No escaping it
I see it everywhere
Crawling into their brains
& into mine
Making me numb and apathetic
titillated with the understanding of trivial knowledge
Knowing my neighbor's
trip to Costa Rica
& Breakfast sandwich
rather than knowing my neighbor
Clubbed into submission
among weak and docile beings
Masculinized women
& feminine men
Wearing glass of automated knowledge
Sharing nothing
But the sadness of consciousness
In world that's asleep
We gave birth to AI so
a facsimile of life could go on,
when everywhere else is death

Push pin



Soda & fleas tongue

sweet



Normalized by 5





with a chip in place

Unlock it now



Ruiners WASP. And guns pointing

cavity

unlike gestation

Wound up : impulse bit blown . leak away red res red red red

          redvred red

bleeeeeeeeeep
FOR THE MOMENT

FOR THE MOMENT


CAN'T WITHDRAW

CAN'T OBSESSS ----- HALF BAKED. ,, ON A CRUMB ,, 3 YEARS AGO,

WHY'
WHY

HALF 2 A MOON

and then I listen.

packed in a gross cage.

love like  a zebra.

I **** the clover,  I **** her deep, like a pulse in.  July.

no more sleeping.


hanging from your blum
.

god told me no lies .                                      stained

I know I'm saying goodbye now
It's why I kept my reservations because I knew we'd get here, even through all the intimate moments, it's always just talk.
Just the next time you say you belong to someone I hope you remember me.
Looking into their hopeful eyes knowing full well you have no intention of honoring the promise.
**** my life.

I'm too old to care, yet here I am

ok

Depression is where sadness is no longer comfort.
You lay like a corpse on your recliner and the flies buzz around and the food tastes like ****
And you can *** 30 times and you may as well ****** in a jug.
Your hair is messy
And your eyes are strained and the neighbors are yelling and there's a thin blue film which covers everything.
depression is like dancing without a song
And without anyone to care when you've fallen flat on your back
And the windows won't open and the carpet is grey

Sad muggy night where the air is stale and the brown leaves hiss along the street with apathy
It reminds me of everything that is wrong, of everything that shouldn't have been

The spider gathers another moth in her web , the lamps are amber like marmalade

Escort
Picked her up on"Eagle" and H
"Hey babe what's your rate?"
"120"
"Okay get in, let's have fun :)"
She gets in and it's pleasant. Her name is Jaeda, and is a soft Latina, smooth and tiny, young. I rub her thigh. Im not a cop. She smiles. She tells me of her home. We drive to the motel. It reeks of smells. I take off my clothes.
"woah your tattoos are crazy"
She slips on a ****** and inserts me in her mouth and starts *******. Bobbing up and down I rub her neck. I hear footsteps upstairs and a screaming lady. I'm hard. She says to insert into her now and mount. I do that and start thrusting. I start pounding her little teen *****, tight as my fist. I pound and pound and she moans and asks something about my hair. It's casual and the *** is an afterthought. I finish and *** and she puts her clothes on and it's as though I didn't even **** her and had her toes in my mouth mere seconds ago. Sweet girl but like a phantom, like most of life's experiences. I drive her back to her spot. Motown plays and cars keep whisking away. I stretch out my hand to kiss hers and say
"Thank you"
She laughs and walks to the street. A shadow obscures her form and I drive home.

funeral Mass will be celebrated for Margarita "Maggie" Iglesias  at 1: 00 p.m. , at Sacred Heart Catholic Church today, November 28, 2020. Burial will follow at Palm Valley Memorial Gardens Cemetery in the Ceballos-Diaz Funeral Home of Edinburg. Sadie is in charge of arrangements.

Just to see where I go

She stared at me with cold eyes
"Hey what's up. Why are you staying at me?"
The words had no effect and she merely skittered to the back of the store.
It was really late or she was having latency issues on account of a Xanax binge.
I bought cigarettes like a ******* fool - it's so embarrassing nowadays and I practically say it under my breath. At least I buy the cool kind
"Marlboro 27s please"
I go home then watch pulp fiction and finish tattooing my arm and gulp my steel reserve. I live like a ******* goblin. I get so drunk that I start jacking off on the porch and eventually stop once the third car with its blinding light shakes me out of my stupor.
Now it's 6 am and I sleep. I dont dream. The window is frosted over and I will pray to Jesus.
I will take help from anyone at this point.
The gutter is too full and I'm standing naked in a pool of leeches. It's gone too far

being bugged at all hours,
at all hours, the ******* phone.

