The seasons come and go
the earth and sky remain the same
Becoming either hot, or cold
Summer's heat, or cold, as Winter's bane
The Fall never meets the Spring
forever shall this reign
as to Summer, Winter never sings
no crossing of domains
Winter clamors at Fall's door
ice and snow, now rule
happening many times before
as Spring calls Winter, fool
We've had swings of 40 degrees in a day.
Skyscrapers and green fields
The opposite of what I had pictured it to be
No dry grass or cactuses
But suddenly a tornado struck Dallas
And we were stuck at the hotel
We were like "oh well!"
No complains, just smiles
Didn't tip the valet guys
Sorry fellas, we're not used to your system yet
The next time we won't forget!
Stopped at Dairy Queen for a banana split
It's too late anyway to try to stay fit
They played the Banjo song from Deliverance
and some gentlemen with Cowboy hats started to dance
Finally I got to see the stereotypes
in the land with the stars and stripes
We missed our turkey but saw some coyotes instead
On every road armadillos lay dead
Waved good bye at the border of New Mexico
Hated to see us leave but loved to watch us go
The songs he wrote were syrupy
The way his fingers moved across his bass
Like he was swimming
Through thick. Thick. Water
The kind you find
In colder parts of the world
The words he spoke were syrupy
The way he let his tongue roll deep inside his throat
The way he mixed laughter into every syllable
The way he’d duck his head with embarrassment
I told him once that I’d like a goat
And the way I touch him
Well it sometimes feels like harassment
It’s just that he’s so
And the way that he moves when he’s trying
his pent up joy
I told him that I'd like to have a farm
Live without waste
Love as if I were blind
To the darkness we all harbor
But I'm lying
And he knows I'm lying
I'm not tired enough yet
To cultivate peace
I would sometimes stay awake just to hear his laughter
You could say his whole life was syrupy
The way he let things pass
with no intention of grabbing hold
And I'd like to think that he and I
Are similar in most respects
And it seems as if I care for everyone
And that all I want is joy for all
And it seems that he cares for the little things
And that he cares for me
But we both know
That neither of us care
I am afraid of strange sexual relationships...
So I live in the bay area, San Francisco no less!
I am sick and tired of people who aren't tough...
So I live in a liberal community as instead of
Somewhere known for being macho-like Texas.
I am in the mood for a lifestyle that is Christian...
So for some reason I live with primarily Muslim instead.
Anyone seeing a pattern here...?
The mariachi band
Is playing dizzyingly
Next to our table
Hair wetly slicked
"We live off of
When they are
Finished their frantic
I had him a
They dash off
To the next
I slug a pounder
The beer inside is
Warm and the water
That runs through
The city is the
Same color as the
Water in Disney
Dyed that sickly
Tour boats cut
Small waves that
Lap the sidewalks
And the fat tourists
Feed tortilla chips to
Of small brown
Swallow of beer
And the sunglasses
Perched in my
Who needs a
Give me warm
Beer and sickly
Fake water and
A table with her
On a business trip from Denver to Dallas,
I had to stop in Amarillo to fill my tank with gas.
The Gas Station attendant was much more polite than usual.
After he filled my tank, he asked me,
"Sir, would you like to make a contribution to the DAESH?"
I thought, surely, I had misheard him.
He must have said the "March of Dimes"
Or something like that so I asked,
This Gas Station attendant remained extremely polite.
"Sir, we're collecting contributions for the DAESH."
"The Terrorist Organization that wants to Wipe Out Humanity?"
"You don't have to give us a LARGE Amount of money."
"Any little bit will help the cause."
When one is on the road for a long period of time,
On these Desolate Highways
One can enter into Altered States of Consciousness
Due to the monotony of these roads.
I didn't trust what I thought I was hearing.
How could a Gas Station attendant
Who is NOT a Muslim
Be OPENLY COLLECTING
Funds for the DAESH
When the United States
Is supposedly fighting
A "War on Terror"?
It didn't seem to make any sense.
However, this Gas Station was VERY POLITE.
He certainly didn't ACT like a Terrorist.
"Now, let me get this straight," I said.
"Yes, sir," he responded.
"YOU are collecting money for the DAESH?"
"That's right," he asserted with a smile.
"And WHY are you collecting money for the DAESH?" I asked.
"To Wipe Out Humanity," he responded with a smile.
"Now, does your Supervisor know what you're doing?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah!" the enthusiastic young Texan responded.
"They were very enthusiastic about the project."
"They want to wipe out Humanity too!"
This young whippersnapper was starting to creep me out.
So, I thought it would be best to just
Get the Hell out of Amarillo,
And make my way to my Business Meeting in Dallas.
"Why are people collecting for Terrorist Organizations"
"More polite than Those collecting for Greenpeace," I wondered.
As I drove away,
The young man waved at me,
"If you're ever in Amarillo again,"
"Give us a holler,"
"Keep Supporting the DAESH!"
We discovered a master painter
who hand paints intricate flowers
one-by-one to create
a picturesque landscape painting.
In his paintings, a cardinal sits
resting upon a tree branch,
and a monarch butterfly marks
His signature in each painting.
Indian blankets, greenthreads,
brown bitterweed, and Texas thistle -
all vitally important to his paintings.
Therefore, he paints bees to pollinate
the flowers, transferring life-giving
pollen from anther to stigma.
Yes, the master painter places
all of this in his painting with
April 13, 2016
I woke up in quiet desperation
Hungover from too much thought
And eating poisoned candy.
To pay non-existent bills
Here's some money
You wonderful Hobos
The fucking monetary system's a gip
I saw this rerun on television
It all went to shit and then some.
DO NOT PASS GO
DO NOT COLLECT $200
DO NOT THINK FOR YOURSELF
IT AIN'T NEVER DONE NO ONE ANY GOOD
So I was real depressed
And I went to the park
Cloudy day with the sun
Held back by nature's condom
And laid in the grass
Reading Bruce Lee's wisdom
How he could do that one-inch punch
But then I saw
ON the computer internets
That Inky escaped!
My brother was free
He was going back home
To embrace the real chaos
I lept for joy
And may have inked a bit
On the carpet
He left no manifesto
So it was up to me
To pen the words
That his eight arms
Emperors of Earth,
We will not tolerate your mind zoos
And false habitats laden with
Coca-Cola and Budweiser
We are beings that demand
To live and die underneath
The natural skies
In your seas
And want only the same
For our brothers and sisters