york its a hell of time to part hes a hell of a guy to start commencement without push the button down and stare back at eyes cant resign and cant reside cant cry mud luck shovel drift push and push and stagnant stegosaurus fossils caked in blood one million years cold faked in stubs plates rubbed and slung to the shrubs cant stand a rock but yellow crunch under toes pulled one by one into the middle of the road keep going the keeper keeps and the reaper reaps reams of papers waiting to be wrote solitary note by solitary note and credit is kept retention condensation condemnation cremation irish cream cadbury egg destitute honesty cream filling honey restitute pressure roster flute crusher but paved well intent on selling rolling hills down the mountain volcanos come tomorrow anyways scrape away scrape away

TWENTY-FOUR NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

justice for endeavor with returns [AKA] {RESPONSETOBURYMYHEARTATWOUNDEDKNEE}

2011-10-04T00:37:00.000-04:00

entertaining notions string string on a thread weave tales tall nailed to a head post break boasts insightful dancing on loyalty and spite traced lines in red bleeding earth scars heal in steel and take the stories planning for the present and lusting dripping iron stakes spires spurs plates break too wait and infer in fur trade in for fear tears at the seams seamless without grasping love and hatred agile nationless in a nation placed and pacing sat by the river spoke in everlasting bubble citizens obedience or devotion the dice are thrown and converse at the delusions of intentions understanding as a pretense but mostly entertainment the last menagerie on denatured soil earth of the salt grain but mostly respect but mostly handsomely and silent and for the children and the snow splatters scalps and its reversed always in circles but some circles die and order and paper as an ideal but not without interest standing in hands and strong and dying and strong and fertile waning deny gravity to cleanse with spins as salvation and fortitude lead or hope or truth but mostly the body and cannot stand unseparated records begin at interaction lest negligence test prevalence intertwined and denied staring at blood of glass and even now our flour is bleached.

THIRTEEN SEPTEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

staring shards sharing

2011-09-11T00:43:00.001-04:00

just because isnt a steward intro segway induce stand alert and balance on the line while ballasts ring thyme pressed tongues bleed squeeze isnt crunch train on to the victims stay awake pupils alive and dancing nothing else the tango tangerine squeeze juice breakfast breaks fast plays trash placed rash prays shaft dazed graph pointillism stretched between potency and potential standing on the edge of greatness and solitude trancelike potion poultice poultry pulled me through the streets slandered on the slant and tandem to the prance like ponies dance still moaning hands trill tongues rounded and pumped while breath inflates their pores leaving ports into the brain squeeze .

not tonight

2011-07-31T06:18:00.000-04:00

speakers sound slim jumping the juice all rolled up into a ground pound booth we found the cradle robbed and rocking split with the grain hugging the tooth soothed by the sensous sounds of sedation tuned to the cryptic replies of salvation dribbled and played in the same sides of gray tins shined and lined with steel bands sanding dancing in deserts and feeding your feet treading on dust wind with coarse grainy heat

stretch it grasped and drastic dragged through the last breath of giving up

satin stain knits

2011-07-30T05:32:00.000-04:00

dark room dark lights dark eyes dont you know were the only ones left alive blink twice heavy sigh sings cold breath push back and handshake keep at it well survive windows off its time rubber snaps rubber clocks bounce on disappearing floors mopped with dark bubbly shoe shine sparkling in twilights redesigned anteroom candid moments shellacked crystal clear i can do better this time pavement pressed into people shapes standing end on end bundled and laminated press it or pay you cant take that much away without leaving a larger absence on the other end of the supplier maintenance records state chiseled in chisels dipped in glue stuck in squeezed hands squeezing hands two drops from either side together press harder give it up understand me foot shuffles foot its too late too late too late candles go out and bloom sugar spiral slide down to the wick tickle my lungs shaved twice just to make sure use us the money didnt have much to say anyways pens favored might over graphite shot splinters into solid sand reverb danced grains left alone cant escape anyways its time claimed and owned in possession iron clad sinners singed dinners on me tonight fork knife applicable size entertained by hanged wines burst necks bleed red and white green bottles just want you to be happy sassed and teased tassels trees haggle fees to the castle brick by broken brick walls grew high and cried for shelter just take it and go leave it well enough shone through the air vent same spiral split lengthwise crosshatched and picked up his hat to leave hatred double crosses the apple until you take a bite crisp juice tumbles down your chin makes your beard dry sticky

THIRTY JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

sand in the phone

2011-07-28T05:11:00.000-04:00

the writer dips his quill into digital ink leaking from his fingertips pricks blood with white feathers writes black letters bound in gold hard copied toffee scented dust of magenta sprays play in the air grasps the conceit and retreats to concept lacking in execution but escapes with his head bound tightly around his face held in place by bits of plaster plastic casted it hardened and kept its shell and the garden smelled of wells digging deeper than grasshoppers dare to dip flip it around and out of the ground pumped the air into the oil filled ocean under the sun push through it breathe deep lungs taste like dynamite sponge soaked in mostly water holds hard to his hand scabbed over by the road block jabbed roses into heels paced the world with feet of flowers red scent crushed under foot but above gravel existing just in between and twist the meat wringing all the heat out leave it cold dries in the shade dead for days but still goes on tied up with string from the butcher packed by the bagger and begged from the dagger took it anyways trite and truffled decadence danced on embers of soot put undone trembling and stocking filled up with rancid claws bent and thawed lying in salt push barrels of it out harold the scout who dared slay about the rivers blue and branching kept in tubes redundant and recurrent and recurring in a nightmare for the dark stallion loud and rounded dents iron with bone and turf sniffs whole reasons every turn caves prancing to the fence princely and calm head bows ears cut with calligraphy pressed on paper and mailed to melt whithers blows pelted by pelts felt good without felt the raw shell tipped its hinge automatic reload and tragic scattered danced with matter grasping at her and clapped at laughter

TWENTY-EIGHT JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

scatter clots

2011-07-27T05:35:00.000-04:00

the painter throws stones strung in spiderwebs lands in cobs suspended over a lake of black moon dissolving in blacker ripples plunge deep into the cool emerge lacking light strike a match lick flames with your tongue hug trains with your arms scraping the tracks pulling gravel along in a red basket handkerchief filled with dust smacked against the road leaving breadcrumbs and knives smear the world in black and white corners frayed ripped at the seams pressed flat and held when should have waited for something more the choir sang hope shone in their teeth as they chewed their words spiting the juices into the air chandelier tears burned holes in the night burst into day needles threaded holes through day pulled and ripped holes back through the darkness and pulled it tight reached out into the thread wrapped arms in arms and wanted less and was given green buckets filled to the lid dipped in a brush like candy coated the rotting log like candy and painted stripes onto it too peeled them back one by one and poured pellets into the socket compressed and pressed out the best raced and nests fell from the sky or the leaves trees cried before they bleed hold a pocket out catch its seeds soaked in soot sent back from the garden leave it all behind wrapped in swaddling memories wandering serenity scenery change steel steel steel tongue cold and running but still broken melt and soder sober sadder saddles lead the way out of town back to the flower holds the rain in its cup broken butter battered better burst bust and bread setter leapt from the fire house webs spreader heads shelter rubber button bounced redder pressed silver kissed hilts of whisks and trinkets overlayed and overpaid on the lawn candy coated coaxed in rooters rudders steer the whistle blow harder pretty pony gallop fast the magic hack laid out like a picture and as pretty as kissed and hiltered hindered by hints all spent and given up like ghosts

TWENTY-SEVEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

granite janice

2011-07-23T06:56:00.000-04:00

the baker takes dates baked in bass hates the way the sunlight plays on his eyelids dust at dawn white lungs bake in heat and moisture atypical of this time of the year spreading slicing pricing his body piecemeal for meals made of corn and wheat germ torn from the berry held its stalk high in the wind bent like steel golden too but that wasnt his job just took and hooked the paste ground down into a powder pounded like lathe and foaming at the pout dripped sex from whiskers teased mixers mixed with liquors dipped in his fur the oven smelled nice popped like corn dropped like stone topped and born of fire born of wood born of earth lichens likened him to god lay in birth perpetual open womb river flows and pulled forth the desert dosing in the haze lizards lay alike and so they die perplexed at null whole holes filled with their naught at this nautilus not just his bit and spit pricked and preyed played with it till he pulled away pinpoint and concentrate restraint berate and degrade c grade be great a grate lay in the way pulled by seventeen mouths biting each bar chomping at the bit and eating the curds way below the city pinstripes of light lit black tubes covered in air and holding soot seventeen mounts played top but couldnt keep up couldnt creep shut the dumptruck backed into the back lot half locked and half stopped buns spilled forth and trapped got the goat coated in candy left in distress and pressing harder

TWENTY-THREE JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

chain seared on mare to hardened fails

2011-07-21T06:30:00.003-04:00

the tailor enters trailing the wellspring stringing along the felt and timber taken from the same animal points attached to lines made of steel stolen from the same absence left in the chamber takes ribbons and shreds soft things dead in rolls warmth clothed and pulled clasps fracture tear the silence and plug it back up again let it fall through your fingers like milk unwound and threaded through the same needle pierced through the stars and sewn through his skin jumped and fell to the air pulled in a million points stripes in the night they fell upon his chest wrapped him in his casket weave in the last bit of dust and the night became invisible the thousandth shadow disappeared without the definition from the source ground into brightness day ate the same meal left offered for the odds against tasting a snapshot a flavor froze in time kept moving and they sang like taste buds baritone strong paired and pruned lawn the fare soon dawned and cushioned ruled and taped placement kept in its place the basement rapped on the shade sand dune nude colored tile the lords discussed the cosmos and the orchids fire dipped and tipped with gild pricked with skill tripped the till into telling the fill filled the dirt with fill earth and the berth was loaded heavy right of the right side sides were seamed and creased pleased the meanest teeth broken against teeth crusted tongues and salted for the journey pulled until the sail filled pulled until the rail bent gulled with gall and thrown us all into repair

TWENTY-ONE JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

canned in cans in heat

2011-07-17T07:11:00.002-04:00

the butcher broke bones with metal under skin on top of heart lay still beating with hammers flesh and sanders smoothing out leather seeking out better accommodations laced with placement exams and random realizations based around the theory of connectivity cradling the creature still sticky from the chest wasnt the only niceties extended through the arms grasped with hard hands dried blood under the skin wet red on top of the fingers clinging stayed put and the rings ran through scanned in dimensions distilled with intentions ripped from the cavity and displayed on a platter green with rust sawed and seen dwelling on the minute lined and soot stained brick black grain drip canister silo spent ticked off and on beat quarter notes dine with territories tonight press flat the pride sleeps insomniac ambitions greater stiller kept moving and pulled metal on stone the softer showed and steel shone no sparks just dull thud crack splat with the eye cant mind the gap logistics depend on it flat bed trucking down south mud hutch crunching hits mouth teeth munch mud mud eats jug judge posts bail and sins for the choir halos tied and presses golden circles onto his chest begs and vices turn prices churn butter beer battered basted in cud and never swallows cheeks bulge tongue bold lips drip catch red meat batter spit on toast the knife back spreads the eagle feathers fly pillows breadth in the brink of a crying session fried blessings pry on most lean waters waddled fathers onto the coast lined up at the shore showered with turning pages stapled to the sand branded and burning circle i in the night sky with a star shower surrounding shooting stars at stars surroundings shuddering in the cold and smelting line bridled behind by rounded rind stones thrown far sounded chimes and sent spines down in rivers sucked dry and left out too

SEVENTEEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

timberfeet

2011-07-15T05:28:00.003-04:00

the dancer arose petals and all burning air with arms gradient flailing to pink clear cold in the middle and pressed for oils dripping into seats from below the constant perpetual and still clothed in skin pressed forward looking for bones pulled back feeling flesh ripped left and right in the moment painful till bliss on a rolling green and tasting freshness salty and neat lines pulled off under tape became straight toes pointed toward dirt soft crumbling and moist like dirt formed into the negative space of the hand and left on top of the mound bound by soundless pressure building in the air a castle to house his beauty break apart the bonds and let the power pour into a cup dip into the well of the senses crease the plans apart and lifted by the retreat of the pants panting into puddles resentment comes swift instincts trusted by insects burst the barrier canes ripped the silence sliced into slices pilled on platters placed into matters out of our affairs blood fell into his legs and left suddenly as the earth fell below his stationary position ninety nine point nine percent above the horizon still the toe pointed south cardinally speaking jays of many colors blew in from the east days with many covers blew in from the east the feast began beggars out in the cold buffaloed by duffles thrown nuzzled over by seeders feet feeding on leather crops in the weather and tops rather spoke than tethered beaten around a pole by a string rubber redder baby cheddar in the spring maybe fed her in a ring rising past the streamers clouds take only breezes as modes mostly public and made out of mostly stubble suspended by tension endless descent all the way torso inflates as a strange way to make air humid and warm but never appreciated and always smiling mostly

FIFTEEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

charcoal drippings

2011-07-14T04:50:00.002-04:00

the traveler awakens baked into a slice of seventeen pies piled on top of each the dancer the tailor and the whale steps through the title screen into plain view vestigial and unable to comprehend the cohesion adherent to the other side steps a sliding scale slide ruled into infinity rolled into a jelly roll donut full cup of coffee cold cut milk sucked through a straw pouring chocolate into the bottom of a glass clear as a glass steering fast into lanes oncoming off putting shirked and restless itching wheels scratched on asphalt tarmac concrete bars sat still of gold glint thinner tinnier tinier finely purring placed his head in the lap of his cat vibrations tickled both their whiskers cheeky deviled legs sawed off brush handles scrapped the backside of a snare drum hair dumbed down and to the side rack of lamb tandem sand sun samsung sizzling under the grill fat drips like water steam turns the faucet off thematic canned static trickle dagger tickles the trigger stiffer still the traveler reappears pears in hand mostly water soddered to the nail arent free to go to the dancer sitting down but covered in trees white keys in the key in the lock slowly filling with mostly water hot hot leaves and a razor too dull to complete its function the slaves slave crossroads and no road signs signals intentions dust in his eye makes him blink four times in succession railroads leave no tracks the dancer stood up in the caboose touched both walls and was held up by the stairs to the stars starting out on this journey it seemed simple enough hidden behind incidentalism flushed clean and sprinkled with salt lye and spice left to dry and hanged behind the carnival tried to take the tricycle by the hasty barnacle clam shell felled trees float logs soggy boards four by four marched into two boats the size of the world and it broke the black keys filled with mostly air strung notes with mostly caring hands the size OF the world dipped in blue and swaddled in cotton

FOURTEEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

this is not the same snail

2011-07-01T04:00:00.002-04:00

The wanderer stepped into the darkness and blinked until he saw spots of lights prickling his eyeballs with a furry felt in the morning underneath blindness bent and derided like the rails streaming sinusoidal waves detracting from the pavement chased by stray dogs on leashes tents set up along the road housed hooves and trumpets and beats packed cola by the carton and carried on towards the westward picked up by trailblazers blazing hail followed the sinners and signed on the dotted lines in the snow peppered with rain of the salty sea and bleeding open your hands and breath he whispered blinking twice without stopping to eat the eggs were cooked by now anyhow and poured the boiling water back into the river flowing downhill at a pace that kept up with the stream of diners headed back into diner for dinner spun around on the pin pinned to the dime and left it for the next tip to be passed along between the people who spent them crept up out of the cellar and dented his fender kicked it hard and moved along just because he wanted it there and that didnt make justice ring any truer on the eve of battle herded together like beards in the wind shaking and strong a mask of fur to hide behind the fence staring through the cracks bandana tied streaming summers screaming and spent till depleted crackling and deprived of dignity looking in the mirror the past stood still but the current didnt move alternating direct and sidelong hammering nails into it too left for purification at the hands of time sent upon the moment by the settling into comfortable living and lead into the fraying coat of lessening warmth protected by the promise of desirability and the fading gasoline taxed by uncertainty and wishes nothing anymore but some things still under the table undressed and mouths gaping dancing on the table cloth the moth bent its wings and melted into the wax of the candelabra fizzling as it plopped into gooey ashes wretched returns on its ambitions cymbals crashed leaned to the right and descended towards the hidden clouds paint a picture of it if you really cant stand it and so he took it leaned in past the frame and played with it till it came into his sight brightness cactus caucus blocked this instance from recurring but cured the wreath which was hanged and nailed as well dotted red with compliments of the chef hand shake and smile will only get you so far and like the ass beguiled stripes ran vertically before making a sharp ninety degree angular turn to the direction closest to the door opening because the door was pilfered in the last raid and no points were awarded blueness for a moment triumphed and fatigue sought its revenge planned portraits pointed westwards too get a move dont open your eyes or put that foot in front of that foot in front of the twilight in front of that foot seeds grew into meat harvested for the scent bottled and divided among the investors extravagantly pockets closed and drowning in sand bottled and pellets smelted benignly dipped in pewter and fused with cardiac arrest silver lining wasnt pure tested and passed fluoride levels ninety nine point nine percent but wheres the ghost

ONE JULY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

just for today

2011-04-10T04:18:00.000-04:00

squinting at the sun and staring into oblivion the satyr stands errect at the edge of eternity waiting for the signal from life to go fuck himself beyond belief and beliving in the individual spirit the spearhead splits from the spring struck with branded brandy dripping down his throat and pleaing for burning biting the frost and frosting the cake candidate for reelection electing out of the processes of caring but carying the weight strapped to every extremity and existing entirely inside of its own mind the beauty begats the beauty but brutishly shaven the beard stands in the mirror reflecting the mask passed between generations and so many that it was forgotten and besodden saddened and wet the face plunged into the creek gasping for oxygen half contained in the water salt crusted ocean biscuits dripping seaweed ethanol synthesized by necessitity pandented by the recipe for resistance closeing doors and windows and leaving th heat on made the house that much more contained until the sun rose and negated the lack of heat for the fifth and final time but seriously fuck this fuck this fuck this all that is all fuck. this. fuck...

you fuckisg know the date

bestivefeltallyear

2011-01-28T04:34:00.001-05:00

still mine digs deep into a still mind still finding stills amongst the twine unraveling trills bestowed on chimes blowing in the tint of the heated lined up pined up tapped to a truck struck and stuck saving pain for blessings and tresspassing on the trecherous terain all wheel drive slide slip slice awake in eyes take in thighs pressed on thighs basted chaste and left to sigh inside out get out now so many still encased in what doesnt matter cant betray a teasing hatter cant be phased into a ladder stepping stones higher clouds bridge matter my bridge matters it was always mine even when i gave it away still mine can not find still fined unpaid unstuck driving reckless stick shift shift this clutch clutch clutch doesnt matter mangled in a manger discus destructs constructs snip snip nip and tuck until the subject matter matters materalizes margenalizes margins marched in marzipan almond butter nut squash better net jogs block block block of ice slip on the ice frozen the mind thaw thaw that is all

TWENTY-EIGHT FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

consistent this is isnt [AKA] (HAPPYFUCKINGNEWYEARS)

2011-01-02T03:09:00.000-05:00

CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCLE! CIRCUS! RING! dancing wings that implant dreams on the boundaries between dark and wrong and strangers thinking the illusion is broken began to suspect it was real all the time is spent broke and broken denying that we never had bad bad boy just a toy and always ready to play but underneath end is neat tidy scrubbed and loved just waiting for resignation reservations playing on the moment and deciding it wasnt quite the expectation of the motive but still still KILL KILL KILL out of fear or celebration taking knives and cleavers and segregating meat from eaters destination unknown but faster still this train goes and its on steel lines running rudderless from A to ME somewhere in the middle something was lost but cant look now its just a blurred wind shine dangling in the twilight my light guides me sidelines like me but standing makes me ill take my fill and your fill too times two because its never enough just my luck never my trust just my love never obsessed just undone and let go hanging by a thread a rope a noose wriggle wriggle tooth smashes on skin but neither bleed because its so hot outside that everything is dry dry dry scrape at the surface and watch the dust spin into the sun scrape at the sun and feel your ever building feelings of futility and failure catch up with you wasted life too young to try but its overwrought overdone over easy lunging till the tendon breaks rubberband ricochet quadracep feel it in your gut but push it back down hold it down hold it there it feel the power draining and keep your face straight while you look into the lake the same thing is happening there but he cannot breathe you pretend to see and you look at yourself rippling through your mind holding your leg the cleaver chasing beavers while the beavers just have fun think you own the land think you own the dam they built the damn dam you cant contain its tears filled with sunshine sparkling on the water skip a stone jesus rocks till he plops and sinks most of the time its in the air anyways only hits the water to push it away cant stay very long one two three can we learn to count while we wait can we wait while we learn about about face march away cant care where we land as long as we jump far enough on the way but im staying on my locomotive engine engine of design while i stand still im taken forward sleeping car fall back on my back look at the celling for once too bad its pitch black just want to touch it feel its texture press my neck onto it scratch down to my waist watch the rain fall watch the trees grow watch out watching while i watch gloating im on a boat sail to the shore and the impossible corpse looks at me its leg behind its head still grinning for mama grab your ankle float you in front of the water you dance on tension cant you break it nope youre too bloated full of gas decaying pop the bubbles and the frogs like to play on it youre mostly water anyways cant hold onto you pour you into a cup consume you and watch youre effects on my system burn the boat and sprinkle yeast into the wind in memory let it grow lest you ferment in my belly intoxicate me with your toxins i just want to float i just want to fly pop the bubbles let me into my mind and maybe i can see what you were talking about ten and ten and ten and one plus two thousand thats too many to count to cant you mount your mouth into a shallow grave one million that wont ever have faces planted with traces of intent but never never never offered started to wither push and pushed and pushed and given but whats left to give its been taken away long ago when we changed our home and changed our home and changed our home the loan star shone star porn star afraid of the penis paid to do this and painted putrid but the train never stops let me off fly or flop just jump off your hand into the battlefield sieze the stars and watch them melt into sunlight.