I wish I could incinerate it;
I will, one day.

or I will just end everything and the phone could be collateral damage

Sick of this suffering there is no respite.
In my head is a battlezone and nowhere to rest
I walk up and down the hall, maybe a chemical imbalance? But I take every hardship as something to endure for the sake of glory.
The pills would numb me,  but not to the realities of this plane of torment.
I would always know whilst sitting in my docile state that I gave in, and there could be nothing worse.
Even now I'm tormenting myself when most would readily accept help.
Hatred is what I feel, and it sustains when nothing else could. I feel no pain when I'm angry,  just a calm in knowing I'm still alive,  I'm not dead yet.
Or at least haven't been snuffed out. But the time will soon come.  When the echoes  stop repeating and it's the still bleating of an empty void. I don't know

2 seconds to write. Power off watch the shadow turn into mist

at the point of giving no *****
Im a lost cause
I need community
and belonging

Im severed from my tribe
a talking head with a lizard brain
hopscotching over coals

The hardest part is going on when you've already made your grave

Are there still beautiful things

Everyone looks the same afraid of judgement, afraid of criticism.
The same tattoos and placement and the same piercings and the same haircut and manner of speech and musical taste and the same sense of outrage and political persuasion, whether left, right or moderate. But they may as well be interchangeable when it concerns ad revenue; there's something they can sell you.
Just tired of being a part of this microcosm of bugs. I don't relate to you and likely hate you,
I want to be left alone but I also want to be understood,  somewhat

88

Standard eraser, jet black plume, Friday night settlement
Dependent on wires

Frail commerce at first petulant
Orange in detail, noon ground, bent and spent
Corner of a laughing
Depot

Fifty give a ****, **** it but don't duck it
Off to a sane sorrow,
Plastered in paradise and feeding mice. Weather 09

I keep saying every year that this is the day of celebration which finally means absolutely nothing, but I was wrong, there was an even greater threshold for me not giving a ****.
I'm just getting tired of living this flat circle existence

bought a little ****** guitar
and I'm now strumming the rising sun

it plays like like a
little mexican
baking beans in the doorway of an iguana


  I love to flick the b
and the tunes ring out
and I hear ''ah'' as the raisins moisten with the dew

god gave us music so we could cry alone in peace;
my own therapy
and I'm not judged

that is why I listen to mbop
and disco

put a rod into me

Endless neuroses

pulling the trigger takes courage
Jumping from a burning building
Is an of act of desperation
Where this ends I don't know
I keep walking towards the fire

you can make a poem out of a everything. I have my keyboard here and a piece of fabric from the bed bath and beyond catalog, fuscia green with specks of yellow -  
    green hazlemint coffee
and jug bottles line the table. I have a sharpie marker that doesn't work, and some cat socks on me- comfortable. a picture of a woman named Marie on the desk ;; a picture of a Shibanawa  illustration of a head with grey blood and the void of now
" sorry"
   it sounds good, and it feels good,  but what is sorry, if there's no accountability --
     I have no refuge in this storm, and you don't know me

Lush and pure
hands like pianos
Face like gesticulated larvae
The plunger weeps for my soul

I put the barrel in
And blow you away
Your brain like butter
I eat god

I slither among the vapid wind
I am done with you
I am released

Book book book 3 yelled
Clowns and a pipe with two
Stems

Hurted by forget repossessed paper clips in may lark dig

Who in the same by real have a shout sure of go

When you start you
Start to fly

anemic
emboldened
last dance dalliances

The literary equivalent of taking a big
**** in her mouth
Gouged out
And running to the ground
Down to your pretty toes

stomped on
A pigeonheld coward
Subservient to form rather than flow
Take out a loan
Go home
Spill your load
I've seen enough
You talk too much
& not enough

If I was to **** myself, it'd surely be today. I feel hollow as an abscessed heart.
This is why there are alcoholics.
This is why children grow into derelicts.
I can't escape the torment which circles my soul, and only the devil consoles me.

