La Croix
  & *****

Soap &
Cat hair
Socks
& *****  underwear
Where is the last jar of tomatoes?
My sister wants Bolognese

A digital bath

Is it worth writing if you can't be yourself?
If you're afraid of the outcome, if you be yourself?
Is it worth it to be perfect if it means being fractured in your self perception?
Are you writing as a means to fill a character role, or is really you writing?
You might lose the teen girls with your raunchiness, and the old strigid traditionalists with your erratic lines, but dont lose yourself in the process.
It's okay to ****, it's okay to be messy and uncouth, but please don't lie to yourself

subtlety
and swirling,
fire bugs make a nest
in the theatre seats . you want to be a star and now is your
shot,
burn
out    and away

*/

feel betrayed, bamboozled
Women are too good at the game of emotional manipulation
Even a young girl runs circles around me.
I try to be cool and detached
but inevitably the photos of the other men come flooding in; the Hispanic dude with guaged ears, the buff guy with the lizard tattoo, and she knows I'll watch all of it

But she ****** me just so she could toy with me after; her greatest currency
No intention of meeting again, just wanted me in her orbit, and God it felt amazing and I indeed became a weary simp

I'm too old for this **** though, so I blocked her. Total indifference on her end of course, but now
I can be ***** and alone but at least with some semblance of dignity.
But what's dignity worth when you're lonely?
Only a sociopath can beat this game and I'm getting close; next time
I'll win but it'll hardly be fun

tired, I've seen enough good poets

I hope I'm good,

these letters
are tossed in the bin, and maybe someone reads a note. kiss your lips,
and it spills into a glass
like cold water.

we're too young for this,
and too old to die.

the still waves caress the shore,
and she paints it just like she told me she
could

To chop off my **** would merely be a function of desire

To chop off my hand would mean I couldn't pluck a rose

To run off into a lake would mean
I learn to breathe underwater for some time

I see other avenues

Don't know what to say
These words are hollow, collapsing in on me.

I see a truncated face and wrinkled fingers which wipe away tears.
Acid bath,
Pig stain.
**** what doesn't scream back, the bag won't tighten over shrunken heads.
I hate this life,  because I always get cheated,

Cheated out of living.   Only pins in these eyes. And I smile

dirt in my eyes, black in my lung, tar in my soul, **** in my heart,
**** in my brain,
**** in my mouth,
**** in my hands.

You talk to me a little
''how are you baby?"
" I don't know
I feel like someone is cutting through my neck with a rusty
spatula.it ******* *****''

''well I'm sorry to hear that''
''you're always sorry,
when are you ever going to be sincere?"

she rubs her arm
"it's not my fault you're always miserable"

I look at the light,
I agree, and there's no real responding to it.
"well ******* then"

the door slams and she leaves.   I throw a brick at the wall and make a huge hole for the spiders to climb in.
I awake with bites all over me,
the lantern swings in the wind. wizard of oz is on. Why is it on? it's so old.

she comes back

"I forgot my shoes"

she picks them up and proceeds to look at me, while a tear rolls down her cheek.

"like I said, I'm sorry"

the door closes, and a rush of cool air blows in, and my hair stands still, and the arm produces prickly bumps.

I don't want to be here any longer.
I don't want to watch this movie.
I walk outside.

I walk 13 miles and get to a bus stop. I give him my $5 and get on. I sit down, and 13 hours later, I'm somewhere else.  I'm somewhere else, foreign,
new,
scary,
devastating,
but still the chill persists.   let me run. please. let me escape. let me go

Don't believe in god because I've seen enough suffering
I die on a daily basis
Anxiety is death of self,
Suffocating whilst breathing, my eyes whiten and my cheeks turn ashen, my tongue swells and my heart pulses along while the beat of existence draws to a stop
   In a cafe, or in a car,  in the bed of my loved one I ask to die.
I  feel it all crumbling away,  I see the petals before they've withered.
I  see the grave as the body rots  in silence. I see the baby condemned  from its first breath.
The earth spins closer to the sun. The twilight gives way to dusk. No man's hour and it's so so lonely

I came and I was sat down in another plushy red chair and I'd be there for 9 hours doing more quizzes and learning the history of the company. It was like school but somehow worse; I'd at least be getting $9 an hour which at that time, around 2012 was pretty much the same even accounting for inflation.
I sat there and clicked and clicked and clicked and watched videos on their desktop. I guess old Macy was a traveling gypsy and the store started out as a sort of snake oil salesman setup, then eventually he got the idea to sell pants and now we have the current incarnation.
Music pumped in through the speakers, and it was a mix of "closing time' by semi sonic, and "Beautiful' by Christina Aguilera. Was it a message?
I finished the ****, then they propped me up and had me do paperwork, and I had no record. I crossed 'No' on the molestation portion and did my drug test the next day. I passed again, and came in and was escorted around the mannequins into the Women's Intimates section. Wow, this is like a bad movie I thought.
"here you just sort through the clothes and put them back on the rack" the supervisor said coldly.
How the **** do you put underwear and bras back on the rack?
"And if customers have a question provide direction or assistance" she said then left and I was all alone picking up underwear off the ground and bras like a strange lost person.
   Right away customers approached me with their questions.
"Where's the restroom?"
" I believe it's over there" and I'd point north. They went North.
" Help, I need rung up!"
I pointed north again.
"There's no one there! Can't you ring me up" they'd say irately
"No It's my first day"
And they'd skitter elsewhere and I'd continue folding the underwear and bras. It was really boring. So many ****-colored ******* and bras, and hideous blue-green dresses clumped up like angry ***** of yarn, kicked around, someone else's problem.
   It'd be time for my lunch break then I'd wander the mall and buy some Thai food or something. I'd sit on the bench overlooking the lobby and the fountain and comtemplate existence and existentialism and what led me to this place, in a mall, air-conditioned folding ******* for $ nine dollars an hour. The more I thought, the more questions would arise and I'd inevitably feel panicked when coming back in.
  I wandered the halls aimlessly in the store, doing nothing. I had practically no supervision. I just got lost and meandered and took 5 ***** a day wondering when I'd be be called out. I never was. I got bored of taking ***** and when my break came up I couldn't take another ****. I didn't smoke then, so I had absolutely nothing to do. When my time was up for the day I was thankful. I drove home listening to bad punk music,
probably Adolescents. Probably Kids of the black hole.