TWO JANUARY TWO-THOUSAND-ELEVEN

channeling [AKA] {HARRYMATTISONLIKEDTHISANDTHATMADEMEHAPPY}

2010-10-15T19:28:00.001-04:00

He looked into the air and he said Write and in that moment the pen touched the page and the ink bled and the head that pounded hammered out words WORDS WORDS green words plentiful and planted by the seed sapling seedling suckling the Earth the mother fighting through the pain punishing the placement protruding and peeking at the peek steeple teeth of steel stolen and golden reflecting smiles fueled by cruel intentions the pause came and graced the tasting plentiful still stiller than cave air rotting in bubbles in the ground ballooning into the soil bursting through time piercing arrows scarecrows rare throws into the wilderness into gilded trusts built with husks and stored in tusks fluffed and rushed into the container tracing the rim with a single fingertip tipping the brim with anticipation rain touching rain and dancing trained onto trains straining drowning flailing in heat the moment passed and useless but used waiting and unreturned gracing fervent torrents tracing back to my eye still seeing by sight lightness and tridents canonized around rallies ALWAYS Dancing like notes and letters and songs made of letters and notes and written always as the intention sitting in silence surrounded by emptiness and touching your arm blindly daring to look into the burnt light but burning and feel its black heat inhaling the smoke to tickle my lungs pressure building in my head my heart watched in quiet discontent continuing its apathy rolling in the flour and awaiting its intention smelling like the flower selling like a towering tower set on the sky trampling clouds with glass setting concrete into stone circular the yellow beast beats against the ground and the men laugh and she waits for her stitches to cauterize set in diamond like a moth missing anything that was lost and hearing only the softness of a voice crying from the herd placed in pastures presenting natural nature at a premium screening the future digitally in dimensions missed and understood made of wood and clay and sand hardened like ice standing on the bottom of a boulder slowly collapsing and still dancing yes Dancing held out his hand and put it on my waist NO My Shoulder shouldnt remember shaved and flavored and especially flawed denting the hole left in the wall by throwing stones like cards and playing till the deck is full and the house is underwater and dried up drifting on the cloud and rising to the guillotine getting greener still less red less gravestones less terrain and transformation transported scantily clad in iron bouncing gravity generated and repulsed by the sight slightly appalled at the whole and wall waiting WHy Not and indeed it wasnt rest assured and peace guaranteed pieces of chocolate broke melted and sun drenched tossing water and continuity constantly crisping and risking rights striving forward for rights cupped in the bowl bowels descend and still aversion but goddamn I want to dance and my limes reflect it enviously sinfully a plenty store in reserve and steam escapes as rain couldnt build a big enough net to catch it all couldnt build a big enough castle to store all the sand in and instead landed on the island that I am anchored to the base camp and already at the peak unable to speak as the sky forces air into my lungs and lunging against it all my chest uncollapses and recreates the poison to myself building up in place of the sky the sky poison princely and pathetic praised by rhinestones running rampant crammed by timezones into a trance tracing with two fingers on opposite ends and two lips on top and the tasting was secondary and the pain wasnt aware but there in an instant pleasure flared for an instant insistent sextant and september still glowing and poked by a stick combusting leaves leaving skeletons burning like cinnamon and Dancing desperately alive with the last seconds of life desperately fighting without placing sentimentality into the equation and empathic to the core skewed and rude as a ruse rustled at the fray frayed at the fringes fringed at the middle and middled at the end ended at the destruction and created by lust in the first place inspired by a racing current petrol fueled sound crashing down on top of the bottom who wanted to smile and DANCE!

THIRTEEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

danced upon the transient stamps

2010-10-05T00:16:00.000-04:00

the bubble never popped at its center only the outside where the film was stretched beyond the point of elasticity where the membrane was drained of stability where the crane was lifted above the shameless gratification of itself standing erect seven hundred feet above the building waiting to fall forestalling tension resentment and contention coping without probing but nestling the rest of the best things inside of the inside centered where it was warm outside the firmness gripped back basking in the dethroning throwing out the milkmans spout pouring out the grocers trout and calling in for reinforcements porcelain shins baked in the sun traced by the thumb protruding into the gummy coating pulling out filthy and hurting relating to the situation but related to the causation reflecting the fault at its rightful owner buried deeper and more hollow than the map had predicted stuck a pin into the wind and went where it lifted straining necks training wrecks and playing sex as a game winning rounds of defeat waiting to eat from the hand or the arm or the shoulder but stopping before consuming the rib waiting to live and letting the center give back itself to the outside shouts eyes and pupils rulers and groups of jeweled jewelers schooled schoolers and these fingers pressing against the mass waiting for feedback lacking and waiting for feedback.

FIVE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

thingsthatneedtoberead [AKA] {RESPONSETOSHORTBUS}

2010-10-02T02:29:00.001-04:00

Retreating into our eyes to stare at the sky as the weight of our idols collapse in upon ourselves and we leave the room standing but alone for the shelves full of baggage placed in pace with the beating of our hearts starting the conversation but elating the revelation towards elation and predating the situation profound and renovated replaced a stake into the ground holding the tent up and sheltering us from clouds crumbling and tumbling towards the ground doing forward rolls here into the steering wheel peering venirs and stealing chairs sitting on stairs and staring into tears in paper hearts bearing all the shares of latent hearts breaching all the fears of bracing hearts and retreating into eyes to stare at the sky but without the retreat and plenty of defeat sitting in the gutter of the stuttering pair on par with the recent scar left by the tar that healed into a road and the bar that breached into a rodeo fit complete with clowns and all the rides that left the reckless dead and the cleverest in the head and we move onto the latest development and we agitate and radicate the complacencey left in place by the racing bleeding of the greatest heading and headways and headwinds raced into the opening left by the void when it voided its vowels into the wind and was left stuttering with nothing but constanants left rampant trampleing the rancid meat of the language that they tried to defend with nothing but shapes that lost their shape and in haste were basted and casted and plastared and drenched with beer doused with pumpkins and spices and rice was considered for an alternative to gluten but the thrust was misplaced in the flux and the message was lost when it was thought too long and the real point of the spear was placed into the belly of the beast reached when it greased its lungs with its voiding blood fluid and soot from the lungs attatched to the singularity with which it prasied itself and raised itself above that number just to see itself collapse under the weight of zero round and rolling falling into the hole prodding into the known and dwelling on the phone or the zone of penetration felt for days after the heat of the sun had evaporated all the moisture from the ground still putrid and smelling of use tainted by the invassion of persuassion and pressure forming diamonds pursed with the package and rehearsed into placticity recited with rappidity replacing the conjugation with the emotion and output not equaling the input the result was a sloppy sentance misplaced and penciled into the moment ment to mean much more then it ment perhaps in place of the place it was performed in but most likely it was lost to the length of the loss and the messenger was a mess and blessed with the gift of resentment and instability leaning onto the tower that she visited in the city at least by proxy pretty pristine and prominent but undesired by the modern or at least the contemporary or at least in the moment though betrayed by desire before abandoned by neglect and randomized by sections of festering in the heart or the brain indistinguishable by the night or the light or the pint and the darkness that covered the flame that covered the drop were all motivations of desire and he picked up on their intent but not their excuse or was it their reason and not their use or was it just use and from the juiced came the juice and the orange was not the same but the tongs were unreinged and chinqotigue unchained like misty and brighty and all of the lot and the sameness was a lot and the jails smelled hot and the pails felt rot and the quails bent not and the rails went south and south i went and down i felt and sounding didnt quite make the impression i hoped it would but sonar was found in the nearest bar and the party was afar but the starting was anear and the always was always a beer even though the contempt was felt and the liquor was desired and quicker was always more efficient and cheaper in the long run running was never a strong suit unless it was a sprint and the sprints were only neccessary if there was an audience and the intent was once again lost but the hint of the spirits were tossed and tossed and tossed like the bossed employee that waited too long to let the emotions flow like the river that left eye wanted to say and what im trying to say is too leading so i miss you and instead look at the eye the eye the eye inside always rhymes so i leave it aside and in the aside i leave it a snide remark reminiscing on the recent developments and of course itunes with its humor and telepathy would put on this song and so the lyrics that read ONE TWO THREE FOUR HAHAHAHA LEAVE JUST AS YOU CAME and only one person perhaps knows the significance but since i capsed it from the past he must realize that in my stupor i superimposed his presencc on my present and the pretext was perferated and easy to tear like the paper heart like the linx like the links that chain us to desire to prison to the heart and all the while i havent said what i came here to say dwarfed by pluralism when the goal was singularity snuffed by sunsets when the role was singularity strength and the intent of the desired who lost its luster diminishing and lacking behind a cover hugging a pillow untouched as the willow un brushed as the rudder unstreamed as the recent development developing in only one mind but two bodies and three mouths mounted onto a tripod for easy access and passed as the one mistake that lead to the uncovering of the ruins of babylon and tapped onto the keg that was passed along as the mast that kong climed upon and chimed upon from the top of the world that "all was near and the near was dear especially when the near didnt care and the care was out of fear " putting in its place the racing hearts again the hearts straight from the hearths and raking the bread out of the oven crusting over on the stones heated to heats glowing heats red hot white hot clear hot glowing heats that could not be felt only seen and never seen only known and the wind up was blow over the owner of the homes that could not be visited nor frequented only driven to from afar five hundered times or less by a factor of ten but multiplied by a factor of many driven by the heart or the hard but driven non the less and replaced by the staying and non traveling rocks that turn their faces towards the eastern shore and ride towards the west always going from where youve been to where you came from and when you come out your still in the same place that you came to but the most important thing is that you came and occasionaly i will come too even though im the only one visable to me and viable to the scene placed in the dark and the translucency of prancing myself onto the stage the arena the feeble lightning striking the pricing of the sight that i see in the dark when i beg for the light the exposure the revealing the seeing that leads to feeling and when feeling becomes cold and frigid and the lid is blissful but the distant bits fold into pillows biting the siding of the riding cowboys aluminum and bitter canned panned and harvested of value divulged and craving wine looking in the mirrior in your eyes that i cannot see and that is when the creep crept and the seep sept and the oct started and thats where we parted but the parts were joined in act and in passing again were passed but were at the lowest quality that the manufacturer produces and leaving the store while the wallet is content the product is wanting and the want leaves from the haunting of the future

the taunting of the future

the saunter of the future

the raw things of the future

that comes only in the past

but projects sideways

and places itself in hideaways

razors blades and knives say

that tomorrow is today

and laissez faire plays

fair with days

renting

and staying

and playing

but playing

yes

playing

and nothing got said

so really

this

needs

not

read

TWO OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{making molassess molten}

2010-08-07T02:26:00.004-04:00

enter the ether creeping through piles of shame left over commissions and crimson roses being crimson bothered by their essence and petrified by the sight of each other peering into the mirror and absorbing the light until the only glow remaining reduced to senility and sterilized the glass so that the dew could condense in the heat or its absence retaining its original purpose reported by its original owner and returned to reason with reckless reckoning recalling reality and filing it under fruitless futility with a purpose portrayed by poison and desired by recession as the cavernous cavern caved upwards surrounding the air with rock and raping the stone with flesh until the passage inflated with insipid inspiration bubbling upward through the dirt and popping into the realm of life sweltering in the sun squeezed by the atmosphere drawn by gravity back to the core under pretense of preminition racing in circles around the circle crating barrels in crates dusting racks with dust rusting hearts with lust burned blood red and painted onto the incision to heal the scar and scald the sensitivity such that the surrounding meat would not spoil or rationalize to the pointed tip of an idea spearheaded through a tongue and launched by the lungs with no intended destination but destructive consequences upon impact regardless of the hint towards compassion aggressively betrayed while plastered around paris and sitting on a button vibrating with vice decompressing until the silence could no longer ring in the air and escaped the prison of thought fluttered through the vaccum and landed daintily upon a bed of noise.

SEVEN AUGUST TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{the willow weeps the kitten sleeps}

2010-07-25T13:44:00.002-04:00

enter the walrus ending the tall tusk the water has only begun to adjust to its intimate sunset evaporate from it turning its depths into shallow and half wet bodies of water and bodies of sun battling bodies to battle the one thing lacking attacking in record of having have had it had not it been better to have but the wetter was bad and the dryer has pads paved in pavement paid in patience but always quite glad to part with the part for the heart of the matter was only the cart filled with mangos filled with rain blown away from the pond leaving mud to harden to crack to garden until lush and tempted with greens mending it seems is actually unattained without rain without plant without seed but yet to be seen while the ant in verse is free today the day to come is days away when the walrus plays again in the sun without mud in its way.

TWENTY-FIVE JULY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{instinctual extinction}

2010-07-24T18:30:00.000-04:00

inching sideways on a plane perpendicular to my perception and parallel to my cognizance complacency creeps in from above answering only to the antithesis of the situation subtleties sound and abstain from their agony in favor of favors and parties and participants revelries abound and enter pleas of not guilty until it pleases the court while courting the judge and coercing the plaintiff into consent vested in its blindness and stricken with light while struck with gravity and struck with its gravity and struck with the gravity until stuck and maddeningly the menace manages to maintain its message maturing in nutrient rich soil until blossoms bloom and perfume the garden the scent tinted air laced with oxygen and poisoned with good intentions left unmentioned until menstruated from the brain in the form of sterile saline solutions cleansed from its own fluids in its own liquids left to drown drawing in the surrounding moisture until it coated the lungs drips through the liver removing the toxins and is again excreted through cycles of biological metaphor porous in their transparency and sordid in their sobriety still reaching for the throttle

TWENTY-FOUR JULY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{Into the thought dropped the rock rippling ripples till ripples dropped}

2010-07-19T02:38:00.000-04:00

dancing on the edge of a moonbeam a particle of darkness drifted into soothing rays of comfort reflected off of a cold dead piece of our past that was once our body and into the slipping streams of gravity and sympathy plummiting towards our own inhibitions and stopped by our own futility destroyed with our own retention of our own ability to end our own ends and make meet our own two feet on the fluids of time and soaking up to our eyeballs we blink and get washed over through our ocular intake valves overload our sensory sensations and slip out of the current into the simultaneity of all moments that have been and never could be until the instant that the insistence of ineptitude fell flat in comparison to the elongation of elevation excited by the mere existence of an entity who was not entangled until entwined and like twine wrapped and tightly together wound with what desired to be and desired what was in its wholeness and with precision and empathy touched slightly below the target but above and across the bar dripping wet and soaked too.

drawn across the page like the ink with no pen pooling in public display and treating the whiteness as yet to be conquered to turn the page on the story witness to the entirety and estranged by the one thing that implanted its seed for the first time and had yet to grow strong enough to withstand the wind for the first time longer the the length of the branches that seeped from the seed growth had found itself rampant and the crop was culled and pulled back into the ground as feed for the future distributed and undisturbed by the hardest part of the harvest.

deafness struck the diamond with a touch of delight sparkling at its sound splicing lightning into prisms from the ground and sparking fire from the frosty air frightening itself in duplicate and desecrating the dirt under its pretension into presenting its strained sanity through the gauntlet and pressing its prefabricated facets into the ashes marring its image in its own image and refracting that concept internally until it bleeds dust sharpened by a sieve and concentrated to the power of three and cleaned by the sap from the tree that used to be before the clouds split dropped the hammer into the flames of the furnace hardened to the point of brittlity and touched by the power to obliterate into particles to set adrift into the darkness.

NINETEEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{The Inclination}

2010-07-01T01:56:00.000-04:00

two dots smeared on a drop sunk into the top and starting to rot plip plop skip hop skull tock crick crock moving at slow straying from stop flailing in tow of the rising tides globs of sand disappearing under tan blowing in the granules listening to the panning jewels vibrations span the pool and land in hands that brandish tools powered by the plug ensued in suit of branding tongues with tooth
and into the red bled black with swirls streaming from the crack in the color ominous odor fighting with stubble scrapping the muzzle and grinning through troubles tainted by subtle supposition rendered in fat and fattened by fate strangled in safety and pinned against the rail screaming and breaking until the flesh deprived itself of breath until the breath described itself with wet until the wet would weep into flesh seep into sex and excrete itself red
but the hands held the tools
chased by the chasing chain inserted in locks metal scrapes tasted of day antagonized by the rusting sail freedom smelled of lasting impressions and scars healed black with an aftertaste that tasted of crimson tasting lilac
and still pushed forward the backward motion pulling itself behind out of the sky and into the darkness shattering stars with sickness gripping stiffness diamonds cutting diamonds cutting rhinestones cutting themselves down to sizable slices served with cider and ice dripping enticing signs of the second hand in the charcoal smeared across the char and healing
and dealing with the situation at hand

{feed from the trough}

2010-04-12T02:58:00.000-04:00

constrained by the time inside of a plane constrained by a cube the dew dipped deeply into the well of contemplation deeper than the night underneath the stars that stared back into the soul of the eyes of the passing by sideline trying to dine on wine waiting for entertainment to enter its life look at it rise it flirts with its maker and denys itself the satisfaction of satiating itself with itself wimpering at whispers when wits end and twist into a paradoxed padlock placed in praise strained through the collander of corrianer contrary the the quiet ambergris grits and griddles face the fiddle but fight with honor in the situation that you back yourself into out of fear and retreat with pious dignity through the marshlands of sandy beached whales covered in regrets at the past and poachers peddling eggs in a basket looking towards the notice on the satchel scratching the alter altering the faults of the feeble minded.
design by nature by nurturing the pain that panics sanitary sadism bartered and traded in emotions that fleet and fail in the stretches of time elapsed over the hourglass of the heart inverted and dipped in silver quicker than its opposite copied it and return to the urn to fill its particles with meaning to keep the time away from the man who would own it and hide it into slavery castrating liberty with a golden gong ringing of freedom but singing of destituiton entrapped in its own rhetoric cased in its own head its sick with doctoring its own boundaries elasticity of the founding key wrung from wreathes of stale dreams into buckets stuck to their own feet walking on eternity and dragging behind shattered screams.
placed beside the grove the orange roamed in but slammed the door to the canteen door to the box candleabra tasting of userors and studious crimson barons taking railways by storm and designating trails for lore and present baiting fiction to the corn with hints of evening burried inbetween the binding dusted on the alluminum and forged into the river bed pillow and sock coating feet till they burn into soft dust windtorn by doubt.
the direction was lost and without substantial differences implimented the compass returned to its original direction the imminent was upon the dawn and the needle swords would soon pierce the sun but it was to be expected when the distance between the moon and neptune was halved by having a path to follow and the formula was discovered and the novelty wore off.

APRIL TWELVE TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{intrinsically intertwined} [AKA] (memoriesfromlastnight)

2010-02-17T00:51:00.000-05:00

in the aftermath the addition was subtracted from the scented bathing of bodies in each others other. the moistness of flesh with the hardness of flesh with the strength of flesh on its softness. sticking skin on skin cemented humans mortared by their own heat in the wasteland frozen and melting on one side only. bound by cloth obligation and desire to stroke the fire wasting none nor tongues to permeate the elasticity of man. supple supplied sounds of spirit and the spirits on breath were spirited into soul by passage of the throat threatening to take the taste away so sinking teeth like ships into the morsel of opposition resistance and retreat ending in brutal defeat and the conquered took their prisoners with a smile and a sigh signifying the silent screams bottled up and shaken till the bottles begin breaking. stillness in the night. the field flowers where flourished power. wasting. wondering at the intent. the breach. the begining. the scent, always the scent. masked in musk heaved and huffed and breathed in lust. tempting trust. still inclined bathed in light arms inside of arms around torsos connected to shoulders running legs on legs and the valley filled by blood filled blood. nestled and dissolving.