blue
berry,
tongue
sheet nine and ***, tied with tape, mouth full of seed we lay down in a grass dungeon.
hormones
like a fly in a trapped jar,
she straddles the spike and inserts 98
sticks of thermite. dissolving along lines of cold separation. neither knows how,
it descends like
fuel.
poke your eyes,
I **** the man and eat his mistake . Don't pretend there are vibrations anywhere but
here

along roses
Severed heads & lilting hands
the ***** throbs with ****
and the **** squirts mud
the woman swallows all filth
on hands and knees while maggots *****
in the dead air
mutated glances
Howling cathedrals

She is free from sin
And the impalement reaches disgorged viscera
They eat what's left of it
& Her
not much.  Thrown away like
always

12 years of dissociative fog
eating my cerebellum

So long as the fires burn in winter
There's a path forward to Bethlehem
I forgot what I was
Gonna say but that's like most days


I wanna put a barrel to the next politician and ask
They
To sing in they most sincere voice
It's hard to lie when
You're trying to feel something.

I wanna ask a ghost what's it's like to be so empty
&
who haunts them
Tonight I need reassurance

Brain is full of ****
Feel like I'm looking at a ***** mirror
This screen
seems smudged even though it isn't
the words are spinning in faint coherence

Im so tired of it all
I'm not even 30 & I already feel condemned.
I keep losing friends and acquaintances and 'love' and continue to rot
    in still motion.
I'm flabby and muscles are beginning to atrophy;
My cat ****** on my leg.
I ****** a hamster
And some drifter for a ticket to moulin rouge.
I took a risk the other day though; I'm going to set out and travel. It's what I've always wanted.
See the world from the eyes of a stranger.
I've dreamed 10 lives and I have another 9 to waste.
And this one was given away

I got paid today

oh I got paid

it was 3 chestnuts  and a used pair of socks straight from goodwill.

still musty

and with plenty of lint.


I work hard so I can feed my mouse

What I want to see is more blue, or maybe
Light greyish
Teal
Coated with sparkles
In a reflective aquarium
With eels and sponges,
Then I can go swim with my face facing the fishes like my friends in
    The deepest water, riding a  
bellowing whale to somewhere far far away

Words are tired
the pain is literal
Metaphors are
for the hopeful

I have no hope
It's only brought pain
Ask the ascetics

Ask the crackhead
in the ditch
Ask yourself

I'll lie to her
with her fat rolls &
tiny feet
"You are so ****, *** *** so ****"
All men lie to get *****

It's been harder lately and it's probably because my purposeless aura transmits through the phone screen in photonic dismal
decay

I **** her anyway. It's okay.
If I've learned anything it's that we are slaves to our selves til the end; salvation
   is when you can
Walk unfettered in a world of pain & lies
& Hate all that you think you love because the ones you love hate you the most

Something like that

thank you lime green
swimming pool with turtle neck doves that **** on  toddlers by the faculty
gym


thank you merica
  
  thank you iran

thank you god
  thank you
blm
  
thank you blt

  thank you mayo and chipotle sauces
   thank you my shoes for which I trample  blind mice
  thank
  you fathers of the land
  thank you  the dust which never settles and the hand which slaps .
thank you ,
liutenant dan . thank you  
          swallowers

I have obvious brain damage.
my perception is distorted
My fingers look foreign. The words come out weird. My internal monologue is stifled.
But I persist.
What's normal to you
Is abnormal to the next guy.
I'll still write a masterpiece with this broken brain;
I'll still see the world with murky eyes.
I've lived much longer than expected.
Everyday is a bonus.
Every new poem, every new song, every new
creation is a miracle.
an act of defiance
I'm glad I've left something - and I'm stronger than I thought

I am a scientist
people are the angle.
a party of it, I will also highlight
extensive issues

done reacting to how minorities
never forget my first Japanese boss.

