Life has made me lawless
Life made me a conman
I can't remember when I last felt stillness
Been stuck begging for change with a can
People walk by seeming flawless
But never look twice at their fellow man

Life has made me lawless
Life made me a conman
Pride and feeling tallness
Are two things I'll never understand
Most days the world seems ruthless
I suppose that's just my hand

Life has made me lawless
Life made me a conman
I hope death may take me from this madness
And make me a free man

an incredible incite (the ruthless volatility of words)

~for L.B.~

the only place of solitaire solitude in the city accompanies me
like a faithful country dog that doesn’t know better to be afraid,
of moving cars, sleepless night terrors and unscripted “dreams”

where image and words say come “follow me” with ruthlessness and no cloying come hither looks and
see and take and recall with perfect midnight blue sky clarity for

the incredible incite of credible insight

surfacing unexpectedly in a intemperate pool of slushy snow,
that will be an ice storm of painful confrontations with naked
inner truths standing outside in sunny sub zero playground

there is great risk.  volatility gone wild. when the speed
governor is removed and you live at 100 mph on local streets,
when the merest slight of an accidental incidental touch
transforms into an incite incident and hell is the threat
that you will not die today and your own words will ruthless
pull from the nerve places where sensible and sensual cannot
coexist and this write this script is a poetical insight inside, an
incredible incite and what your spilling is spaghetti sauce blood
when you left your brain on broil, instead of the faking daily of
slow simmering ineffectual intellectual words that just don’t
cut the crap. your addiction complete, you cannot live without
the incredible incite, the ruthless volatility of words,
otherwise why rough write what you see
in the blind
beyond the blind


1/6/18 5:03am

what a coward you are,
you say yourself a man yet you can't walk across the room to get your own clothes,
you hardly take care, your disheveled hair you say it's a style,
might i misheard you but i swear it's not it,
you hide behind mum for whenever things get rough,
ah but still you break her heart,
and i am angry,
angry that she lets you break her heart piece upon piece,
shred her money dollar after dollar,
and tear this house brick after brick,
you are a selfish man indeed,
as for once i thought i could count on you and look up as if you are my own hero,
a brother who i could admire,
but no,
as the day you've swung your fist at me,
the day you've dared to hold a knife in front of me-
swearing one day that you'd **** me,
you are not a man,
and you have never been my brother,
you are vile,
i see either death could only change you otherwise.

Let me ask you something
Do you have the capacity
To love me?
Do you have the will to
Love me the way I need
To be loved?
If I give you all of me
Will you take it and hold on
To it as if it was the last
Thing you needed on earth?
When I feel like the world is
Against me and life gets
Way too hard and I feel
Like I’m on the verge of
Giving up will you still
Love me? Will you still choose
Me? Are you able to love me
Ruthlessly? Are you able to
Love me unconditionally?
If you see me deeply reaching
Out for you will you reach back?
Feel like my love may be too deep
For you I can love without hesitation
I’m thinking these questions because
I’m Looking at you and I can see the hesitation