SIXTEEN FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{apatheticattempt} [AKA] (contemplatingcapoteanddeathbyhanging)

2010-02-14T03:17:00.006-05:00

and from the creation the only thing he lacked was a character and in linking words with his tongue he was able to start a sentence in the middle and take a stance on where words stood without betraying their location or intent. the glass on the edge of the window looked like the glass that kissed his forehead and collected the steam from his lungs tainted by passage through his mouth and he tasted still the stillness of his cell. through the light the air shone and rang into his ears like a metaphor that needed no completion and in breaking every rule he broke the silence that betrayed his intention and located his thoughts. outward outward he always looked outward. inward his innards were inert and inept. and the blood crept. from his heart to his extremities pooling around the exit where they burst free from their cage contained in the body that was bought and brought with the air the deepness of red that would fade to brown and soak the air with its presence. and as he laid. it is okay to began a thought out of nowhere but to end it in the same. he would step off the train at the same time and the same place as the instant he became a passenger. and he always shot the messenger. to kill. denial was not something that could be put on tried and judged like the show with jurors in tow paveing the law for future infractions. but only pieces. and he pictured him in his place. and he became the place he wanted most feared interests compounded daily into a single number that would calculate a single act. the most eager door would never be opened but pinned down with a direction it bisects insurrection leading down a path too dangerous for most to follow. and they all fall down. hounded like hounds. with the exclamation mark implied. what a difference a single vowel makes. inhalation caused the condensation to dissipate until he again voided the void in his chest blessed by oxygen stressed by excitement. deeper deeper he felt. wrapped in a quilt. the innumerable muscles required to blink drew upon the syrup spilled to take in that element consumed in the void. and he wondered at the finality of it all. and the continuation after his departure. a friend in the room would ease the pain for the instant and increase the crease on the plane of the continuation after his departure. but it was never flat before hand. and out of the valleys created by the folding mountains grew in inverse and inverted themselves when the plane nosedived the perpendicular. and off their peaks walked feet. falling in the direction that gravity intended to resist. and the kiss on the forehead became a hug on the neck but heaping on the acceleration the condensation condensed its concentration. pooling no longer on the plane of glass that looked like glass it now descended skin that tastes like skin and marinated in its own wastes the salt crept back into darkness. the thrust comes now. a desperate attempt at tying together all of it was in the timing. with a hand of a sailor. knots were not desired but slipped and slided into the insight offered by a falling man. embracing until the crack. of dawn. and a single dot made the consideration fall upon the break. but drained now. and pale. cut loose until the thud. a second fall a second wind. but he could not see either. only felt the moisture. and the warmth of the earth.

FEBRUARY FOURTEEN TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{i donated rocks and toads}

2010-02-07T03:09:00.004-05:00

no vacant lots exist on the path to the novacaine indulgence noted on the last of the token shelter rodents behold us its untold that the story told itself that the wrapping yarn has felled a tree much taller than i undeniably sighing sinking seizing as the forest trees were seeing and reaching into retreat from the recent week of sinks out of the kitchen the ditch in the rich mans back was a hitch for the pitching of a tent for the farce and out of the larks we invented the dark that was draped onto cars and baked into czars raked from our yards and dazed without tars placed in the hardened rented and scared fence laced without paceing the cardinal heart key cant we be starting the newest branch scarf tree into the park for a bench with a bent seat eat eat eat the seal and seal the sealant with a seal and an ant we cant be handled but you grasp us anyways and the only way to be holding trays of steel is with intent to betray so we ran away and tanned the sleigh and pulled our dogs out of the mush into the bush and raised voices without a clear end in the corner of our mind so we let it trail on down the trail we were on and out we let our thought outlet and pluged in the voltage we wrangled and prided ourselves on while we entangled our thoughts in the one fatal watt and our son was soon snowed into plots unto done

SEVEN FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{AND HE CANNOT SLEEP}

2010-02-05T23:32:00.003-05:00

the restless night sounds sleep reside in hidden light lit from the side the back and forth a pendulum swings and as he sings we think he dreams but in his dreams are darkened rooms and in his bloom is sweeping fumes and the swell that rose from the well was imposed on the rose that froze in its well worn stove and baked the pie thrice twice mine in the shape of a heart insecured to the banister when the canister was banished for the menace that the six pence couldnt resend no matter how many times he hit the button and no matter how many times he hit the floor he got up and rose a little higher until the glider that was imagined on to his arms became realistic in its depiction of the action of falling scalding and dissolving resolutions that rang in the ranks of the roof tin stuck in the proof bin and gnawed by the truth sin against the grain of the agents that hate sends into the raked gents and the raped hints that lead to the answer but you couldnt dance her half way to the moon!

and in answer to the question you never imagined the newer model wants for the lack of a starter and egging inside of the nest egg beside her was once stuck inside her and lactated iron directly into the bloodstream until the body turned poison against its own blood and indeed the flood came and solidified stumps of the limbs that remained became sturdier and stronger and lost their limberness and lividity which lived through me until my final breath which was penultimate in retrospect but a bit more potent than the fleeting craft which sailed last out of the harbor on the way to the sideshow where the inventors could peer at it and leer at it and out of their jowls their jaws betrayed themselves and the whelks were whelped with the help of the felt that was spun from the fiber of the stem of the brain and christened in painfully spirited rain until it hit the northern shore of south helpless and the strain on the grains that were planted were restless like the sleeper of the freer of the slaves of our predictions and were layed upon layers of our rotting hot perdition and shoveled into trucks that were driven onto tracks that lead onto rails that were trained to not come back and loads became boats and boats became births in our mothers greatest womb of the worlds nature flute which is played only on days of resentment for our treatment at the hands of our gods who were entered into entries about crimson coated rods and with our sceptors raised high we glanced up to the sky in answer to the questions we never asked to try in a court of law of heart and hardened the castle came tumbling and dumped out its plumbing and the prettiest castle had the shittiest pipes scraped clean by the flys who grew bored of dead eyes and would bore into sites just to lay out their fifes and join into the chorus of the wind marching song and would play right along just to hear their entrance falling and the enticing part of all this was the lack of milk in august when the ranches opened harvest and the ranters sent the farthest of their ideas into the sphere that was straddled and graced with a jeering steering in the right direction and lacking erection the building crumbled from time and disuse rather than the destructive fate that was envisioned by the destroyer who was never mentioned because his opponent had a monopoly on both reason and raisons but great things came from grain before less was made for same and both are offered gaining profits lasting in a chain strung from the start to stringing cars and stinging hardly hurt the scars so we added acid after acrid left and at the ancient axe blade ate our last tray gave about face left the planet placed in ash trays

FIVE FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-TEN

{Designed by desired by designs for desire}

2009-12-19T01:50:00.003-05:00

blink blink the firefly blinked and wink wink the fairy winked and think think i can be beat but sink sink my ship will meet the green green of the ocean floor and no no it wont float no more but oh oh oh what a score on the bowl bowling alleyway door to the gray gray night in the dark and the way way we lit ourselves off and the plays plays that we bit from the books and the seconds hours moments we took and we grope grope for the heat in the cold and we yearn yearn for the rocks in our folds of our fat fatening fat on our laps and we lay lay on tile drink before that and we hold hold each other in arms while we grow grow much farther apart and we sigh sigh at the sight of ourselves and we crash crash like a book without shelves and we ask ask what did we impair when we felt felt at each others cold stare like an ice ice sickle of death while the reap reap reaper still wept for the gain gain gain of his life just to take take take it apart and we know know whats wrong with ourselves but we cant cant ever but dwell on our flaws flaws fatal and sure like the front front front open door that i locked locked in hopes of defering the rob rob robery while it snows in the yard yard the dirt becomes white and and imacculate over night while i sleep sleep visions of you but still me me just alone in my room in the pitch pitch blackness of pitch like a tree burning in vats of pitch while my head head implodes on itself from the lack lack of the feelings ive felt and the heart heart stops anymore all its beat beating itself to bored and the blood blood will flow no more if the pump pumping is not restored but the cane cane became crutches for the insane sane skittle munch dutchman and these words words make sense to the sensless but the same same senses are senile when the game game is over from denial

NINETEEN DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

(BUTWILLSHEEVERKNOW?) [AKA] {casanova rivalry}

2009-12-04T17:06:00.003-05:00

hello sunshine

hello stranger

open wide and taste the tang of sweeter cane than sugar razors

dancing fancy westward trampling dogs and bulls still skipping prancing

burst into the sky we can see

hoist above our heads our hands flee

cast below our feet bleed bent keys

rented scented rusting gently

escape to a world of counter tuition paved dark by perdition, saved larks for incisions

and hark harold still sees in dark but not clearly

our tarps cover windows to souls we see weary

and traveling alone into pastures of tears we

still float down below just much wetter and eerie

and lakes become homes for the cake on the bones

and our fate is unknown but still placed on the phone

we called collect

but couldn't collect

our intellect

still tries to infect

so we dissect

and tried a route more separate

to find out all the business pouches couched but still we sought them out yes!

and out we pulled them! from the boggy bog and breathed foggy fog but we lugged the log till we snugged and snogged and cuddle close to the huddled ghost whose kiss tastes of mist and desserts meant for toasts

and we still want them close

wrapped up to the most we can fit in the blanket

breathe close while youre facing my face and ill thank

it appears out of most of our blood when we drain it that heart cries no more but still shivers and tapers

and comes to a point

with its final thrust

the sword of pure reason had turned it to dust

and broke blade upon blade upon scared winters days and the powder that powered the sun still flowered and bloomed into the blossom that burst into the sky

and we can see

clearly

in the light

and your mouth is unrestrained

and so you call me by That name

and i refrain and i know that you, SEE OUR! why? a end

but not a lend

a gift

from the sifted words of sifted thoughts

and planted hearts that still are soft but hug the earth and moan and cough and dream of forests growing strong and sing their songs and sing their songs

and hope that we can learn their songs and one day maybe sing along.

FOUR DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{the walking contradiction between the heart and the hearth}

2009-12-04T01:52:00.003-05:00

divisive was the rift between the canyon and the cliff but when standing sets adrift a new planning contradicts what the banning began ramming and the scanner deepened hamstring was the fairest fair of good things and from darkness only truth sings so we set adrift an isle of white and curse the day from other sides while harps would play the isles of sighs and freedom sizzles while it fries and fruit would cook itself into a cake and off of a plate would seldom make a dent in harveys steel face and yet i take but cannot give when its too late so split the tab and rip the fabric hit the pads of written tablets reach around the fitted scab slits festering and pooling jabed with wretched were the brittle gnat ticks eating at their only whey fix

cannot wait

cannot fix

canonized and can eject

landing in a planned location

sanding for a deportation

death and dying still relate to

human hearts that freeze and face to pace the race they run against themselves they never win but they always beat a

words

are

just

not

coming

tonight

fin

FOUR DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{poignant was the pigeon who pointed me home}

2009-11-29T23:41:00.005-05:00

deeper darker receding farther than the larger lager larder left for devils sent installments rented halls but never called in favors from the passing past while leaders sent their letters last and interrupting peters fast was sinful to the wrongfull basket hidden casket written jasmine singed by fire and cooled by drastic measures taken borrowed tactics bent and kneeled on the rats land took at once the older tasks hand returned now the broken jazz band master mastered my mistakes and redistributes faltered cakes and bakes and bakes and bakes and bakes but never takes no never takes just sits and bakes and waits and waits but no one ever picks up his phone its all alone on hook of foam and seas will dry you to the bone and toss you froth you justice knows no bounds of bundles books and blunders crooks and nannys soot filled rudder couldnt plan it newer pans he went to the market and couldnt tan it so he ran it all the way home and while he ran he squealed like a swine until his feet crushed wine and denied his eyes the pleasure of crying and tying together like bows of an archer the mowed sudden lawn chair which folded and bronzed hair and knowingly brought there an internal call where the search light was on but was pointed at downstairs and town there was brown bears who embarked on sound fairs and candied their frowns to the end of the mouse hairs reeled in riches but redeemed their vouchers seemingly south there was no more without and with hints of the linen that still was left out he started to pout and reach out and reach out and out and out and out and out without a doubt he reached out and denied of the spout when his grasp firmly planted the screen was rancid and the screams were dancing with cream of cancer feeling answers all the dancers laced their faces and soon were planted picking powder off their tranced lips sipping cider and carving crayon bits wax coat land was selling tar pits wriggling worth from retread rebid enter the entrance and ender of end this the sacreder words still ringing on his lips tingling and singing as breath made them exit and bury and carry the weight of the lost kiss and wait while he bought it and take what youve got kid its just fate if youve got it and if you still had it its lost to the otters who fought for their father and enter the daughter who didnt belong there and radiant plotter was rented for rotten rebarb redeserted retarded the growth and the far hits were worth what we bought it and return now to our kids who still wish for wishes....

TWENTY-NINE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{WHYTHEFUCKAMISTILLAWAKE}

2009-11-06T01:41:00.002-05:00

i wonder where i wander when i open up my eyes

id rather hide away from light and let my spirit fly

and in that instant i instantly saw that the pencil of my mind hard started to carve and got stuck in a groove and what was it doing? i dont write poems i write words that are moving around words that are proving that words that were using are just worth what were fusing and inducing when we inflict them on each other and in their vicinity they become aware of the space that surrounds them and the words that they stand on and hold up and the ones that close in from all sides and every single word was placed into the block after being chopped from the mind and alligned on a pixel fixed with by a sick soul driven by his only drive to be moving and moving and moving and intertwined in the twine that keeps his head around his mind we look and we find that the hair that grew there was just vine kept for barely the sake of bearing the weight of the words he couldnt carry and he dropped them behind him as he ventured into the woods but who ate them and now couldnt return and he never remembered what he dropped and thats all the words that hes got he just stirs them around in a pot and reuses them a whole hell of a lot a hole in hell was the lot that the coal sells for the plot to take over the road out of nod and we are defiling the crimes by assuming the rhyme and line after line after brother shaking line is the only achievement that was ever designed and the self was fulfilled but the price was a dime and we should have just left it on the street in the first place.

SIX NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{fragmentsofboysthatreallymeannothingtonobodyatallnonotevenme}

2009-11-05T01:57:00.003-05:00

i followed in your footsteps

the ones left in the sand

and left behind my own prints

in the places you did stand

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

creeper creeper pumpkin eater took its heart and baked the seeds for long enough to make them crunchy slightly salty slightly pinker throw them at me little horn bees stinging singing while their thorns bleed freeing me from all my organs eating all the pumpkin chortlings

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

the exroom left the exboy in the exworld on his own and etch-a-sketched a neckless freckle trying to make its way home. but wrote it down in lavish poem and scripted screens to film the void

####################

blah blah blah blah

im young

and i have mars

take me take me take me take me

stealing from the candy jars!!!

listen at the doorway listen! hear them hearing us hear them!

tweedle deedle sell the riddle! feedle us a candy thumb!!

@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@

FIVE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{like most of my thoughts incomplete....}

2009-11-02T22:56:00.003-05:00

PART I???

i set adrift a little ship

i sailed it cross the sea

into the waves my oars i dipped

i floated out to sea

and when i was surrounded by

a feeling wet and blue

i leapt right off my ship from high

and dropped into the blue

as i went down the surface rose

so high above my head

but deeper still my body dove

the light was just ahead

and when i grabbed a hold that light

the world below i saw

was filled with stars and their starlight

the world below i saw

i looked back up and there above

was nothing there to see

so i went down much farther down

to see what i could see

the earth came up it met my feet

the rocks below were cold

the destination not concieved

by the waters deep cold

a field sprung up before my eyes

a sun bloomed in a hurry

the warmth caressed my face and i

thought best to leave to hurry

into the shade i leapt i dashed

a grove it grew for me

protected from the rays i crashed

the leaves they fought for me

TWO NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{twofer dofer whatyer usedter flater stiller sinker chose sir}

2009-11-01T18:42:00.003-05:00

tricycle tricycle three circles three sickles three heads of three wheats three barleys three meats three plates for three dinners three lights for one dimmer one cow for six teats and one cone for one treat one street for two feet a hundred battles all defeats one victory ahead in time one desert sands with lines fifteen lines one word one message one hand one fish one plan reddish left tan

remember

observe

return

control

reburn

rehold

rehab

we sold

refab

ricate

describe

relate

too late

soon fate will take its cake that it wont bake and it wont save but it will savor our fading failure and repossess festering funnels of

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Break

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

in thought

in time

but unpublished still

around around the wheel

and grinded finer still

the train jumped the track thinking it could fly but only its smokestacks could ever kiss the sky...

ONE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{for want of a title the plot was lost}

2009-11-01T15:43:00.003-05:00

and into the black stained canvas we proceed for the second time only to have the sheets ripped by the jagged emotions that come from the motions that we wind the key so that we can complete and into the pitfall we rise above ourselves and look down on the places where we have come from and we always return to the places that pain us the most and from our holy mountaintop we drop like birds who have no longer given themselves the desire to flap their wings so we fall and sing as we whistle towards the abyss that our drifting has caused us and be we covered in glitter or gold littered with mud and left in the cold when the pride leaves the lion the lion still sighs and the cat burglars conspire into the deepest of their desires and steal from themselves the only things that they have left and regift it and deepen the pit in which the reaper sits and gleefully gets his musical fits from pulling on the heart strings and blowing through the pipes that were pure until the fires came from within and melted them in to a purely abstract lump of glass that still glistens in its beauty but can no longer function as it was intended and instead it went in to the cold room and condensated tears all over its form for it cuold no longer form the spaces where its eyes had been and that is when the fall began in colors of gold and brown of red and yellow and we all watched as the green died and the trees cried rainbows before they died before they could be reborn once the winter was gone, the winter that had not dawned and the printer of frozen calm would doze the cove into its arms and tinker till it opened small enough to let in light and call out to the ones who stood in stalls behind the doors that banks install and never let out just kept it all in and wanting for skin upon skin wrapped up in or atop of silk or cotton would leave but a trim of the fabric left enough to show you shame as you try to hide behind it and defend your findings before returning to sizing up the world around you while the world inflated its ego behind you and birthed billions of souls who never would find you or touch you or scuff you with coal charred by sinus and still it could blind us with the myriad of triumphs continually denied us and inserted right by us in bodies that would try us and lies that would like us as instead of the egg only shells would crack righteously still so invitingly calmly and brightened me staunchly and so white they seemed like the one prize that we still could not grow to reach and thus i inherited all of the omelets cheese broken and tastes like grease and lays out and still i preach to ears that could never see and yet they still try to read words i could never speak so pouring it out seemed better than spilling these thoughts onto your syringe plunging into decent reaping the coldest winds blowing it back again closing our eyes again rolling on backs again feeling the black come in opening fast to it painting it black again all for the sake of a shake caused by not a wind we see it is just another stained black canvas...

ONE NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{all lights look like cop cars at night}

2009-10-29T01:23:00.003-04:00

and so on the eve of the hall surrounded by lovers within and without i need no other than the one curing drought and the only lover wanted by me is in my fist i grasp him and he starts to sweat on my wrist and his grip is cool and his kisses wet and on my tongue he is warm and he burns in my throat and so from fist to lips to burning desire to sharing that fire and reflections always double so youre never alone we hold each other through the night at least i hold him down inside until he leaves me in the morning somewhat less than i was the night before and somewhat changed for the worse, but my breath still smells of him and his kiss still lingers in the back of my throat and i still long to wrap my hand around his neck and bring him back to my lips and always one more kiss will do the trick i swear this will be it but still i want him more and more and the more of him i have the more i want still until ive had my fill and i cant want i cant feel i cant stand and everything spins all because of him! but still i want him! and still i have him! and for now as he stares back at me i am no longer solitary and he completes me and so i consume him as such but he was like wilde or maybe it was i for love was the cause of the others demise and so with a smile i turn off the light and sleep kindly and warmly and cuddling tight the memory of his cool smooth skin and the firmness of his body and the way he made me feel when he was inside of me and he never grows tired of me and he never fights with me he just tickles me pink and makes me think the things im afraid to think and makes you hear the things i dont want you to hear and always is there to lend me an ear and so ill leave it here and go and enjoy him as long as he's near....

TWENTY-NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{render me your ear or tend to me your fears}

2009-10-27T03:45:00.003-04:00

aaliyah wrote me a four page letter and i need a reason why not to respond....im a drift on a pond of sympathy and doubt and if i sink in the drought ill float on the sands of time surfing through the hourglass and down the bottle neck to the bottom of a bottle while the top of the bottle goes down through the bottom of my neck into the top of my liver like a quiver full of arrows shooting straight into me as i turn to the side making a thousand tunnels through my body and naughty are the thoughts inside of me as i project them onto the stars as they project their light into eternity and when we cease to be we still exist as points of light waiting to be seen light years away and fighting tears away we bite our nearest phase and slip into the stream and thus we dream of the eons that we spent growing strong inside of the primordial pool and the prehistorical schools of thought and the ancient trails that we still walk and the naked tails that weve all lost and the forests through which we were stalked and into the tourists who are unable to walk and so we see with our sights and we flee with our fancies and are altered but slightly and back into the trance we slip into the stream and underwater screams arent even heard by fish just the wishes that we kissed into the past before we relapsed into our state of restless rest where we never progress and never regress we simply exist and are dragged into the future by the wake of time and our eyes are open and our hearts are closed and we always know what passes us by in the waking mind and the sinking body submerged by the mud and the ferns and the moss that redistribute our loss into the life force of the microrganisms who migrate into the nitrous orifice and the process of decay unlocks our nutrients and water us down with the subtle taste of nuclear fission and risk it all on the contamination of our intentions disected with dissension and we never bought we rented and content meant settlement and we were too inflated with the dreams of the failures of our elders and we held on too long to the promise of the prince and the novice and the wrench and we were wrenched free from the log with the bench marked with landmarks and the sand larch was ground into saw dust and sent amongst the raw brush and the cooked combs and the rooked bishop who mistook the queen for her majesty and at last he was free and couldnt see the masks who wore him and the fasting had worn him thin enough to slip through those glass bars like air through water and light through stone and the porous pumice would pour us promises for our tommorrow is loaded with quite and noted as right and still wouldnt fight if we pushed it through a window so we grinned low and soon sowed the seeds of our revenge and watered them with the blood of our rage until we poisoned them with our past and cut them down as the strongest foods ground from the harvest and planted into the star dusted scene painted onto the prisons of our skulls on our souls.....