(at a Japanese company, where this behavior was higher than I've experienced)
curt and ******

data
By the second week
off real quick
overconfident and mean


20 years of experience
Made myself essential very easily;
nobody bothered
Not genius ideas
automating &
pathetically inefficient
for one button

stamps
suh sun

Sit and watch a video in a cold room
I make food and sit
I watch   a  show it amuses me
SHOW ends
I splash water
And slash my arm. Walk the bug
Walk the dog.
Sit in position
Tape off
****
Now food and water empty finish and green jelly. Weights and some slice. My dead mother calls from across town. I can't pick up
Meanwhile the clock runs empty.  Shut eye then work. Get to work and be bashful. Put your **** in a vice grip and squash your humanity. roses in your hair. So beautiful I kiss your eyes and tuck you in.  Asleep like a baby and close the doors. They won't get you tonight if you beg.
Beg



Beg
Beg for your life you give in

the elephants

in the dancing hall
keep stomping on the mouse


the burger -king fries keep beating the lady into submission
until she
stops rubbing the hand-clock

the boy
keeps
kissing the elk as it moans in the night


the cat
keeps slapping the
fool as he tells his
story


the moon keeps
wondering if it's worth
even waking up

Time is relative.
The future present and past are all one.
Somewhere you've just been born
& Somewhere you are already decreased.
A spaceship could take you to see.
With your lips frozen
And heart still

What were your memories, hopes and dreams?
What did you make it mean?

And why did you ever worry

Little blue baby feet are crawling towards you and the door is shut
GOO GOO GAH GAHH
It ***** on your blood and shrinks your body down to a prune,
The feeding season musnt
Be disturbed

Tapping a phone screen in a yellow room with white walls,
breathing in chemical solution from Tuesday's
mold treatment
The ham sits half eaten, half defrosted.
There are dead women in my head who despite being dead still haunt my soul with vindictiveness.
There is animal hair on the rug and amimal feces in the flower ***.
A horn sprouts up from behind the TV wall.
There is a percolating coldness and it falls over me with the understanding that there is no escape.
My car is in the junkyard, my money
is in a billionaire's pocket,
my sanity is squandered concentrating on vicarious social media delusion.
I am a modern day human and nothing is wrong here.

What used to be hard is now soft

& what used to hurt feels like laughter

.



If you push it in maybe it will

Work

So tired as to be delirious; the duck quacks in the barnyard and the mouse suckles on cow
droplets, hale stacked up like so,  and the little girl dances in the shadow light.
"I'll be dead soon"
  so will I 
 I've made plans and I'm never late

Tinnitus rings out in an otherwise tapioca colored room with frog mugs lining the dresser

A picture of a flower is sat bent along the wooded beam

There's a dusty web with a spider's 13th ****** hanging behind me

There's a shoe of only 1 lace adorned
& A cutthroat lingering in the hall

If I had to do it all over again
Id be born somewhere tropical
Then drown when
The waves hit me

This is too much

There is 5 feet of snow outside my door.
There are toppled trees
and mangled branches.
There are fires in a distant hellscape and cannibalized flesh juicy to the touch.
There are mothers clutching infants with hollowed out eyes and distended bellies.
There are tongues cut off and thrown into a barrel.
There are leeches clinging to a healthy man.
There's an ape imitating a man and a monkey ******* on a teenager's nub.
There is a pit of food but no forks.
There is a laughing clown but no comedy.
There is a drooling dog and an emaciated cat.
The fountains filter no more and the leaves rustle in the abyss.
No shade, no shelter, no hope. so
I go back
In my room and lay down

"WHAT'S YOUR WORDCOUNT?
WHAT'S YOUR WORDCOUNT?" he shouted

I don't know, but I make my words count

You're my future wife
You're my girl.
I hold your hand
I kiss you
I bite your lip and kiss your nose
I nuzzle your breast and massage your feet
I caress your *****
I rub your back
I talk to you
I watch movies with you
I laugh with you and tease you, and you me
I make you angry and I make you sad
I make you cry
I kiss your neck
I wipe your tears
I embrace you and kiss your smile
I walk with you
Hand in hand
I see you in my dreams
I think of you constantly
I put my faith in you when I had none
I give you my time,  and my love,  and my best efforts
I want you
And I need you
But I don't own you
You were borrowed and I hope they forget.
The universe has collected enough
debts.
Just let me have
     this

sun ,  
i hate you.
    I hate you as you rise,
  as your gerber face creeps over the grass.
i  hate the purple water and the ants
   which march in unison to battle drums .
  i hate the orange juice smile as you pack away your things,
  i hate the
  whisper when it's already lost.  miles ahead,
   i hate a few things -- but the list gets shorter as i get
   older.
why hate what you cant change?

Elliot smith

you're a genius,

youre a
poem
that doesn't need to rhyme,     a thought without contrivance.

I know you didn't **** yourself,

but the papers need a headline.  a poet can never rest