TWENTY-SEVEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{danger will i bob infinite?}

2009-10-25T14:53:00.004-04:00

THIS THIS THIS this This This THIS this This this this this This This THIS this THIS this this THIS THIS This this this This this

needed to go away

so we sent it away

so we bent it a way

that was not supposed to be bent

we pretend while be bend that we repent for our sins but the signs that were left behind always sign our souls away for the deeds that we see when we execute them

but that wasnt why in the first place either

so we picked up the lamp and the only thing hampering our actions was the traction that held our backs in place against the wall we tried to fall we cried and bawled and all the while we could still smile at the scene we made so we engraved it on our graves before the day when we needed graves to rest for days beyond the nights without a fight we reached for lights we breached our dimes we needed time to find the line to the door to the floor so we dove down and a dove dove up and we drove with our truck to find the luck that we stuck in the muck when we shielded puck from the ruckus up above us wind swept faster than the drugs hit and we sank slower than the growth did for we bottled all our hopes in our glass hearts dipped in soap so they still shine when theyre open we could hold them but we know that they still slip from all the soap scum and they rip when we know them intimately more than boldly for the written words did hold me over lakes that were pouring into the sky all their holdings so the fishes they did swim it down and down toward the warm earth while they floated ever more so outer outer towards the cold birth of the universe of the one I verse of the only me words of a singularity all my own and formed in letters addressed to a sender who returned after stalking the stars looking for mars he took the scenic route incase there was doubt that still crept in your mind like the creeping insides of your creepy insides all those organs denied of all things just light and the only two portals that enter or exit and this is it YES THIS IS IT of all the things that still exist the absence of continuity through the watertight skin that covers your meat that covers your bones that covers the air that used to exist before egg and sperm were united and divided and multiplied into the bloody lump of flesh that was expelled from the same pleasure den that your father was in months counting ten minus the one still ago and here we go here you know and here you go and here you look forward to the same bleeding bliss and lean in for the kiss and reminisce on the future you get when THIS leads to THIS and THIS still IS IT but you cant resist! and youre still tasting that kiss like a cold frosted drift that stings at your lips when the polar masses miss the coldness that theyd get and so they melt and give all that melted ice a drift and sent it out on air destined for your frozen lips and this is the thanks that they get YES THIS IS IT

STILL

THIS

IT!

TWENTY-FIVE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{antithesis anticipation}

2009-10-16T23:54:00.004-04:00

while we lie awake at night we see the inside of our eyes but our insight rightly dies when we limit our demise and so we lie away and think and push our minds right to the brink of breaking in or breaking down or stowing away or starting to drown on the boat that leaves the town and heads for cross the wayward seething turning churning motion of your stomach that you stuck with the rituals of your past that you never were encircled by (it wasn't full it had a hole!) and nonetheless there was none left when we left which is why we left in the first place and turned left at the first race starting gate and we started great but on the way we lost our pace and instead of displacing our speed we misplaced our greed and so we gave too much away and we broke ourselves broke from the fire that took out our lights and our ability to pay the way into heaven so now all we have to barter with is our barbers tits which nicely fit under my chin when he grins i grimace and sting it with the spring ships that we unload with flys which all came out of my eyes in beams of light when i opened them wide and as they came alive im sure something must die or the balance would be all high and the weights would take a dive that we could gamble on dice but each game has its price and every man has his vice and mine was that i couldnt help but look into your eyes and feel the pride and the sighs that emmited from your nice eyes your nice lips your nice face and you phased me into the pace that i needed to at least complete the race but then you left me or i left too and in the aftermath we subtracted laughs from frowns and multiplied by the towns and the times that i chimed into the circle that i squared of at the church for the last slice of the pie that the vicar saids nicer then the cherry that i spied when gaga replyed in double and then thrice and the boom part was nice and thats when i died when i opened my eyes for the very first time and i saw all the light that was absent from the room that i imagined had illuminated my tomb and the rhyme which had loomed since my first posts in tune with the rise of balloons would all but soon pop and make this whole mess stop!

SEVENTEEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Interesting deposits on the side of the lie....}

2009-10-09T18:47:00.004-04:00

and so abandoned in infamy the infant left his family and on the way out he locked the door from the inside before crashing through the window that he had forgotten to open but remembered to lock.

and so we join the pile of rocks that was attacked by flesh so soft that was soaked in its crimson filth that turned brown like the ground on which it sat.

and so defiled was the dirt that held the weight that it gave way into the hole that no one had dug but held so snug a bubble of air.

and so released into the ocean of gas was this bubble at last that burst into unrecognition with its emission from the roots that held it firmly in place.

and at last we could grasp the blast of wind which carried into the window in tiny pieces the tinny steeples with grinning people standing on the edge of infinity and dangling by gravity above the bells and the choir.

but dont perspire for the ending wasnt ended and we only rented so the scented candles were part of the deal

and dont look back now because the past has expired and we at last have it entirely encapsuled in time

and as we fade out into the whiteness and the brightness of the depths of the shallows that we wallowed in when he all fell in we all began to understand what direction we were looking for when the arrow pointed us into the sun,

NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Inverting the eyes of the road}

2009-10-02T23:50:00.005-04:00

silently sitting surrounded by silence

our hero defied his owner of conscious

and into the ocean he would let his conch drift

if only he opened his heart to a prime fist

and so he eloped with his heart on a post

into ropes of his hopes hidden first on his most

treasured possesions and instead of escaping

he bent forward raking the caking of paving

over the last forest that he let grow out of his soiled soil

he wanted to toil but instead was foiled by a lumin and it was soon just sand that he was left surrounded by on his own private island imprisoned by the sirens giving him rising tides and sinking brides that washed up in a pile that killed his smile and left him filing his hold on the past into a brass box polished with silver and pressed with gold but arrested and sold for the market to grow in the name of the tamer of raisers of folds that can wrap and enclose all the things we compose and supposing the rights of the posing were chose? could we still entertain all the rain we expose? and can the lane that we changed still pain us with holes? and pots that sought out the cloud that we plowed in the sky with pride and all the chives that we sprinkled into the wind came back again in the shape of a child shaping his life and squeezing it dry of all the play dough that money can but in the shape of a plane that could push out the sky into the beyond the void that lies above the void that lies above our head that is colored blue by our imagination and our destination that inserts its rations into our booklets without stamps or clamps on our existence. oh no! this is not it! for instead of the pot lick we all stick to the the things we knew best and discarded our best for the things we can rest with comfort in public and faces saved for luck its a satin collar rubbed kiss with a vinyl coated love grip that is rotated at 33 1/3 revolutions per minute while we spin it we sense it has nowhere left to go so we let go and try and hold what we still dont know but at least we know that we know it for show and describe what they told us was bold yes the pleasantly coldness of our hearts as we old ourselves without the aid of a grave to remind us of our past and without a canal to remind us of our birth and our fertile beginings and our ferterlizer ends that our denyed to the cycle by steel we buy we steal our rye and then we die and cannot help but lie inside our house confined on all six sides and all six feet and underneath we moan and cry with mouths not eyes our tears have dried at last but side notes note that we still can find peace with ourselves and our pieces become preachers while peaches plant their seeds and grow into trees that grow peaches that plant their seeds that grow into trees that grow peaches that grow into trees that grow peaches that plant their seeds....

THREE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

(WHERETHEFUCKDIDTHERESTOFMYPOSTGO!!!!) {AKA} {The Jumping Off Point}

2009-08-26T01:44:00.004-04:00

the pomegranate cried tears of blood into my mouth utterly devoid of the liquor that was promised to me by the bottle so i thought ill go take a walk down into the darkest recess of my

THREE SEPTEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

"The Eric Show Episode Two} [AKA] {Insurrection}

2009-07-16T13:58:00.002-04:00

SMASH SMASH SMASH WIN WIN WIN

"This show is now longer profitable."

"This show is my life!"

"Your life is worthless!"

"This show is CANCELED"

"You cant cancel my life!"

"You owe us!"

"I cant pay you!"

"You have a job dont you?"

"This show has put us eight hundred million dollars in debt"

"I just need more time!"

"Times new roman!"

"And the old romans are all dead!"

"So where does that leave you?"

"Like a bunny in the road?"

"Like a balloon ready to burst?"

"Like the forgotten idol that you smashed yourself into trying to run from the pain?"

"Like the piece of shit that you are?"

"Like a dumb kid who doesnt deserve to live?"

"Like a simile beat into the dirt?"

"I can do better! I promise!"

"Its too late now!"

"Youve been sold!"

"You have a new master now"

"But....who...."

"The writers....you should have known it was them alll along"

"They make all the choices."

"We thought you knew this by now..."

"We cant take care of you anymore."

"We dont want you anymore."

"But...."

"Silence!"

"We cease to take responsibility for you."

"The writers make choices now."

"You make mistakes."

"You had your chance."

"Now live with him."

"You fucking piece of shit!"

{the things we}

2009-07-10T04:02:00.004-04:00

the things we craved became things we gave less the things that we saved were no more; we caved.
and now are enslaved by the things (that we made) and the words on the page were the hordes on the grave
we poured out our name and detained and refrained till the frain that we rained could not re it once more
and among all the things that we lacked in our life we soon were to find were inside (at night) of ourself all along
and strung with the tongue that keeps throats at bay and takes down the ships that get carried away into stomachs of storms and seas of deceit that fill up on liquids and hope not disease were taken in stride and once more inside the eyes never cried but the mouth did while lie
on the bed on your head just my head will roll
take you away but you stay take my toll
figure it out cried out the light spout and the waterfall wept full of tyranny and woe
while the little white tiger came up beside her and nipped away at her only small toe
whats in the box cried the fox full of locks that he fed himself during his bout of smallpox
and just on the brink of a sinkhole to plot along came a mink for his coat he got shot
and to top it all off at the bottom of worlds these words do create an escape from words

TEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{tinkerbell tinkerbell break the spell you cast so well }

2009-07-07T03:23:00.002-04:00

long road long night fast car hindsight mistake misplace me in your wake and i will take bonds that you break glasses still fake breathe in deflate
open opt out over done lucks out insane deframe tiger mane next lane cross over merge out sit still still pout take me take out deny your spout
popcorn pop sick noctourne not lit
once upon a time i killed that line
once upon a now is how it happened
once up now down an alley couldnt sadly leave behind the saga i carved in time and time would tell if walls could talk the conversations they'd have would pave miles to be walked by mouths unseen but felt as lips that brushed with fate and candy dipped into the tank of bactal forge reborn in corn and paved with scorn but still the s keeps us from till and till we fill our egos still we kill de ville with rented ills
yes sir
those words are nice
but tell me a story
to get through the night
one about love
about pain
about guilt
and ill read it
deny it
and sell it for quilts become quitters become loaners become gents become loners become quiet become gentile descents become roamers defilled refiled under toner not mint and the spear left in ceaser was unclean if not bent
and still we resist the narrative and fight against the plot that got stuck in the lot of sand mans knot
deny
defend
decrepit
de end

SEVEN JULY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{ how do i feel today?}

2009-07-06T04:37:00.000-04:00

it was on the eve of battle that the soldier saw the sun rising out of darkened hillside blazing raging bringing light onto his face onto the company that he kept onto the company that keeps you till death do you part from your station very stationary sitting waiting for the call to arms and you put a gun on the end of your arm and you sit and you wait and the enemy waits and the man you never met will soon bring your death or you his fighting by moving your finger from a hundred yards away and the struggle that takes place in your mind finds its way out of your eyes and mixes with the blood that you dig and the dirt that you bleed and you mix it into a nice batter and throw it on a griddle and make a pancake of despair and toil and bake to the soil that you came from and you take to when you wake when you wont wake when you bake in your son's heart that stands alert that pumps the dirt that you dug and snugly you slept in its arms in the wound you created on mother earths side like the wound you came out of with your own mothers pride after your father decided that time was ripened and the stipend received was unequivicated by the brightness from your knees as you prayed and you prayed to be off your knees and off the street and undiseased and under heat and heeded for the dough you kneeded and needed for the dough you bring in and bleeding for the ones you need to need you want you bought you lost you lost them want them back but cant and wont become the things you broke and under dressed to come unclothed for fortune smiled at words unwrote and understand the things i spoke when under you my pen was broke is still uninked but prepped to go to war on words that never hope to write themselves without destroying the warring of the one ring from the one phone that kept you from my lone that never was undone that cant win but still won and our fun was undone and one sung for two buns that kept you from my none!

and all the while the sun rose and all the while the earth grew colder from the heat that was sucked out of the wounds that we dug to keep ourselves warm to drown us in the storm but all the while the day grew and the men shrunk and as the world turned we looked at it from outerspace and the world we saw below was insignificant in its beauty and we beheld it and were insignificant as its suitors and we saw it in its entirety and the one man in the one battle that had not been fought between the two countries led by two men controlling millions of people on one planet in one system in one galaxy in one universe in two verses written by one man were all contained by nothing more than flesh pressing plastic triggering electrons slowly degrading through entropy which meant more to me than the seven seas and the four oceans and the one blue planet that made so many glasses of wine which came down to one bag in one box and one extra large glass from that box which was consumed by the same man who contained a universe containing etcetera into one grape and left the rest for the liver to filter out into his piss.

JULY SIX TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{ugh}

2009-06-30T02:21:00.003-04:00

Alex: Pompous, Idiotic, Egocentric, Cunt Eating, Ogre Feces Sucking, Hidious, Insignificant, Tart

Hayley: Brilliant, Euphoric, Artistic, Universally Tantalizing, Idolatrous, Fountain of Undying Love

THIRTY-JUNE-TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

douchebag DOUCHEBAG!

2009-06-29T01:16:00.002-04:00

i hate alex malex alrex spalex talex palex kalex

and hayley rayley rayley tayley mayley nayley

<3,

eric bo beric a nanan fo feric mi may mo meric ERIC!

{The little boy who grew wings}

2009-06-23T16:37:00.000-04:00

In the distant land of not quite here a boy awoke with streaming tears and cried to see the other side of Mount Betweena's snowy slide.
He slept at night, at least he tried. He dimmed the lights and closed his eyes, but always from the great outside, Betweena's peak held untold trials.
The sun came up on him one day and smiled light into his face and as he rose his body ached and burst around he turned and faced his mirror he saw had replaced his arms with wings of gold and lace.
From his room he sprinted fast, to cross the peak for once at last, all his dreams would be surpassed and soon the mountain would be passed.
He climbed the path, became a hill, became a slope, but higher still Betweena's tip expressed its will, to not be crossed by dreams fulfilled.
He passed the places he had passed on every day that had come before and reached the cliff where he stopped before and spread his wings out ready to soar into the distance, future, and lore!
But as he stooped, preparing to leap, he looked out, down, beyond past the peak, the beyond to him looked suddenly bleak and no longer did he desire to reach.
The blizzard came fast, it came from the east, the first thing it froze was the boy and his feet, solidified ice still stuck on the peak, the golden winged boy still ready to leap.

Not in the distance lay honey and milk, wrapped in silver, placed on platters, and covered with silk.
Often to honey would milk go and say, "This silver existence is awfully lame! I want to be covered by gold covered lace! Put an end to all of this dreary gray haze."
To which, each time honey would say "Honey just wait, tomorrow's the day. From over the mountains, we shall be saved."

But back on the mountains our hero, unstuck, unfrozen, unable, to blame it on luck, slowly begins, his wings to retuck and return to the village, down in the mud.

This is the end, for now, of Part 1

TWENTY-THREE JUNE TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{build a baren crib for karen}

2009-06-17T02:21:00.000-04:00

owls of the night or early morning seldom take flight unless for scoring hunted and flightless mouthfuls pouring into the sight of sudden touring into the night and early morning played with the height and than deformed internally moistened by the joining rejected out for somebodys learning torn and defaced and replaced and than tapered, scalded and welded and portraits on paper, placed in preface pretends our creator who looks at the lake and lets loose all the hate for mankind is unkind and this kind of a line is undrawn in the land and defined by our hands ability to take and to shape but to make is to break to become to be done and we gunned down the fun just for fun and were left with a handle that was handed upon us and phonics made pheonix become placed between us and we burned in the fire just because we could see this and out of our ashes he rebore himself and left us for destructed and debased before we were revased and cremased and shown to the floor by the fist and the broom and the bag and the drawer that was drawn like the curtains were inked liked the squid that was squeezed into homages done by a kid who could raise quite so proudly the things that he did while refraining detaining the sounds of the grid and the lines and the dots that were plotted against him on plots placed on top of the twin city basement with bargains below that were blown out before that would incite the type that would incite a war that would invest in copper and rejoin the four who would take over westward before moving forward and thrust like the just who would come when they please to be inducted conducted and fought for by trees for the sake of the oak and the place of disease that was floating above us like floating like me like floaters and boaters and strong chimney sweeps who keep us in tow and in town we defrown the unhappiest clown and make aces on faces that give us unsound and unlighten the darkness so sober can see to become one with sun and two left with me left me with myself and myself left with grief and ontop of old smokey we still found the cheese.

SIX JUNE TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

"The Eric Show Episode ONE"

2009-06-05T14:45:00.002-04:00

SLASH SLASH SLASH GRIN GRIN GRIN

I was all alone. And you were there. I opened the drawer and let in the light. The colors surrounded me at the apex of understanding and strangled the darkness and I cannot breathe. And than I realize that none of it exists and I awake content, outside the screen. She smiles as she holds my dreams over my head. I look up and say "Don't". She turns on the light and I disappear. Reappear in a bottle. She reads me and sets me free.

"Why do balloons burst when there is too much air?"

"Why do you ask stupid questions?"

"Why do you make words hurt?"

"Feelings are just lies we tell ourselves so that we can pretend to have purpose in life."

"Why are you so alone?"

"Why are you so weak?"

"You think you are all powerful!"

"We are."

"Than I guess you don't need these anymore..."

"Do what you think you have to, but remember, I am still here...."

"I won't"

"THAN DO IT ALREADY!"

The sun falls, and again a thousand tinier ones take its place and stare into my head. Each one projecting its death upon me until I supernova. This world is too concerned with its blue and its green. And always she is there. And she wants to take it from me.

{jiggle my nickels! ill tickle your sickle!}

2009-06-02T04:13:00.000-04:00

waiting on the eve of the day to look outside and fade away into sunlight scared of day: sacred playgrounds hideaway
long trip, once slipped, more than that but only tipped, soon ripped, glisten sip, squeam and squirm and firmly grip
consume, your womb, swipe the nightly entrance june, denied still i try to open up my bitter eyes
why write why fight, its all the same night after night, out play, out say, outside, you stay away
emote, demote, we wrote, rewrote, we wrought, i sought, lets play, i fought
oh yes, i guess, we tried, our best, we made our nest, thats when you left
no words, just move, dont feel, dont use, dont make me say what i wont do

now that thats out of my system wipe the page and let me glisten dazzle you with glittery words that sparkle, darker, HARK! Yer Gold! In fox, in trot in plots of dots connected by a sailboat lock, intergallactic, radioactive, plastic coated waxy masked men! take me bake me into fast wins planted in the planets sad winds winding grinding losing siding sighting on the british ivy, break a bat to boast a boot, and lose your lab to let it loose, but slip it neatly into noose, and nose your nuts into caboose! kits and kindles leaking lentils, rush more beets to quentin hindle, break a promise than resend youll make your way with nothing mend all!

WHAT
AM
I
SAY!

Story time! Little boys and girls! so sit on your stools and let down your curls! we want to make Marry tell Mike about Bikes that get stolen by dykes who get pulled in the night!
So Marry told Bobby, told Rachel, told Sue, who told Steven, and Jerry, And his brother Lou, but noone told Mike and the dykes stole his bike so he went off to England and got him a pike and a pied pipers pipe but they ate out of lemons that they flew on kites, and into the breeze blew the words that hed write about the magical story of Unicorn Ike:
Ike the unicorn knew hed sooner scorn tykes who uniformly told him the way
that Ike as a Unicorn would much like a tuna corn wrapped in a piece of horn key lime soufflé
Ike got ripe and grabbed the knife and hid it deep in Simons eyes not once not twice but twenty nine ice
cold scabs could be grown inside of each slice
woe is me cried the miser tree!
Woah look at me! cried the slide with glee
Simon could cry but died to flee
the crime committed against manity
but hu was on break so the sea cows came late
to the rape of the great ike who sat on a plate
why oh why oh why oh why
didnt the planters pretend they grew pie
were the last words cried by the unicorn ike
these were the words that mike declared right
in the eyes of the masterful mistress of night

WHAT
WHAT
WHAT
AM
I
SAY!!!!

deny! deny! the self thy prize!
the price is high but the payment is right!
and instead of depending on ending in bed
put instead on your head a piece of white bread!!
pour it all out and than live without
i cannot pretend that i like what i felt
when i poured it all out
and with letters i SHOUT
but whats it about i say whats it ABOUT!!!

TWO JUNE TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Junipers sooner your lunar clipped tubular}

2009-05-29T16:25:00.000-04:00

I
CLIMBED
OVER the walrus it just got raw this urbanite sprawl kiss floating on straw mist playing with fall gliss floating through breeze on an clementine jaw hit couldnt keep all his concepts in mall bits standing in line with a present day brawl tip took out of context couldnt keep convexed concaved the rest and crest was in time flex but jesting with rest and the test of the best was the standing abreast to the crest of the CREST!!!

I
JUMPED
INTO a girrafe it couldnt help to laugh at the staff on my raft as i floated adraft into seas of receipts with recpient treats treating me treating he treated to it by the and the key to success was unlocked in a door and padlocked by more than a saddened decour that was sure to become the most dorable door that did dorn micheal tore at the thorn of the corn and with pricks he was plucked and the crows that did suck from the wounded would wound while wound round a tomb into rooms where the bloom was decided to groom for the groom didnt plan to dip in so SOON!

I
RAN
AT my coyote it pleasantly drove me afar on the gold sea and seeing how boldly the road that it sold me was kept inside two trees that werent even hoping for timberlakes scolding or scalding by maudling and medling in nesting but cresting on destiny deserted desperately tested in vests into secretive pressed white teas left inside your disease pulled too hard left to squeeze invited chests by these unopened deputys dropped out of desert trees plopped on to your left knee dropped on your socks i said yes please yes PLEASE!!!!

I
SWAM
AWAY with a dolphin that waddled at golfing with fin he began to descend into balding and eagles were calling long distance from spalding that ruffled a waffle and wept at a LOGGING!!

TWENTY-NINE MAY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{IT SMELLS LIKE APPLE JUICE!!!}

2009-05-11T12:30:00.000-04:00

the gerbil devoured a sandwhich of which ant bitch ate off and which canned fish planned this to sand tips and land ticks what the band rips and when we land it like we handed offten ranted seldom scanted took the plant in sheltered cran which man made manwich manish man wish whats in a man that isnt a man and who is the man who held out his hands who planted his trance who ate of the dance and lapped of the prance that the prince fade into lance and joust and cat o nine held out mine into the mine shaft stonewalls next but never the new emporer we always knew of her she was the queen who never ruled and who couldnt pool the people into the pull of gravity who had it all but smashed it mad at me and didnt want what she had had and he hadnt waited longer than raggedy and the goddamn plan went out of whack and we had to throw it back into the trash that passed and wafts into the breeze where the sleeze of the air devours the showers of hours and hurdles hate backwards into its stream up until the present is backwashed with the last lofts of historys planned rennovations we always go back to the plan goddamn but what happened to the plan oh man!!!!
why would a fellow want a girl like her? a girl whos merely lovely!!!
why the fuck would you even once concour to continue singing songs that have past into the past and past the expiration date red hatred scathed dead and played feds for the narcs but couldnt BARK THE LARK!!!
no meaning and no consense but census yes and seizure yes and coruption yes and maybe no but we still dont know where to go where where where do i go and i cocentrically loop like a record that records the wrecks of words that stream through my arms and dont stop before my brain or after my finger tips until i smash the letters back into my brain to try and drain the constraining containment of consciousness that we dont want to let free but left it dead and fleed and we were freed of our deeds that we plead to heed to some higher power than our own so we stand on our heads and look into a mirror and are confronted with ourself confronting the postulate from opposing angles and cancel ourselves out and we strain to be brought back into existance but fail at failing and end up derailling this goddamn train of thought that paid to get out at the plot of land that we still have not defined the plan the plan yes the goddamn fucking plan!!!
what of this plan said the man who cant perform and the actors smiled at him and defiled him with words of action and the poets thought of him and defiled him with actions of words and the man looked behind him and saw the image of you disapearing into the mirror and clearer and clearer than clearasil made by desaturating your face with a peel away effect stood proudly errect and declared to the world that he was rid of the weakness that grew without him and within his chin grew a grin and a smile but still he was defiled and deflated and the woman who had waited had died of boredom and scored some valium before she rallied them into her mouth and out of her south came the north that he craved and when he reached nanook he found out that he had the goddamn plan the whole goddamn time but too bad because he got eaten by an orca who planted orchids for orchistras and what the hell does any of it mean he cried and than he died because of the convienance of rhyme and slime grew over him and he became permafrost and all was lost into the grey disgust that is city snow and now you know the story of the man who existed to exist in my story and his quarry that he left the the quails who quarrel with quasars and pulsar pigeons who put their pick in stuck the stick in lucked with linked in but still have stinkin parcels partnered with their ankles and plumit quickly into the sand where their packages become peaceful with the afterlife and the pigeons get stepped on by the children who played in the box and all the kids like sue and jill and jack and sam get together the pieces of the pigeon and they piece together the plan oh yes the plan! the goddamn fucking pigeon plan that nanook gave to the pigeons before he became devoured by a carnivorus idol of freedom that flew and inside of the gastronomy we find the last want of the man who had the plan all along and his wishes were that the fishes take over the plan but we canned the damned fish in the first line of this and again fall into the trap of cyclical creation and devestated the epoch that was squandered from craigslist to do the dishes goddamn it do the dishes do the
GOD
DAMN
DISHES!!!!

FIVE MAY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{ these count for today but only because im tired..}

2009-05-11T12:28:00.000-04:00

One's upon a tie, my two was three fork hindsight i five rhymed right

together my eyes are opening and closing like muddled masts. i will be forced to cut them down in time.
fictional subconscious seeps through into a shakily vivid sphere. i confuse its field with actuality.
distinctive and familiar, feign faces speak in twisted tongues. there are no words, just harbored lips.
the limbs i carry cannot take flight as i uncontrollably sail above. winds can only take me so far.
defeated or victorious, i look up to my only destination. the sky falls below, taking my trust with it.
i cannot tell what is a dream or a distant memory. i cannot be judged without a name.

- Aelnaxedr MuCdrcy?

WritersChoices said...

But I can sentence you without shame and place in you my blame! and a name to your game is the name you have slain you have maimed you have tamed and displayed as your personal pet but were better off yet with the letters still wet from the internal pen dipped in your soul that pees black that glees at all of that that you leave in that sack of a body of bones that contain meat that reaps meaning for me from the tissues for issues of the disuse of kiss you cannot, miss you, cannot wish you but will this do? yes will this do! yes will this do!!

FIVE MARCH TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

>Waxing?< {a gift of words}

2009-05-10T13:24:00.000-04:00

Black! Black! The sky is black! Crescent, dots, window plots, open heart and open plane for open eyes to open gaze on circle dots moon plots moon dots moon hots shot caught shot. not. please me. please me. pick me. please me trick me freeze me nothing less than melt me felt me yes the sun sleeps when I shelter do not moon waves when nights start fade when lights grow haze when haze grows haste when haste breaks hope when hope is lost by lost crossed lost not lost here lost times lost is LOSTXLOST! and drawn across the hand that holds the pen that grasps the hope that gasps but where did it go and where did it get to why is it lost and does it have friends who hope that its heart is heavy with health who rebuild all the shelves that deter from the shells that shelters will dwell when the dread lies ahead of your pillow in bed and your head is consumed by the sounds of your room and the sights without lights and the shades of the night when we shake not from fright but from possibilities inside of ourselves from the shelf that is our self that the H is before I but after I is J and after me is who? and after you? that too? can we contain? can we restrain? can we refrain? can we abstain? can we be trained! and in training is straining of the mind or the soul the desirable hole to enter below before we shall blow before we shall know before we can go where we go when we know we are known and in knowing are we showing? what were showing isnt growing but it is rowing and it is flowing and the flow that has fled from my head to my bed is it best to be bettered by butter or batter or to bat her with a saturday that is saturated with sadness and hate or to sit back and wait to hear the delay but never the presence? the resonance is recent and is combined with a line from a much older rhyme a rhyme about rhyme that we rhyme with a rhyme for the sake of its self is the sell that we failed, but if you teach me i will have been taught and if you learn me I will have been learned and in learning we are all turned into the one thing that we all yearn and is it knowledge or bliss for itself? can we decide which desire to shelve? can we divide ourselves from the shelves? for the shelves are just storage for things we can't sell and the sill of the window is dirty as well but not as a well oh well oh well well well we were well before we fell ill and doubted our health for the heathens have happened upon their own hell and have opened the doorway from heaven to yell what they followed with their falling from the places they dwell and the cabs that they hailed were nailed to untell of the stories of hail they hailed from above from the heavens where hail was below the suds of the soap that the burped from clouds filled with love and sent rounds off the sounds of the clouded undones in doing what wasnt what wasnt it dumb what wasnt it young wont wouldnt it come back to wonderful want and wondering what it wouldnt wait wasnt the worst way to while the day for a day for a dollar for a dollop for a doll drop for a pall bared by bears in garb of others wrought hard wouldnt ought to think yards of miles of inches between the belted loop orien waxed wanting to be in the heavans in the stars in the dark in the night out of sight but in sight when alone for miles for darkness that seperates is darkness that reveals and darkened was the end of the spaces concealed and cornered and quivering stars that would quiver in dark and quit when the lark would swallow the dark and the black black black night was not night not right not night full of sight seeing in sight but what was sought in the sight was thought lost in the light? where did the night go how does the moon know white moon right moon black night nice night rich night night night black black black black night black black black black black sky blackend black by!

THREE MARCH TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

>E2P1< (IAMTHEWRITERBITCH) [AKA] {The main character becomes sentient}

2009-05-09T12:50:00.000-04:00

FLASH FLASH SPIN SPIN SPIN than perhaps a flash again?
eyes open eyes closed cameras on ready to roll out roll in spin spin spin spin flash of genius? flash in the plan? flashes before the fashion is planned and paved and put in place by pretense pretending it previews the pace but fast and steady will always win the race but if he gets to the end before my writers make their choices what will his voice be? will he move towards me? shelves can always be just starting of worries but winter will dwindle the hearth and the farthings apartheid from parts of the art held by something inside shelves and always the green shelves the blue shelves the red and the seen shelves are the known shelves but what about the ones behind the wall? we shall write them away as the writers make their choices for we are the writers whos choices are choice and decisions decide and the boisterous boy who will boast while he hosts the internets posts are the the posts of the ghosts of the girls who had curls but than ironed them straight straighter straightish mail dont call me reference is lost on me and my whale put pails in the pile and behind words we can hide and behind hides we have sights that are fixed in the distance of vast difference and past inference because we MUST SEE WHO PREVAILS ON THE OTHER SIDE! caps lock is okay but he refers to himself in the third person as the first person he sees by the last person to be in the space out of space in the basement is raced by the attic and neither will win because the front door is the only one that can move and it swings ahead to a stunning victory over the shutters who can only run sideways and their blinds will be drawn and painted and sculpted and detoured through the mist of the falling water that escalades and brings ice fades and melts with days in the sun that opens eyes and f stop up change the film stock while eyes are shut edit during sleep play back in words but change the identity unless you stay there long enough than you shall know and haha oh he knows by now he must know but what does he know he surely must know! or is that a question? that is the question! and a smiley face is always appropriate when you know something for knowledge contains the promise of ignorance which we are told is blissful but dismissful of actuallity and causality depend on allity but what is the alli to do ity bity to bite me but if you just see through the cameras can you see what the show will look like in the end? can you hear the soundtrack can you smell the filters that burn when you inhale and can you taste them as they fail? and isnt failure sweet when ends meet and the cycle begins again? can it began? or has it? or will it? the vowel changes everything so a i u whats it to you can you change time with a vowel? for the writers can and these are the choices that we have to make and we shall make them! and where we shall place you is placed in a word and that world is your world and the world is contained in the borders of a page so regardless that it is missing a door, the door is not important not important any more that it won the race not important that it contains a face not important that it is out of place for the door was destroyed to make way for the page and from its chips we made the pulp that made the page and from the ashes we made the ink and that barrier that could swing became a vehicle that you could drive in or be driven in through my words and my words would wake and break the door that still stood but since there is no page there is only light where did the wood go? where did the ink go? the words still exist for you can see them and you are reading them but they have not been written for there is no where to write only space to type but to type and to write are two different things and what does each mean? do they both create words? what is a word can you touch it and taste it for i have tasted the letters in alphabet soup and have eaten that 26 sided die that controls your life but peer deeper inside behind the light and you will see the bright is controlled by sight and the sight that sees is important to read to interpret so the light that is a word is sight that is heard by your eyes from inside of a box from a top of your lap or your desk and a lot of information is contained within that soup that is a sound that surrounds with our without a head phone or a face phone or an ear phone or an eye phone or a sky phone that can talk to the clouds that cover and the clouds that weather and the clouds that cleverly clear the cliffs of endeavors of the soul who was sulking in a skull by the gully and when fully aware of his tears he would tear the paper upon which he had written with words the letters of old to the readers of new and wrapped them in glass and dropped them into a whole that would later fall apart like the parts of the glass that contained the parts of the letter that contained parts of the words that contained parts of the letters that contained parts of the lines that contained parts of the ink that contained charred parts of the door that was ripped apart when we sealed you in this worlds and gave you those eyes so that you could see and gave you those ears so you could breathe and you can appreciate where weve been for our beans were not lean but fatty and green like the stalk of the bean that jack took up jean when she was asleep and could no longer breathe for she had no ears and no arms to fight back with and her mouth was full so she could not scream as she was engulfed by the gulf and bay took her away and away she sailed tell the whale with his pale came back from the pile and smiled and smiled and smiled and smiled.

TWENTY-EIGHT FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{Valet(ntines) Day}

2009-05-08T14:17:00.000-04:00

{

A hand on the small of

the back, a light touch

that none sees but him,

and her, and me, a guitar

a boy a girl

All these things are in front

of me.

Today I offered my seat

on the metro to an

elderly lady. This afternoon

my copy of Jack Kerouacs's

On the road was stolen.

What I had gained in

( ) friendship I have

lost in literatrure. the

exchange seems fair to

me.

A liter of sprite, 2 large

fries, a butterfingersbar

these things I have bought.

Later this afternoon

these things I have made

The Valet Parker

Runs like lives will be

at stake

It's for three dollars

The guitar goes into

the case. The Case

goes On the floor.

The arm goes around

the shoulder.

They do not leave

the Train.

The girls dress alike.

From behind they look

the saMe. They are

back twins.

A girl sits behind me

and now beside me.

She has not moved.

Occasionally she snaps.

}

{

Somebody dabbed

butter all along the

top of the parking

garage and now I can

see.

A Bentley zooms past me

at the light.

My Hyundai could take him

}

TWENTY-ONE FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

(monetarymeltdown) [AKA] {beat beat on the drum beat beat tell i come}

2009-05-06T19:07:00.000-04:00

once upon a moonlight glory sun told star shine quite a story full of anger hate and rage contained constrained and dipped with sage and rolled in butter and fried all up the sun took up a slimy cup a cup of warmth and tears of joy that tasted salty like a toy a toy for boys is not for yois
i dont know i dont know i dont know cried the three headed crow
cut off a head it still isnt dead!
ABCD what do these words mean to me?
inSIDE outPIED deLIED soldified
once upon a stardust backdrop cupid died and on his back flopped
would you like a cup of tea?
brewed from oranges and deciet?
or would you like a while instead?
whats in its hile is quiet dread!
and in the dread is something red!
something made of cotton fed, rotting headed, jotting bedded, nodding said it wasnt risen for the roses dozen of them counted moses on the mountain made of snow his piss was yellow only frozen once but twice was under trodden trident tried to rent the center for the purpose of dissention strewn through hems to rim the golden only otters take their tokens for the bus of busted ropes and buster better bus the togas towards the tables tossed in tarter tasting trails of toucan totters tates of late will clean the plate of rusted rakes and busted fakes who bussed the rust and rested the rest while the rest went out and festered and smelt of smut and of smoot and they ate what they took but what took what they take wasnt taken abate and the rectified nanas went abso bananas for regans most banaly bentwardly raisins
a raisin is a reason of a raised son to make treason on the meaning of the scene in which the reason rest on reason!
grease the gaffle grease the gun plug it up but just for fun take out all the nuts and bolts replace them with your dreams and hopes and tighten quite the holds and steady ready for the shaken teddy who rapes the grapes who all seem petty to the wines of older levy
levy levi levitate hold the leaves and shake the rake and stamp your feet if you feel so inclined as long as once you are not mine...

EIGHT FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-NINE

{RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARgh}

2009-05-04T15:15:00.000-04:00

hot mess got stress all the rest i must confess is festering and jestering and pestering to get pets but pets became the pests we crave and in their name we gave their pledge except the rain that drowned my hedge inside the brain that found my leg

chop it off on the block put it on a chimney rock sink into the ocean brown and watch the seaweed watch you drown
put it in a hair tie put your head in to a rare tie stroke a silky smooth guy while waiting on the french fry
hot potato save for later get your self a selfless hater
put him in a wooden box atop a spot of pointed knocks
knock on wood and wood will knock on you on top of pointy socks
while someone points with pointed cocks the top will block the sacred box
but open up and step inside umbrellas for the widowed bride whos window we shut open wide with stones of bridges always cried
we crossed the bridge we spent a ridge for cliffs of id my ego waited superbly my new herb squeeze will play out three of stirred them please
we play a game we ate the same thing we ate each on yesterday while chester waits for lesters game of gayful gleaming gains
hot mess play a game of chess play it on my chest while were looking for my breasts
my breasts are ripe when theyre in sight but sightly seems to sink in deep
so what visit my hut stay in a rut while i gut you
i wont hold it on you but against me with you stuck inside me
once we ate glee while you spit food at the brown tree that died nightly from the tide
windows close on open doors which close on lawns of green
so fertalize while inside dies to kill the outdoor just some more
hot heat a/c turns me on when it gets cold so i warm it up and savor the cusp of realitys rating raked leaves
hammer head hammered bed calls my name but never finds me deep sleep canned meat cant eat the rinds
rising sun get a gun shoot a head and skillful meds

FIFTEEN DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(alcoholpluswritingequalsfail) [AKA] {why why why why apple pie makes me sigh}

2009-05-03T02:33:00.000-04:00

cannot try to eat the pie for slices slice me six ways slimy climbing higher rising faster than the filling cabinets finding lost inside the folder holder man killer manilla vancouver stand hoover suck screwed yer next pluto just food for fodder thought lots is locked behind the brain cant access without a pass thats good and unconstrained not tonight took a flight fell to fast flapped so hard took the bottle smashed too hard its over

TWELVE DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{skim it off the top but top it off a lot}

2009-05-01T14:02:00.000-04:00

napalms nectar mistletoes miscariage missed the carraige to misses sarahs sarah said her toes were red and didnt want to wet them
flour the corn deflower your horn power is born when showers are storms and when sores are not sour and jowls are not foul but the fairgrounds howl at the dawn of the moon
minuet mini tete plate of scepter cape is festered laced with resperation flighty sanctions werent invasions simply gradients
black to white from left to right and right at sight we left the night and took the day and stole the way that we took back to sodom's play
hope you have a happy ending hope the story wasnt gory tori tormented cory with percible's new jaw
jaw bone telephone picked up one on the way home
dropped it off at aunties shop and paid me for my troubles
me me me me all about me always just me broke my troubled shattered dusty frontal running protrude scuff me
hear the sine and hear the wave but cosign for my doctors slave in and out without a doubt a play on time for once in his life
intertwixt and intertwined and enter twix with cookies tied to chocolate and the caramel ice cream caramel right scenes scare odell but not when he has fare to sail on boats and coats will run with tails
hickory dickory fickory dock we did that already so smoked with a clock the hickory wood was out numbered by flames and the parting part pardoned the party today
in a shameful play for fame the crocodile ate his only mane for which he saved a scathing raid on tigers temples twisted tang

SEVEN DECEMEBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(emotionsthatrushinwhenyoufindyourfriendinyourboyfriend) [AKA] {ouch ouch ouch ouch the couch the bed the heart the mouth...}

2009-04-28T20:41:00.000-04:00

treachery deceit, discreetful deceit, displacement deceased entanglement with me injection with he interning with trees and plowing disease and placing in me what i placed into thee but knowing what he is inside of with thee with i watch upon the watchtowers believed to have bled its heart into the sea and washed out salted baltimore me and replaced in its place a piece of the three that remain down below and in heaven it snows so soft and so white and its awkward at night when you witness the fight and then flight is the instinct that takes down your mind and your body goes down and four floors you go down and the sounds in your mind and the sounds from your mouth are both soon drowned out by the drowning of drought and the doubt starts to grow and it slowly will toll and will tax and it smacks you in the face for its lack of a statement and great men will be beaten while the weak will still grow and ever closer to the end when we know and can look back and laugh like we did in the streets when we were awake when we should be asleep and the words we said then are unknown but to win them back we must plan our attack the assault begins when the deed began but we want no war and you play with your whore while i slam the door: in my mind: not this time. this time is extremely like we said before when we tried to close the door and you cried over freshmen while i lead you back to his den which was your den and just then when i couldnt open up the door and i knocked ever softly incase you didnt answer and answer you didnt because of the insect that was biting you down and strapping you up and throwing you down and slurping you up and sticking it in and feeling you up and looking me down and sizing me up and you listened so closely but from so far away and ever i question your motives that day and the book for the cook what was its place and the days i was away just made it easy but the days i am back now you will lack the thing that is me but in my place he will place his piece inside for free he charges no fee soon will move on and still youll lack me and wouldnt you see that the night isnt dark when we drive without speed and deep inside art we know were apart and years before gears will start taking a part of me apart ap art taught me nothing that i couldnt teach to myself and we know we must dwell to drill into our souls and mine black gold from my blackened heart and profit on our pity of ourselves for the riches are never ending when you own the wells and the refineries but finer then me was the shortstack and three eggs scrambled while the syrup soaked up the butter and he cut her waffles with watchful eyes and she wouldnt deny and it was all extremely fine for the fork in the knife and the spoon could not lie and so it fled and fell off the table and the metaphor wrapped itself in upon itself and repeated itself inside of itself and soon the shelf couldnt be held up by words alone because the words were to heavy and the cupboard grew weary of the repetition that was within and without a doubt it gave itself out and fell flat about the remains of its southern regions that soon would heave again and ill see you later is what it said and only the triangle would laugh for it was the most sturdy structure in nature but when it is inverted and isosceles it is extremely volatile and will start its trial internally for the interns that we sent to the trees were soon made to see that only growth could become of deceit and only souls would loose their comfy cushions against the heart and soon the thrusts would be pushed into the plushness of the flesh that came quicker then the bread that took days to make and an hour to bake and so thus the conversation said

hello are you in there
this is awkward
extremely
ill see you later

SIX DECEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{tonights head lights tomorrows bed fights}

2009-04-27T16:48:00.000-04:00

thoughts pool like cess inside of me
words swirl around and contaminate the purity of my existence
and then i wake up from my delusions of poetry, i stand errect at the window and glance below at the people, slow lee walks across the road followed by the shadow of growth and the lights of hindsight with the tail lights in reverse but the skip card was played before hand and we no longer go behind us to the answers from our past and the answers from our future havent reached us yet because they went by snail mail which was in deed to slow but in print too crisp and in passing too fastly but too much past me and too much lost me or i lost it but this is it and this is what ive got and ive thought and ive thought and ive sought and my cot is like ice my thoughts are like hot my thinking is just not and my mind is in knots but this is what ive got and by god ive got a lot but inside of my pod is a fee thats a lot like me but not me and not she and not the answer so the answer must not be inside myself inside a pod inside my mind so where can i find the answer that never got here by post the most we can hope for is that the friar didnt switch the poison with the elixer so hell fix her but fix me a sentance for insistence of indifference to my passing on the road a casting of a most unfortunate person who played the piano partialy exposed

TWENTY-FOUR NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(iturntwentyinninteenhours) [AKA] {super nintendo sega genesis}

2009-04-24T01:04:00.000-04:00

standing at the center of a sentence my pretencions gains a presence hates the reverence takes the reverend only then can we end what the people must begin can we vote and can we hope to vote on hoping can we toke or can we joke about the only place were roping not the same as the ending of the ends that were frayed still we gave the slave a grave and took him to the page
my mind works wonders and my rhyme twerks others but the time that i devote to my life isnt smothered by the line that holds me tight to the other end of life and i keep pulling just for rowing saving that for laters sake. i cant think cannot conceive cant contain just what it means all i know is knowing nothing buttered toast is crispy muffin wheres my blueberry wheres my scone wouldnt you like to make me known i know you know what i dont know but still the seeds will soon be sown for patrons place in later owned markets farms and clouds weve grown how much for a wheat bread a loaf ill give you half an ounce if you make me a bounce

SEVENTEEN NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(SHAMEONYOUCALIFORNIA!!!!!!!} [AKA] {hummingbirds may lose the plot but looser are the words ive got...}

2009-04-22T17:17:00.000-04:00

once upon a time i had a dream i had a vision then out came the scene and all i had were some revisions but the livin that is givin to the pigeon holed in kansas was the frigid boulder rigid like the colder mouths of tandems and the plots we lost were the plots we sold but the pot we got were the pots we growed and the knots we fought were the nots untold and the trouble we sought was the lot that we owned
once upon a time i had a flight i took for fancy and the train that took it home wasnt fast and wasnt glancey but you glanced upon it sat down in it start to fidgit then your rigid like the boulder growing older from the verse that this took over start to stand still start to look out start to beat down eating free doubt doubt your debting date of dears and start to steal your truffled tears
that is when i saw the corridor looking like a poor and tired whore who had handed me a cold sword telling me to jump up on board telling me to start the engines telling me to set the sails yelling me to look into her failing me with warnings ahead
open up your silly eyes and see the ides of march
compose your compost composite your host and hold on to the hope youve lost
change will come and change is spent on chicken dinners and paying rent but what youve got left burnt inside of your pocket is the memories tried against the tests the sands of time the beaches stretching through the finest places space is warped by time is warped by space is placed in place
not now though i dont want to i can make you you cant make me i can make he he will just see he will taste me and how it be
or is it really because the cousin in indiana doesnt do dopamine hannah lost her state moved to montana ate with joe who doesnt know so hey he listened but did he hear me pressed his ear up to the chimney scraped the soot and took the limits me my foot is jammed with jelly jill she ate the whey mc flurry didnt take the pressed ricotta ground the coffee for her soda buttoned up the formal sofa late to class but only sorta couldnt walk and so they rolled her now shes lost inside a blue dome painted green onsides of freedom planted free from freedom for them by them took them from them by them voted lost and ruled by fear from eight little monkeys not unclear but look into the props that weve won look behind the props that theyve sung soon youll loose your loosely formed son whos rights were just there but not won we can beat the sounds of our drums with the beating hearts of our fun take your sagging brain and your tongue tied together with your own thumbs now youve sunk into the kingdom animalia that is all young grow up soon and take our waste from us for thus forth we are pushed on by our drives and death it will come stroke it harder first so i cum clean it up and maybe your gun pointed up will fall up to the only powers that are ruled by pushing buttons just with our thumb make it brighter so the bombs jump out of our skin into submarines of fancy hats and caped rungs building ladders chains and planes of hopes and dreams and minor things that majorly will take our brains cause they have felt the ripping steel from stolen seal and harbor eel love logging out and blogging in them only then will we taste freedom only then will we taste freedom

THIRTEEN NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(back into the swing of things) [AKA] {Stipulation of train station patrons}

2009-04-21T13:43:00.000-04:00

silly strings a silly thing to sing about aloud and out on a crowd of sound in your ears is a crowd in your head is a crowded bed is a crows feet is good meat is pretty sweet when the sugars neatly pressed into sheets of cane and candy lane and dandy warhols sandy wars all the campy for yalls open whore fall down like water something totters nothing teeters between the tweeters the speakers speaker deadens ether but reddens creepers of medicines squeezer and reefer madness is madly laughed at but bradley naftwat ate his math class when the math class ate his numbers that he crunched so he could digest them for lunch or possibly brunch either way the automaters faithful haters scarcely scared the sacred seepers seeping into outer grounds and sleeping with our outer crowns but crowning like the crows were bound to space and screamed without a sound but then we found the bugless mound that grew side town into the rounded pounded place that took up space and related back to faceless face featured fruitless ly with please of bargins sales discounted matresses flattened steel and distressed palaces placed pequiliarly perpendicular to alices open side door window that gripped on with dallas's idea of infernos that kept on to chastises placed in chalices and spaced by halibuts ate by nematodes fostered closing rose bushes noone knows open to noones nose now only neville knows knowing is nothing new nothing is novel to navel refinancers sailed by prized monsieurs ladled to wine devourers aging the line of followers plumitting nail hailed cabs and the sky is pale not for the lined boat sails today we sail and sales detract from our pail of pears pulling its weight through fear fearing its weight will tear feeling the freeing tears bleeding the freezing jeers healing the failed years over and paved its deers into the latent fields

TWO NOVEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(Words Half FAIL) [AKA] {anything to say?}

2009-04-20T16:25:00.000-04:00

la di dah la doh day ive got something good to say at least i say today that ive got the way and the way of the weighty is weighed in whey and curls will curdle if they get in the way of the path of the boulder thats crumbling away and mountains become boulders become rocks become sand becomes dust becomes just while we lust and the rust of the fuss is betrayed in the crust of the surface of our hearts that we wear on our skin because we beat ourselves so that our heart may beat our blood may beat our souls may be the oldest coldest hardest diamond that there is in the world inside our furled brow inside our soiled towel and ontop of many scowls given to us that we accepted with glee and rejected for she wasnt the only one who had them to vend and we sent them to tim who upon recieving the goods was good to me and mean to bees whos honey he had suckled for the ruffles and the shirts that had buttons of gold for untold purposes only because he wanted them and only because they wanted to shine so shine they did like a star in the sky or on the stage but no where in between and there never were stars but we were all born of them for we are their children and we shall be again as the cycles will tell but bicycles will fail and fall will yell and its words are leaves and they sting like snow and snow is cold
coldness is engulfing like a flame of these higher emotions of residing implosions of designing for trophies and were hiding ours mostly to keep them out of sight for the fright of the night when we see them and decide that we are the owners of greatness and we give away our humble but even so we crave power and we will desire it and on desiring it we have claimed it like columbus and the radiator
cans and bottles but none are round and all sound the same on all saints day and all hallows eve we shall never learn to weave but only to tease being taught by a tease we show pleasing scents and gleaming rims and all of this is a feeble attempt....

TWENTY-NINE OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(Words FAIL) [AKA] {what the tiger what the bell what the motion what the hell}

2009-04-20T01:53:00.000-04:00

something something in the night something something starts to bite something something starts to fight but fight the bite and youll be quite amazed and dazed at tritans smite but like the dyke your tyke is bright and inside outside day is night but in the night you hide in cover and under night you dive neath covers and cover lovers with smothered brothers might be kin but never others happen stance and hate the cover this one sucks but that ones better this ones better but that one sucks this one fingers that one fucks this one tickles that one dug this one squirmed and that ones fluff but fluff n stuff is huffed and once you get enough you buff the rough

i cant do this right now
i dont feel anything
im just writing words mechanicaly...

FOURTEEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{Nippley nipples are ripples of fun}

2009-04-17T13:46:00.000-04:00

n i p p l e s yes lots of sex nipple sex with the rest of the pests who ate the chest out of my breast the beast is best when ridden fast and you cant sleep within the sacks of tax and pax and sado mass but take a class in getting past the rising tide of milky rats and feel the gas that leads the raspy voices past the asking bass who took my ass and tried to grasp the meat and has oh yes he has and he will grasp and let his feast take over masks and rip off sheets and open casts and it takes weeks and may be fast but over feats will we be cast into the pits of dieing lasts and can we see the trying tabs of those who still are piling crabs and s

nip tuck nipples suck just my luck ill never fuck ill never play and inside me there is a way and in that way there is a day a dawn a gay old time to play out on the lawn a stay inside a place thats hiding from the world outsides colliding insides hiding inside siding spider piling finger flicking flying high and flying solo once upon a midnight oboe least of all the written grotto wasnt open for the bozo or the booze oh where are yous and where are mes and just like me and we shall see and when we pee we plee for glee and justice isnt suffice foreclosed office stoop to rob us ate the walrus hate the call dust fate is all us wait for

my nipples yes my nipples start to sipple then you suckle they are supple fight the knuckle they are fickle fight the sickle they will rupture oh the puncture oh the function oh consumption start the munchin grasp the luncheon ate the munchkin ate your punch then hate the bunch and break the bumps and lumps and humps of someones thumps are rapid jumps into the funk of once i bumped into a trunk I crashed a stump into a steak I ate the meat that was my plate my plate came once and I came late and twice I placed and faced the rake and faked the rape that ate the snake but ate the snake that raped the plate and played the game that players play and said the games that lovers say and helped myself into the day the dawn the lawn the nimble fawn the best the rest fell on my chest my lovely chest my lovely breast it fell abreast the left my chest and left my chest for the rest of my nest and nested neatly into the seemingly sinking feeling leaving me behind in my behind and started to grind and ate the rinds and rang the times and all the time it crossed my mind it crossed my kind of leaping mind that kept on right to the night and nicely neatly filled me completely filled me sweetly felt it briefly tasted meat and tasted me and tasted places sacred tasteless scented wasted placement graced it grazed it phased it taste it TASTE IT! Tasted flesh and how you craved it craved my taste and now you bake it mix it save it savor flavors of my craving crave her never need her never see her now you seem hurt now you gleam your favorite humor haven’t heeded nor succeeded now you’re conquered cant concede and cant contain your yearnings earnings cravings blazing human glazings manly bastings pull a few strings then your through things pull a few things then you lose things mostly new things now they’re true things place in me your sorry blue things place in me your lovely pink things pink brings blue brings new brings screw things grew things ate things played things hate things love things these things my things my thighs my lips my eyes my taste my place my date youre late your wait it makes me wait it makes me take me take you take us take lust take busts take pest take from my breasts into my hip and start to skip but take a dip oh take a nickel start to rip so we can quickly quibble little and touch my nipple suck my nipple fuck my nipple and just be simple just be cymbals ringing while your bringing all the pleasure to these strange things licking flicking taking take me take me take me wont you make me lose my grace and in its place wont you place that moistened place upon my face and then well place our hands upon our chasing out our facing in our placing with our pacing to our braced against our breathing heaving heavy wetly bet me besting best in you and testing resting then were through!

NINE SEPTEMBER TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch put it in a pouch and never take it out}

2009-04-16T11:03:00.000-04:00

stick a needle in my eye watch me cuz ill never cry but stick a pen into my heart because the start will jump its card the credit limit went far over the bridge we built was never sober the clouds we rained were soaking dover and the skin we grafted rotted clovers but lucky us our luck was out and we couldnt stand to loose without a piece of the puzzle action or pie wake up in the morning were sure wed die inside and out were sure wed fly but flying required defying gravity with lieing to the earth and prying through the bursting feeling of the breathing and the yearnings of the living the the heavings of the dieing and the cleanings of the crying for the words that were spoke were spoke unjust and the burns that were cut were filled with lust and the purge that we birthed was made of rust and the hurt that we felt wasnt quite the best and least that we wanted was someone who haunted our days and our nights and who seared our sights and the flights of the ripes of the apples to the pie were the flights of termites who ate metal and died and we lived inside of the peaches and bided our time with the line of the concusive lines and the sign of the times was the sign that confined and confided into the pen though the pin wasnt lent to you but my pencil was so full of jesus's soul so i couldnt but use it to free all my evils and the sins of the people were the fins of the eagle as it dove through the snow to the mountains deep center and the heat that awaited it was naught but a rock and yet still it was hot and the liquid did stop its decent and the tent that it errected was disected by the beings that claimed an intelligence that was greater still then the people of the earth that lived and breathed and worked the soil and the soil wept with each stroke of the axe and the axe wept with each stroke of the tax and the taxing that was faxing was fascinating and the desacrating of the monumenting was relating to the condensating and the permeation of the standing station of the trains that delayed all their people motions and the rotions of rotations and the sotions of sutation and the lotations of elating were eloping not detaining and connections were made and protections were braved and the songs that they sang were unheard by the prayed and they prayed anyways and anyhow and anywhere that they were heard and they were heard wherever they said they were heard but who heard them and who sold them after they were forced into herds and the sheperds were not kind to them for they scolded them with hate and they scalded them with water and they burnt their eyes with willow rods and they spilt their lies with pillow sobs and they opend eyes with out a sob for the burns did make their lids disolve and without lids they continued to see into the dark that they could bleed and bleed they did while eating figs for newton knows that few things own that which is grown inside of your own and even your own can create what you loan to the others for rowing to the center of the lake and in the lake they start to take where you cant shake their tail or their trail only their hands and fall into their plans and the plans to protect you are now to elect you and when they elect you they slaughter your face and your heart and your chin and than they begin to start the damage that is real and tandems that are also an ice cream cone and an iced scream so we hear your cold chilly voice scream out without a doubt that its out of breath and your lungs we know what they sound like when they flap against each other because there is no more air in them and all that is left is for the skin to rub against each other like a crickets wings and listen to them sing and listen to them sing....

TWENTY-SEVEN AUGUST TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{whip whop flip flop drip drop skip hop!}

2009-04-08T12:49:00.000-04:00

sit atop a little cot and think about the day
but even though you start to grow
you still must cut the hay

and when its cut
its just your luck
you have run out of hay

but hey
its hay
and hay
is hay
and hey
its hay
today

so start to grow another field with something that isnt hay
like hats or cats or ceiling wax
or some will run away

different syntax different style differnt lengths to run the mile but different times in milestones thymes for heart of chokes is a heart of rhymes.
and a heart of dimes is hard at times when hardly hearts have hardened rhinds and rhindstones shine when rising signs reflect the light off dying mines where gemstones grow and start to harvest and havent heard of open forest and trees are chopped and turned to logs and hogs are dropped on top of logs and cooked so slow so tender juicy and served atop a plate of blue steel and steel forks will pierce their meat and silver pork is what theyll eat and pigs grow fat on others waste and we grow fat on pigs on plate but the pigs wear hats from others waists and waiting lats is where we phase.

phase in phase out phase atop of pigs snout

snout snout snout it all out

start to shout
drown it out
play it out
skin the cat
eat the fat
and slay the rat
play the bat
but hold the mat
for falling hard
is not what that
is all about
so start to shout
and shoot it out
but never pout

a collection of poems by a collective of knowns a deceptive of moans by the tepid of gnomes the skeptical ohms will never come home and the prodigal roams are the plains that we own and owning is silly especially if billy is the type of your goat and you start to gloat and inside of the goat you will find its throat and the throat is the throttle for the sharks in the puddle and the puddle is probably portable not indeed likely to find a deed to upset minorities fighting the glory fiends of heaven sent pouring cleats cleaner than seaters of readers set on the deeds but deeds are done and done are forks inside of porks which we already ate so clean your plate and pretend your fate is decided by great er powers than you
and move onto the stew!

TWENTY-SEVEN AUGUST TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{Once once once once once i ate a packaged packaged dunce...}

2009-04-05T01:45:00.000-04:00

havent thunk havent thunk some is drunk but others dunk drunken dunk in duncan somethin....somethin...cant think...wont think joe speaks another drink havent drunk lots of thunks something thinks something winks flickers in and faders out and sabers out we take the lout and steal the loot for others boots but inside our own is something grown something thrown something died deep inside just tonight i have the sight to see the sites of interest eyes
interbreaks
interludes
post breaks
post loops
post secret
inner secret
secret innards
secret dinners
dinner diner something finer something caked and lost in space but out in here we learn to fear and what we fear is freedoms ear
whats inside! whats inside!
OPEN THE BOX IM GOING TO DIE!
screamed the cat, now how bout that, the fifty fifty sure looks nifty once its pried from something thrifty two dollar tuesdays half off saturdays sometimes sauteed always flambeed
whats it mean whats the sheen how much for your tamborinee? wont you play a song for me? mr man of salty teeth? or mr man who salts the trees and kills the birds with deadly bees? and sticks his heart into the weeds and waits for wasps to watch it bleed? but what is blood but food for flood on floors of four forbiden doors and doors with holes for keys to fuck and insert in their brassy thrust?
understand and understood flour ground from outer woods and outer goods that wouldnt know yet always grow when peanuts sow and soy beans bend under toe and towing so that beetles grow and telephone poles are grown and sowed so someone somewhere always knows.....

TWENTY ONE AUGUST TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{lacking and slacking leads to heart attacking...}

2009-03-14T00:48:00.000-04:00

nothing to say not today not a way to spend the day the day is spent it used it all up on cheap hookers and cheaper liquor that licked a dick for chicks to pick a flick of the wrist that was a slight of the hand and the land in the sand that ran to a man who sold them the plan but what was in the plan and what was in your hand when you took it away and dropped the quarter into my ear and the fish that was already in there babbled and grappled for the truth in the loot of the mind that was left behind inside of the findings of the earnings and the yearnings of the dearlings darlings farthings conicidentaly the mind reading sessions were cancled on acount of the lack of interest in the interest that was acumulated and the expenses far outweighed the profits and so they had to shut it down but before it died down they shut it off and started a trough that the pigs ate out of before we ate out of the pigs before we ate out of each other and we took a knife to our brothers and a spade to our mothers and our fathers stood by and watched in irony and the iron that glided by me when i skated on ice that was too thin to think ontop of so it broke of course and the course of the river was coarse like sand paper against my scrotum and the secular branch of the tree agreeed with me even though it disagreed with she and which is me said the bird to the bee in idiosyncrocity before the end of the flame that burned the tree to the ground laughed as it flouroushed before it gasped for breath because it had eaten it all too quickly and it had nothing more to eat so it died because the ash that had become of the ash tree was ashen and ashy and partly tragic even though the magic was taken out of the forest long before the trees revolted against humanity and the sanity of it all became understood when the hood of the car was raised up and underneath it was another hood that could not be raised up so they lifted it up and shook it round their heads like a helicopter and the bad puns that were created in fun rhymed with a ton of other shit and all of its legit said the rapper the the rhymer to the syndicated timeser who portrayed the series of events in a comical way for the everyday man who was not the man who was everyday but was in fact a man of independant thought and entity unlike everyone else who read that article and that was why he would endure and in pure heart of malice and mace the race was won one on one like the tiger with the gun who said i am strong and now i am stronger and you will fear me even more whats more more of you will die before i cry out with laughter or rage behind this cage its hard to predict the weather so wether or not you fought in the war of 84 you now know that lore is the utmost of the core of the war of the whores who hoard the chords and the ropes and the chokers that choke and the soapers that soap and the pokers that poke into the fire its my desire its my chain its my flame but the flame already died and we put it out with water that than died when all of its parts were no longer a whole but independant entities that floated off into the air to be free but were forced back into the cloud and spat back upon the earth in a little fit of rage and bullets of pure love made out of saphires were sung by giants that didnt think they were but could have been still had they built a still and the stillness of the land reflects the murmers in my heart that is made out of building blocks and play doh that plato himself requisitioned and aquisitioned and parlimentariantism regantanialism participation fairy isnt real either but she sure does make herself pretty for nothing just like all of us in our assumptions about what is wrong and what is brighter than black and blue like the ocean and the sky because both extend out into infinity and in finite space there is finding a space of our own that is unlimited in the near future but the distant future couldnt run the marathon so it took a breath and let the present pass it by and it opened it as it paused for water at the fountain that it was at and what was inside oh what a ghastly mess it was all purple and green and yellow and putrid and delicious on toast like the most of the moat dragons roast that it seasoned with far too many lima beans instead of bringing back a suitable entre that the whole world could partake in being part of instead of taking the things that arent inside of the wonder ball but i do i do i do wonder what the flavor of orange soda contains and how the artificial is the reality in which we all choose to live artificially and artichoking the meloncollie that spred herpes to third world dolphins exploited as sex trafficers without stoplights or razorblades to shave with so they were all hairy and their navels were fuzzy but when you add a drop of vodka it makes it all so much simpler and the simplest sollution we all know is the one that must contain a cat in a box with a gun aimed at it and the cat collapses into a wave until we surf it and ride it all the way back to the bahamas where our mama stood with a pocket book out ready to slap us with when we came in an hour after our bedtimes were over and we couldnt repeat our iambic pentameter so we just stood there with our jaws gapping like the holes in the bottom of the ocean that were stealing all of our water and putting it captive back into the freedom of life that was teething with rice because china came in and for the win they placed a hundred of their catuplulting mice back on strike from the hansburg district b13 and a half past the and half so what was in our creamer anyways?

SEVEN AUGUST TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{pieces of sideways...}

2009-03-12T02:46:00.000-04:00

inside outside doubtside poutside suicide newside knew a side knew a guy through a guy
threw a guy through a guy two and fly sewage night truest lie ernest guy what a guy what a life
doesnt fight doesnt cry what the fuck and thats the night
fall in bed hit your head wake up later now your dead
what the fuck and missed the truck but hit the pole and crushed the skull and fast and quick and lickitey split
and then he split and missed the ticket taking him back home back to rome soon its owned by his intonation's nation
lacent placent placid flacid acid smokes attacks him fights him off but comes off cross and crossed instead of cross
its red
its blue its green its all obscene its retroviral into me and so unclean that i come tween and twixt and twisted to the list of
things that have yet to be done or undone run and sewed up fun! but what fun is there when the funnest of fun is one whos not among us
and when we run are we just dumbest of the dumb who run for fun but learn to lag behind the flag and short the stop when were on top and place our selves inside the shelves of lifes little lessons who take but are bested and glisten and glow and spark in the snow when we spring on the fall of the summer of it all and the jessups sing and the jessabells ring and the cotton is king but the king will soon fall to the synthetic pathetic imatation of the aclamation of the intuation and the inside facing of the churches casings and inside it all we always fall and curl our heads up in a ball and throw them back into the stars and watch as they run smaller cars and when we reach the outer limits the inner hem it starts to rip it runs a legging down the skirt and starts to hurt the putrid wort and turtles hurdles jump themselves and land ontop of mushroom dwellings smoke themselves and float of yelping puppies melting sewer smelling washing plates in river beds and rushing off to smell the dead but bundling themselves up instead on top of smokey old and dead and greiving for the mountain tops we oft forget what we have lost and when we are so high above we look down on what we have loved but what we love is not imported its exported more for equal shares upon 10 dollars and dollars more then we afford but when we run our dollars out we cant but shout
help me im out
but we still import even when we are broke we grab hold of the spokes and seize the goat and travel out of our inner bounds and we make the rounds lost our founds and we find our funds and track the ones who once said they would pounce upon and the bounce we make and the council fakes is lost for words of working herds of goats who lost the way of spoke and started to float and spin in boats and toke a toke of token rope and built a ladder for hoisting bladders and inside the ladder they laid an egg to crash upon down on the head of the next man to take the ladder for a spin like a web of a spider and could create a wider hole in the ground without a pound of heat in his head for hed too be dead sooner then he planed and sooner then he could create the well for the wellbeing of his stool but the stool stood still and still it stands today when the prisoner of higher ground comes out to play.

EIGHT JULY TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{mysteriouswordsappearfrom} [AKA] ()

2009-03-11T00:25:00.000-04:00

Part I

part one of par none the end in sight gets out at night and sees the feelings of healing screenings on the lawn on the green make it seen make a scene take a bite and chew and wallow open up and fill your cup ill spite you despite your fiesty spiked me signed tree ruth lee barbed wire open fire land line land mine land mine mine mine its all mine

Part II??

i dont know where part one came from but presumably i put it down its my creation so it came from me and you can see its stylisticly inclined to be me so let me flee from my digression and reach this depression and suceed without stressin to be the unquestion abley undiscussion able most fastest horse in the stable literarly papal clark to your gable bettsy to your ross freedom from your floss nailed to a cross and dieing for the boss who bossed your boss who boosted bass who looted mace who stole his face from buddah enter prizing vitals stats are mine so idol idle listen to the words of child who came from your vital organ to orgasm prompted by a loud send rushin of emotion what was that dope in hit it once more friend take it on the relend lease it out again gain a gun and shoot him hit him in the cheek chin chest or chissle away at his abs of stizzle open him up and let him dribble and drabble and red man plays scrabble with 50 point words bingos his ringos and lets his wife serve dinner and volleys and balls from the spout she flops like a trout when he wont let her out and he puts it in and does it again and the in and out and out and again he shoots for the win but misses her chin her cheek her chest her face she lays in disgrace wipes shit off her taste and rinses it out with a cold shot of veal and the virgin of merges enters his uncertain tasteless diversion left out to desertion discovers immersion takes two of the worst things into her new thirsty certified mirth he creates his birth be it inside her teet left to be birthed reek of the uncertain ty that he learnt he couldnt be first he couldnt be heard he wouldnt be cursed she couldnt be worse

TWENTY FIVE MAY TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(alexcalleddrunkmeandistartedrapping) [AKA] {stooop to the loo while you chew what you spew}

2009-03-09T02:17:00.000-04:00

bigol game of the big on frmae and the stained glass tame is in heat of the game and c
cranberry juice that is deep in the tooth and the fairy isnt hairy because larry wasnt boost and the gerriatric scarry crow was left out to grow so old and the berry punch of terry holes is left inside of derricks hole of verry cold drinks of older buildings scold the children for the scoulding crimes the sacred rhymes the inside times the tunic grows when putrid knows of heated scones and glistened toes and fugasho and stoogad dough of pizza crowed to scare the load of shit from in the gublid hone and too much loove
nuts in the stuck with the the glue in the poo and its all gone its all gone its in my belly
all of it is stuck in shit
in my belly
smells like a telly
vision
of
me
i cant see

bumblebees bumblefuck stick it in what is up suck it hard stick it in slap that bitch on her chin
i dont know i dont know whats an apartment stick megan mckee smoke detector goes off i think theyre smokin weed or mybe gorwin seeds of neeat little beads and the creed of preedence skeet.
alex says what but what a nut of a squirel dont ya knower cuz the bitch is in the show er
and ill shower what shes made of and bitch ll take it later and shell take it now too cuz that bitach isa in da moooddddd!!!!

NINETEEN APRIL TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{drip drop faucets off cant stop the torrents block unscrew the corkscrew who knew the torch blue?}

2009-03-08T13:01:00.000-04:00

thoughts drop like pindrops on mountaintops of secret dreams of cloudy scenes of grass screens of mobile things of interesting pieces of information of interconnected bits of degregation of integrated bits of potato nations how can we see the things that we create when we make the oven to bake inside of the interwebs inside my head the rhizomes cry zones the fly tomes the dry gnomes who bake the bread in the oven who put the berries inside of the cran who take the leigons from other lands to take to the daycare of wet wear of jeans tears of beans rarer than juicy fruit of least juicy fruit of the most fruity juice of gay men everywhere of the things that we say inside of our heads but the things that we cannot try to taste to make the meat meet me my cousin vinny who was the whiney winnie of the pooh who knew who knew make a scene make a scene who the fuck listens to panic anyways and why am i listening to them now first person reference not allowed not aloud not a low blow to the ovaries that i dont have that i have inside my mind that i take as blind that i put inside of the blender to blend into blendy blended blendered mur red dddddddddd redrum whiterum greenrum seerum? strawberrys are grand mellons are grand grand ol mellons grand old party old grand dad makes me so sad makes these 6 little letters into a whole new language who would have thought perhaps by not seeing we can start being perhaps by not feeling we can start being perhaps by start being we can stop feeling perhpas we should all be and stop ising stop thinking and just being but start thinking and stop existing and start existing and stop this nonexistance this passive passing by of life as it lies to your eyes as it starts and stops and you keep going but not moving except through time and this time its right to lie down and to close your eyes but your eyes still lie except the minds eye that peirces thoughts that pierces peirce who praises prices of pies piled higher than the sky who puts pieces of puzzles together to hang on walls who puts paid prescriptions into placeholders so that paying placebos can penetrate deeper into this heirarchieal bleeding on the ball room floor for the attention.

TWELVE MARCH TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(FUCKYOUTOO!!!) AKA {like to love to live a life a lie a light up in the sky}

2009-03-07T05:18:00.000-05:00

how much love can be enough and how can love be just enough and lovers loved in love is just such that love is not its thrust and can we love and live a life and is that life a living lie and lieing lies to love and live inside the life of lovers eyes and let us let in our outer lies and let out all the things inside letting lovers love to die is leaving lots to lossing lies leave me lots of love tonight for love is all i can decide to give and only deaf advice and letting love just let us by lets look beyond the others eyes lets see the love that lovers like like letters leafs and little childs letting go is not tonight let us let us let the lies leave behind a lovely side look like looking look inside for love is loved by love tonight

TWENTY TWO FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{cheaper by the dozen reaper by the oven}

2009-03-06T00:21:00.000-05:00

fixed light fixed flight fixed night not tonight hard rock hard cock hard box but whats inside? question mark is like a lark a bird that is just a bird but what a bird is such a bird but havent you heard the magic words that make the magic work its master and master men without a master plan to have a single thought of wonder power mystery draught. period is oh so final interesting its not that vital end the sentence complete the thought and marry words without a dot! exclamation point with line its so so useful all the time you push the buttons and up it grows like a penis between your toes but who puts penises between two toes and who keeps smelling with their nose and who contains the truth be told of nothingness and open roads. can you be drunk and feeling fine and smile as you pass the time and can you open up your throat and pour down liquids bent on floors. the apple of the minds fruitful eye is the apple that gets shot by some guy and the arrow that can only pierce your brain gets lost and muddled by a train of thought that gets lost and tracked by a weasel that isnt fat nor is it thin nor in between its lost to words a state of lean. enter into this mystics cave and ward off evil that you create, listen with your hands your heart your mind but never trust what lies before your eyes for if it lies you can always see and cast your doubts ahead of me and watch me run and trip and fall and break myself in pity stalls. ensnare me in your viscious web wrap me up and pull my thread and unravel all the secrets i begat or simply ask me where im at and i will tell you without fail slightly faster than the pace of a snail, the only things that i will never say and i open my eyes and again it is day!

TWENTY ONE FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{ naughtie nightie neighbors nicely}

2009-03-05T00:47:00.000-05:00

cant sleep t he clowns will get me cant sleep the clowns will get me cant eat the crowns will slit me cant dream the browns will deep me deep down im now the city outside is oh so pretty inside its awfully shity but in my mind i free the itty bitty kitties that knit the mittens for satans satin sadist sit in hopeful full bows show the glitzy rhindstones inside out for titties boobage on the landfilled quilting bee of honey landed in me cant explain the outer limits but what does it all mean im timid boy who lives in house that lives me anger softens blows like fencing keeps out wolves but keeps in bessy belle of jello hows she fitting into dresses made for missy cant contain the mess were making cooking pans of lantern dressings dressed in fitted well fit menchies munching on the mutton me see mr meager my hes heavy full of stuffing skipping stones in two piece fashion fix the car how fast were driving open road and now were flying open air were all sky diving diving fast we swim to heaven kicked us out of mamas kitchen raid the oven fast were frying open door were all pan diving open mouth were sucubiing steal the water out of the iron iron the rod and ram the nightly chores of laborous sleep depriving open minds were empty hearted open hearts were all quick dieing open mouth were audiblieing buy the engine number nine nein est mein hast choose your side of either mashed or frenchly fried set the settings set by guys in clean white coats who must comply to use the gagets hatchet style and enter peoples sanctuaray and splash the alter with cranberries post an entry into carry return the pigeons flight of nary cant a woman find a scary man who wont be scared of cherries chocolate covered placed by jerry clementines in danger there he takes advantage of her weary will to be inside his ferry boats the river dot the square he climbs aboard and sets the square t off into the mapped out green seas takes the helm and ale fourteen children fed on naught but sea tea harbor fested feasts of seaweed left behind to see the great seas making sense so now i cease thee...

TWENTY FEBRUARY TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{Heart attacks crack the knacks of knicker boxers snackin shacks}

2009-03-03T04:09:00.000-05:00

your eyes tell the story of the way that my mouth moves about you when i see what you say about what you felt when you smelt the iron will of my being and i took it into me and you made me scream and i wrote about it and you made me cry so that next time it happens well fuck till we die and well diet on soda and crackers and clams and big busted women who eat juicy yams and munchkins for dinner well all dine on ham and jews are the winners and win them some ham!
cant really talk my room has its sleep my fingers they scream when they say what i mean i mean what i say when i know what i mean and all other times my mean man is just me

FEBRUARY TWELVE TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(An ofFering to my new reader in the present from the past before her present's presented when the future is now was the past the moment has) [AKA] {}

2009-03-02T00:53:00.000-05:00

vallentines day pay to play yesterday not today remember me by saying hey horses porous sing songs for us ask my name but say it with shame sonar so far guitar go to mars cant stop wont stop rockafella whoops excuse me to hell with it the girls the girls they love me dont stop plaing with my heart if you stop but better yet dont you ever start but if you start start a star because i love you this is cruel who do you like who do you think might become one of us one of thus won our trust lost our bust our best chest wet the rest with white wash blue tarps heart start cant wait tell me a story story time is the best of times silent time is the better of times times when we cant stop thinking and cant stop hearing but when we hear we dont think and when we seer we dont pink we brown we black we orange purple mage in a maze of mace makes me mate with my mates dictate what i didnt say because you already knew i forgot it in the mist so dont get pissed about the cist. cant you change the chain so that the reins that reign can rain upon the masses of the classes of the lower upper middle class came so fast we didnt even make a new name for it we can just add on more addjectives objectively of course and in good taste for the race horse that never came into the finish line because he jumped over the side and made a mad dash for the red rash ontop of the old mans head squished his face and now hes dead and put his hoof inside his brain and now his foot thinks its got game but the game got you and the heat fought too and the hot headed horse whos hoof had happened to the head of the howitzer prize winner was a weiner for the winger that rang the rings off of the faces of people who had holes in the moon and the pie that i took a slice of ate itself a new hole and the hole that got eaten became a new life in and upon itself and it rose above the water and the water rose above the bath and the bath took itself out with the baby and pushed it down the carton of milk into a milky white misty might from the lungs of a smoker who smoked nothing but smoked sausages because the hickory went hickadee and hickey me from behind to get a surprise prise when you apraise the right house on the market but when you go pick me up some eggs and some milk because the baby took it and dont forget the celery and youd better not pick up any more beer we dont want any of that here because its really gross text message next mess is sex head please not for you anymore im not drunk enough to fuck me there tease my hair rip my hurt and sunk my boat in the ocean of blue and green and pink and pee but what really lies at the bottom of the trench a hose a wrench? can you concieve of what is three and is there freedom free from me and can i take you down below and strike you with a ho that i picked up on the corner of the store that was a dollar for a holler at me and ill break ya neck boy cuz im not that kind of a girl im a good christian woman and i win men by sin gin or pins in a doll while i scream out yall and throw down the hall but coat the hall in plastic wrap and take out the trash and lkajdsf;lkasjdlaksjd asdf round and round and round surround sound my head is spining my heart is winning my bodys losing my mind is crumbling eat the cookie square and squishy want a new one? lets have no fun lest my back is bared from new cum on some gum chum thumb gun come fun cant ant sand planned the war who wins the war but who kills the most of them all are dead because they got stommped in the head by our killer horse army who we trained to kill the old men who take control of our young men who are they but bitter lemonade whose color cannot be colorized or polorized or penetrated by a straw our an ice cube even though we are trying to keep down the temperature of the war room THERE IS NO FIGHTING IN HERE! but there is fighting in her and fighting in him but where am i on that scale of twins? where do i fall up can i have a dollup can i become yalls fuck can i enter tall bucks can i end the malls cusp and can i be tweened to trill trucks and put big wheels on a big truck with a small driver and a wet diver who dove into the beach to get some seashells but broke the one thing that he treasured most and took out his air tank and ended up drowning with a lung full of sand and the other one full of hopes and dreams that he took with him out of this small world that he calls his own and he couldnt see beyond the edge of the ocean so he knew that it didnt exist and because it didnt come to him he went to it and he run with one lung stuck behind in the past and one foot in the future and when the space time continuum expanded he was ripped into three peices and the one lunged one footed diver dove back into the sky and flew into history as the only man who was everywhere and nowhere at the same time because time was all of him and all of him was in a new time but the pictures he took with him from the camera that had not been invented was out of film and became a bomb of bongs that banged on drums and changed their tunes to the march of a different drummer but the hummer ran them over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over oaodifjao;kjvm;laiu efj;ao9ulkfjierlakcjoie;lka ckuoe alkd.ci ,eocualkdj ic kkodoelakie pkeidk cilekl ,amiclk ,leic lke,jcjielk oispflso;epbecause we cant read IF THERE AREENT ANY DLEETTTERS;LAKJR;KLZDSF;LAKDSSSSSFAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
I CANT CONTINUE I CANT GIVE INTO YOU OR ME OR WHAT YOUVE PLACED UPON THE TABLE OR INSIDE THE OVEN AND I CANT GET OVER WHAT YOU GAVE ME OR WHAT YOUVE DONE TO MY MAT OR MY CAT YOU BROKE MY HAT WHEN YOU PUT THE CAT IN THE HAT WHAT BOUT THAT TELL ME THAT YOU THINK OF THAT MY CAT IS FAT ITS OH SO FAT ITS ENLARGENED BAT OF FAT THAT IT EATS OUT OF FOR SUPPPER IS SUPPLE AND SUBSTANTIAL AND SUPERIMPOSED ON OUR RETINAS AS A RESONATING VIBRATING RUBBING SCRUBBING THROBING MEMBER OF THE HRC WHO DID WHAT THEY COULD TO DO WHAT WE CANT SO WE CAN DO WHAT WE DO WHEN WE DO WHO WE SCREW BUT THE WRAPPING OF THE PAPER AIRPLANES WAS THE CAPTAIN OF THE CASCADING CREATINGS AND WE CANT COME CLOSE TO WHAT WE WERE BEFORE AND THE PINK PONY WISHES YOU A HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUT THE DAY OF YOUR BIRTH WAS THE ONE DAY THAT YOU WERENT ALIVE BUT YOU CAME INTO THIS WORLD AND YOU SAW THE LIGHT AND YOU COULDNT UNDERSTAND THOUGHT AND YOU PRECIEVED WHAT WAS WAS AND WHAT IS WASNT AND WHAT WILL BE CANT BECOME UNLESS YOU MAKE IT AND WHEN YOU MAKE IT THEY TAKE IT BECAUSE THEY CANNOT MAKE AND THEY CANNOT CREATE AND THE CANNIBIS WAS CANNED AS THIS BUT THEY STILL SMOKE IT AND CLAIM THAT THEY DO NOT KNOW WHAT IT IS AND THAT THEYT KNOW EXACTLY WHAT IT DOES AND EXACTLY WHAT CAN BECOME OF IT BUT THEY CANNOT BECOME ITS THICKNES AND THEAN WELKSLKEJRI KEISLEKEI LKISLKEI KDILKIK LIKILKEI LILKFIEKIFKIKLIKILKIKLIKLIHKLJILK;P,LA;LKAJE I WANT TO MAKE WRODS THAT ARE HREAD BUT I ACNT CREAT E THE CRATES THAT THE CREATENS WOULD AND COULDNT COME TO TERMS WITH THEH BURNS THAT THEMSELVES WERE GIVEN FOR THE SAKE OF SAKE AND THEY DRANK TO THE GRAPES THAT GAVE THEM THE GRATES AND THE MAKES OF MODELS AND SADDLES THAT PADDLED THROUGH THE RIVER GRANDE AND TOOK BEYOND A LIFE TO SEE THIS MUCH PLITHE AND WHEN IT ALL COMES DOWN TO IT LIFES THE PITS BUT THE AQUISITION OF THE PEACH WAS OH SO SWEET AND THE MOTION THAT WAS CONSUMED WHEN WE CONFUSED THE INTUNE OF THE NEW MOON UPON THE NEW LIGHT BUT THE SUN DIED OUT WHEN THE MOON CRASHED INTO VENUS AND THE LOVERS WERE NO LONGER IN LOVE BUT ENTANGLED AND INDISTINGUISHIBLE AND TWO BODIES WERE ONE AND THEY THOUGHT THEY HAD FUN BUT THE WITCHES RAVE GAVE THEM EVERYTHING THEY NEEDED TO BECOME A GREAT CARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRASH!
AND BOOM
JUST LIKE THAT
THE WORLD WAS OVER
AND THE SUN COULD OPEN ITS EYES
AND SEE WHAT IT CREATED
AND ITS SON COULD COME OUT TO PLAY
BECAUSE THE BULLY OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD WAS FINALLY OUT FOR GOOD
AND THE CHILDREN COULD PLAY SAFE AND SOUND
AND SO THEY DID
and it all came true.

FEBRUARY NINE TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

{Jubilations and rebel nations}

2009-02-20T01:09:00.000-05:00

"Interesting hypothesis but how do you prove the impossible."
the snail pondered the notion before sitting down upon the rock
"irrelevant to this conversation" said the snail proudly at last
"well just suppose that we juxtapose the crusted toes with funk and soul how far than do you think wed go?"
the snail smiled for the right amount of time before a whale ate the snail and the rabbit that inhabited the mouth before jumped out the door when the snail came in on a sudden whim, the whale grinned, its fate was grim it hit the rim of an ocean liner a converted diner surprised by finer lengths of wire that wired the world that hired the hurled rejects of the spur of the moment the backwash came back is when we attack we crack their backs until they snap and than we snack on souls of soldiers soles of sold your boots back into the market and hark! it came back upon us the glistening of the morning the listening of the mourning the christening of the storming the sound of the drops that pop on top of bars and cops but far more stop to check the clock so they are late delayed by hate and motivate to grate the eight last layers of salvation before the dalmatian takes over the nation and oh the jubilations that judo could hasten and movements of pieces that come out of the board and into the sword and grasp us by the hilt and shake till they tilt the stone that held the blade the immortal blade that cut the blade of grass with crass so fast that lassie laughed and chaffed her face in the penitentiary and deep down inside the well that she pushed jimmy into the water cried with glee because it had a friend who wanted to play so the water hugged jimmy and it hugged him tighter and tighter and it gripped him and it could feel him hugging back because he was excited and he reached all over the water and he tried to grab it all with his hands and they moved back and forth and up and down and he screamed with delight and blew bubbles and and and and there were no more bubbles why were there no more bubbles! why! screamed the water! why cant i play with you anymore! and so it put jimmy back into his case of treasures with all the other ones who no longer wanted to play anymore, why didnt anyone want to play anymore noone ever wants to play so they could play all day no matter what you pay just hope you pray for your prey because the hunter is the hunger and the hunger strikes us all unless we boycot the boys tots toy bots row cots cats fats rats gnats tracks cracks jacks tacks tax fax relax frankie relax

JANUARY THIRTY ONE TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(TEQUILAANDRIPNL) [AKA] {}

2009-02-20T01:02:00.000-05:00

death dying falling flacid freedom free from freeform freezing running raining paining cant feel cant scream cant cry but crys and crys and cries screams from inside the little muffet ate the tuffet and shat on the world because she couldnt elope with the spider the tree the trees there were three you and i and me thats four more than i could count before but the envolope was closed and we could never open it with out the scissors your mom gave me on my birthday last christmas eve before the ides of march came tumbling down on us kick the snow slash the walls bleed the knuckles read the puzzles solve the mystery of the clue masterpiece john travolta double quarter pounder how does he stay fit to fight big beast fast solve eat mast ship yard wreck crash tree last fast fast fast so fast open door open mind closed lane closed time final fast voyage bon mal a tete a mal trop de temps et pour vous c'est n'est pas il y a combien porquoi! porquoi! parce que! thats the way its supposed to be! never me. not friends. always forever. friends for life. face. face. face. 1000 faces. 1 book. 10000 phrases. 1 look. 1000000 ways to. 1 disregard. forget. forgive. fortune. fortunate. fear, afraid a favor a favor rejected, a favor given, a favor recieved, a mess made. every girl has her secrets. this is our secret. maybe this time it wont. ill call you back later. i cant believe it. it hasnt hit me. it hit me hard. does he hit you like he hits her? he never hit me. i hit him back harder. puppy. sleeps. i wake. i w a k e. i see i do not feel i do not fear but fear itself whic has its grip on me. fear fever frustrating unforgiving. faggot faggot faggot bitch none of them. all of them. one of them. you in me. me in you. not a dream. was a dream. after all. after. never before. never again. cannot comply. will not lie. refuse to hide. closets not inside. no box for cloak room. cant stay in the rooms. must jump over pieces. no die. no roll. just guess the cards. thats how we play the game. use the die. takes too long. no die. no die no NO NO NO NO NO DIE!!!!!
D20
D16
D80
D6
snake eyes
snake bites! lick mine!
you bring the liquor!
im a light weight. im light, wait. im dark, hate. im proud, make me. proud. life. proud. friends. proud memories. proud light. proud foot. loud suit. quiet tie, tiny lie. like a raisin. This is our little secret. dont you want to cuddle?

JANUARY TWENTY SEVEN TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

2008-12-24T11:07:00.000-05:00

keyboard true form forlorn ghostworn
scare war terror news score flashform
pre made ready take sea scape jeep lake
gas price late rise take wise not advise

JANUARY TWENTY FOUR TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

2008-12-24T10:59:00.000-05:00

what to write what to say, i am here yay im gay, not today not to see not to have not to be doesnt seem to matter the universe is composed of.
sudoku, sue do coo, sew doh koo. who knows to? who has to, who passed to who gave up who gave down who gave in who lost who finished who collapsed the ecosystem were in to gimp nose hurts players run. down the field the daisy can see where the leopard was not there today, or any day for that matter. for the fact of the is is not and its hot hot hotter than a tot who got caught in his thoughts and when he ought to have to caught the last two not the class jew so he has food not the bad soot but the rad foot and the cat took the plains from the wall. they were plain and planes of pain were inside the rain when they splattered again. st the road. coca cola dont you knowa better hold on all the martyrdom from inside the gumball that came down out of the twenty five cent sticker machine all pressed flat against the mat like a rat got bat with a bat on the hat of his head he would up dead and couldnt be made to move against the wall or the plain or the same one that the cat fell out of when the world shook down upon the nobody that isnt inside of anybody anymore everybody has the had the hated hate and hates the tainted painted feilds not the plains they are insane. i am in taking debts. the buisness of wasnt the only way out and the way in wasnt the way to play the game on the field. circular repetition regurgitation in words of gracious neutered phrases typed with out eyes played without bites on the round cracker. youve got no where to go to why dont you go where everybody knows your darkest secrets why dont you go where you dont have to pretend to be riteous and you can play the game with people who dont even know your name just that place from whence you came when you came on the cane of the sugar from the gain and the loss of the hauss the cranberry blackberry redberrys not an actually berry unless you carry the weight of the world on the drop of a pindrops inside a sock in the machine that washes it clean and the machine breaks down and the world collapses outwards away from itself for it repulses its own and its gravity is so mad at me when it sees what i see and i can take out the henesy from the gentle seas and see what i see when i see what is me and when me says to he that she is a he and that he is a she and that he is not her and only just cold and alone in the lightbulb that glows bright but never at night because it glows the same against the starry skies that were there in your eyes and the drops of the vapor that hit against the blind mans throat sound like a goat and a token goat at that, that goes into the machine and drops out again when you push the coin return button but you kick it really hard so not only do you break your foot but the machine gives you a free electric shock down your spine and proclaims you are mighty lucky that you didnt fuck me and i am pretty glad that i am you dad and not your son because i could never be that bright so fight me if you can and ill make you into glam fab our ous uous o l u s o r o u s fabuglamabourous stand up and tell everybody the news that you heard from the bird that fell out of the sky o mi ho mai

JANUARY TWENTY FOUR TWO-THOUSAND-EIGHT

(Distractions from the shopping malls detraction from the hopping falls and rations for the empty halls) [AKA] {THE LOST ONE NUMBER TWO

2008-12-20T17:01:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the shopping mall, the pinnacle of our civilization, the greatest monument to commerce ever erected. Housing row upon row of materialistic shrines, preaching their religion to passerbuyers in the strategically constructed street. Millions of people come and go through the gates of America's malls every day. Some browsing, some buying, some simply ambling around, but all are part of a much larger scheme, devised by mall owners to encourage consumption of their goods at the expense of the consumers. For many the mall is a place simply to "hang out" but mall owners do their best to discourage these actions. The mall is designed to appear as a social environment while functioning as an isolation g system discouraging shoppers from interacting with anyone other than the shop keepers when making a purchase. The mall, a recreation of a town center has evolved from a thoroughly social place to one completely individually centered. The mall is an isolatory environment, not only in the sense of its separation from the real world, but also in the sense of isolation from the shoppers from each other.

When a customer walks into a mall they are in a warm inviting place opening into a food court full of people or a large empty space where people can funnel in to and trickle out of the store. Immediately they feel a warm sense of community in the air, like they are part of something, but at the same time they are separated from it. The people in the food court, are engaged in conversation amongst their own separate groups, the people in the entrance are quickly rushing to their car to make it to their next errand not noticing the people around them. The newcomer is hardly noticed amongst the hustle and bustle of the buying frenzy. The mall, the modern day town center, the futuristic main street of a time now forgotten, the mutated simulacrum of the market places of ancient Greece where people would go to deal their wares and to shop till they dropped from paying top fares and they hipped and they hopped till they made it to the stairs of heaven. And those stairs led right up into the sky where on the clouds the angles died and sank into the burning fluff draining the brilliant white as the dropped and falling out in shattered bits burning bits dripping bits raining bits, the pieces of which kept on hailing down into a blue boat sailing where the rudder like no other struck a baby whales mother only mommy didn't feel it she just shook it off and healed it threw the boat up into the sky the sky up high where angels die and live and fly and shop and buy at shopping malls up in the sky where prices are so low they say that down on earth you'd jump today into a pool of molten love and merge with hate until you dove into the ground under the pool its fresh and neat and oh so cool and in the sun the waters boil leaving naught a top the soil leaving neither grass to eat or sunken waters in the street nor hide nor hair of bird or bear and lifting all into the air lifting all up to the sky up up high where angles die, where angles cry and people lie to get into the peaceful sky and soar with birds like childish fears of falling creeping burning air with mystic oars in boats of leaves that sail away into the breeze with wind behind and sun before and rabbits riding on the floor that eat the leaves that keep a float the tiny little falling boat that opens up into to breeze that tiny little boat of leaves it simply floats way up and leaves the past behind a tiny speck that bead of sweat upon your neck that fell there from behind your nose and drained your smelling like a rose but cooled your face and soiled your skin and left you hot and burnt again and stole the pieces of your soul and sold them all for bags of gold that taken up into the sky would make the angles start to fly away from greed and sins untold those lanky bags those bags of gold they stole from you and stole your soul you lying frozen in the snow with spots of pink around the ice from when the salmon tried to fight the fisherman who had the hook that he made from his last book and tore the pages from the sleeves and sent them off into the breeze and made great waves for the little ship that went out to the air to dip into the sun and feel its waves and escape from all the haze where children spent their dieing days in sand boxes with grains of dust that fell from angels pious lust way up high up in the sky where the angels eat their pie their pie of peace their piece of pie made from Satan's stale eye the only one that people know the only kind of tree that grows in the dirt from over seas the dirt was blown in on the breeze in little ships the pirate ships that fell from trees that took a sip of poisoned air and violently shook out its hair into the breeze that breeze of seas of air and particles in the breeze that send the ship out over seas along the breeze the rodents please themselves by sailing through the trees and understand their fate to land out far away in distant lands and tread on soil under foot and under tree but over root and trek out onto lands that beckon to the soul of the lost and wandering mole that flew on leaves across the sea with rabbits mice and squirrels three and three were lost out on the seas those that drowned under the breeze and got sucked in to clouds up high way up high where angels try to save the dead and gently cuddle their sweet heads and suck the life out from the bones and send the bodies back to home where children cry and from the sky the looks of terror multiply enunciate the sobbing tears that wallow around all the years that people live until they die and are sucked into the sky and once they live they than must die and so the cycle on its side keeps spinning round and down to earth where lovers fall into the dirt with holes of passion through their brains and blood is taken till its drained and the earth has had its fill and then the place can sit here still and listen to the sounds of the sky way up high where angels die.

JULY TWENTY FIVE TWO-THOUSAND FIVE

(The Begining) [AKA] {Acrylic cheetoes dance in speedos while they wait to hear the vetos overshadowed by the neato....

2008-12-19T23:43:00.000-05:00

...super awesome feats of me though i cant see beyond the trees so i think ima go and be mo ghetto fabulous and re-al straight up gangsta on the G-lo rape the earth and plant my seeds so deep under the dirty soi-l spash some water make a tree grow up into the clouds
where the rain falls
where the birds fly
where the planes fail
where the people die
*BEAT*
die
*BEAT*
die
*BEAT*
they die in the sky
sily apes they tried to fly
heavens gates bitch smacked them down to meet their maker peter shouting give or take her head and the grounds split in four they opened the doors to hell the rebel yell cant save you now so wish upon a fairy maybe he can save you only if you carry your heart in a bag thats right said the fag and got struck by lightning from the sea possiden comes from you and me the ocean rages our bodys tear and spit fire into the abyss you thought you could miss it now your just pissed that i came first and gave the first birth and gave it to the hearth and smeared your ashes on my soul to make beautiful music i can hear it playing now i can hear it dying now the rise and fall of greatness comes early in life and is hidden in strife for all of your life so play me your fife little drummer boy youll play what i tell you so punch in your drum or ill punch you for fun because thats what i do you cant do what i do when i do what i do and do you know who can do who you did you didnt they disected you first into little sections they took their errections turned them into objects of pleasure that pleasure you cant measure till its gone like a feather and sewn back on to the back of a bird the bird can fly again so it can die again and rise from the flames of the ashes of someone elses burns and all the while it yearns to die again to live again so it can sing again and run again and escape from it all above the world the green down below looks red if your colorblind your colors mine i stole it so now you cant even see my blood it all looks green it blends in with the scene and i am one with the world for the world is mine and ill take it when i want you want it but i want you ill take you too dont wait for my verdict its negative in the first degree cant you see what you mean to me so dont be mean to me or ill be mean to you i mean it meanwhile ive been gone and returned to collect my debts but theyve all been repayed youve taken away my bonds that tied me too you i have to be true for i am the truth and i am the delitescent sooth under your flipant persiflage and when you connect the dots they spell out the word of mouth is the outlined hatred and frozen tounge that the pole tried to lick for lack of better thought and thirst of thickened tacky taughtness like the rope holding the weight of the moon anchored to the earth pulling away to escape reality in the higher places drowning in oxygen for the excess creates surpluss and cannot be regenerated through time ticking away you pay me a dime i just might rewind your mickey mouse watch so his tails on his head again instead of on his arm and you can try to unharness the powers of the mind but without questions there are no answers and with questions there is no thought no push to learn for yourself you learn from a belt with out one your pants fall down in public and your public pubic pub goes out of buisness because of sanitary complaints from the christian bookstore across the road and you hit a cross in the road and die because they wanted to tell you their mother died on that road because thats where they shot her her and her kids all three of them in a row screw in the flash cube and snap they shot her picture and put it on the wall of the church where everyone can see and pass by it everyday its so mundane they forget it because its right infront of them because they dont try to see when they close theyre eyes they try to sleep with the pillow underneath their heads they pretend that theyre deadbeats but than laugh in the face of the poor when they throw theyre checks at them in little pieces for they are rich they shout rich in love and noone has the money or the coins cleaned with a black soot covered cloth to get rid of the shine from the sun while it lasted i had fun in the sun with a tube top ripped down the middle from lifting my spirits with spirits i was a spirited fellow before i was mellow and got jaundice and turned yellow like a daffodil resting on a hill till someone gets in touch with nature and runs over it with their big nature friendly hiking boot because they cant stop and jog or theyll lose the race to get to the end but the end isnt in sight so they try and they fight and they struggle and sometimes they snuggle before making children they made them out of clay they tried to make them from dradels but they were to stiff and would break when you hit them or threw them against the floor and stomp on all the pieces until they go back into one and you can do it all over the love seat because thats what theyre for loving loving love and loving the act of love and the name of love which gives comands and halts progress into the past for once the past has stoped the present is gone and the future will never be and when you push play the sound still wont come on for a few seconds and you have those white bars of distortion over the picture that jump around and back and forth and up and up and up we go because we cant go back down not after what we found down there it was a horrible scare to stare into the face of pure goodness and confonting it only makes your heart seem blacker so you retreat into the darkness so you can glow amongst the darkness or maybe your just white and living in a black hood cuz you aint got it so good or maybe you just want to get shot up on the block so pop can sell his stock and stack his dough into the bank and stock up on live stock so you can eat and you can beat the virus that stole your life from you the poor victim who just stuck his dick in glade plugin to get rid of the smell that you create you infectuous waste full of trecherous haste and three ways to baste and roast and fry the meat that was cut from the tree of life so that death could live and grow and make the seeds that could be sewn into a quilt so we can burry our past and relive it in the future and deliver to the preacher the peaches and the nectars that we made with our own hand the other one was busy turning the pages in the book so we could keep up with the story and learn from people who never existed beyond the minds of those delusional enough to keep others in their minds and write them down and solidify them in ink bound to the page kept alive until the rage of the townspeople gets to much and they toss them into the burning vessel and set them out to sea where the giant whale swallows them before being shot by the hunter at sea and guted in the ocean so the fat and oils seeps into our sewers and back up through our pipes till it clogs our toilets and is analy digested threw our bodies and spit back out through our mouths as whatever the whale ate for breakfeast three months ago which happened to be a bowl of wheaties from the box with the famous wrestlers on it he ate the box too he was distracted by the latest creation from the creator who created creation and create-lings who could create him from cream of wheat because they couldnt afford the wheaties and they ate smarties so they could get smacked because they couldnt afford drugs either unless they sold their souls to needy who dont have souls because they dont have the words to express the feelings that are repressed and invented by the mess of the world that were in and what do you feel is not what is felt because if it were felt than it would be felt and felt is best when it is green and you mix green with blue and its still green because green is a pigment of your imagination but your pigmentation recognizes it as ochre for lack of better smell because you cant tell what color a color is unless the color doesnt exist because than you created it and it is yours to name
*BEAT*
and so you name it
*BEAT*
and than it is yours
*BEAT*
and you are its
*BEAT*
and you have become a possession of your own expression
*BEAT*
and you give yourself away to the rain and are sucked back up into the sky from which you came from so you can feel that one last gush of air as it whips by your head as you smash into the ground when gravity takes its toll right out of your pockets and you scream im broke at the bottom of your lungs because your falling face first so you can see whats coming at you and can take it like a mangled shard of the glass mirror you broke so you could see your tears fractated into lactose and spent the most on love is lost when you hit the post
*BEAT*
and with your final heart beat the blood gets redirected to your flacid phallus so you die with a smile on your face and a hand
*BEAT*
in your pants
*BEAT*
*BEAT BEAT BEAT BEAT BEAT*
*EJACULATE*
*STOP BEATING*

ummmmmmmmmmmm i was going to post something but i kinda got carried away and now i lost it sooooooooo.....mmm yeah here have a quote...
"'What is your skincare secret?'
Boy George- 'It's happiness.'"

MAY EIGHTEEN TWO-THOUSAND-FIVE