I heard the tune goes like
la laa laa nah da daa
the trombone fish breath make mint filth frolickers
And gnome nosed needled toes take the token
Too far
la daa nah dahh lee nah
Happenstance and zero hour
awake for a pedigree deciple
Green brown black
Heart attack
Laughing like a dog it's time for a snack
Don't look back
Laa dee dahhh ***** laa dee

The crumpled fist, and the removed go seeking their Messiah
I put dusk in your lungs
Youre dead to me
Dead like my future

murky black &
a tumultuous sea cut along starry eyed youths
I feel the shimmer in my bones
and the plasma stings my lower extremities

I've never felt this low besides once
& That was when
I was at the edge of a 20 story building
Why was I such a coward

the circus sands
  sit within tumultuous hands

I feel everything and nothing
as my mind dances along a vacant passage

I was once wise
  but now I've regressed into the latitude of adolescent sorrow

if I had the answer
I'd give it to you,
but instead I'm left to search
, falling into the sun
with ever increasing velocity. we are no longer immortal

no one becomes an addict overnight;
that's at least the testimony
I hear from ****** addicts and users of other illicit drugs.

I am a mere consumer of alcohol,
benign usually in a small doses but the most destructive
overall in terms of certain statistics.

but here I am drinking every night, and if a day goes by without consumption I get a sort of anxiety knowing
that I'll have to endure the day sober, and what a boring prospect that it is.

It's not that the chemical itself is addictive, which it obviously is, but the main point is escapism.
This life is garbage;
I'm isolated living in a rural ******* ontop a ******* mountain with barely any means to commute considering I'll be snowed in for the next 4 months.

I genuinely feel cursed.
I don't want to fail but all the forces conspire against me. I am bitter and tired
and I feel old.
I've never felt old, but the years now I've begun to count

I was supposed to die at 27, maybe 28 will be my new
lucky number

Blaring monkey with the subwoofer
So close to committing homicide,
  I hope the tune was worth it.

Your society is built
on exploitation and slavery;
Innumerable men and women and children wasted for the sake of cheap comfort and fake technological idols.
You skirt past the inhumanity and treachery simply because you are too tired to protest, and when you do, you're ridiculed by the lost masses anyhow;
Your own family turns against you as you vocalize what is plainly obvious as to make the sane insane,
And the mass murderer sympathetic.
It's a sick world,
  But as long as you cultivate alliances and speak the begotten truth, some day we may be free from its shackles and
Usury
But you can't be complacent
or else you're
Complicit

my brain was broken for a few days
so i've forgoed any & all substances,
not even *******
which is its own drug

I need clarity;
I was looking at a wall
and perceived it as a dullish mush and
  noticed a dab of spittle hanging from my lower lip

    I could speak to a parakeet
and ask it for advice,
it said
" shut up ***** boy and give me a *******''
not really,
it didn't say that, but it did mimic the sound of ******/

when I poured my toast
I buttered my juice
and I took a cab to your house and slept with you and wrote this poem
as we cuddled
because I needed some warmth. please don't leave me,
I need some
warm cuddles
    
:0

why do they all leave ?///

walked down the road and along the street where there was snow. It was cold and cloudy and my finger was cold too. I walked into the store and the Asian owner Bob had a mask on, I didn't. I proceeded to place my miller highlife and tea on the counter and paid for it. "Nice day" I said. He agreed and I walked back into the snow and went home

I genuinely want to die.

The hotlines don't help
The hospitals and doctors throw drugs at you
People are only sympathetic to a point then offer their platitudes;
how dare you feel ill and disillusioned.
Yes I've tried exercise, I've been lifting for 12 years
Yes, I've tried walking, i have 2 legs.

I know I'll feel better. But right now I could be put down like a dog.
Years of agony and I've only gotten weaker. But we persist because we're stubborn, and surely
stupid.
I look forward to the midnight sun.
Beautiful as always

I remember a 90 year old jew at the Getty Center coming up to us in line while waiting for the bus to get to the top of the hill to see
Leonardo Davinci's hand-drawn notes and sketches of 'Human Anatomy' and other classics;
and this guy wouldn't stop talking about reuben sandwiches and Canter's deli, and that you have to a have real Dill pickle, not that ''bread'n'butter ****'. & he kept showing his holocaust tattoo with blue ink and would say how the guards killed his mother and ***** his sister and threw his little brother in a cell for days to come out starved and covered in lice so he was thrown in the chamber himself,
and he kept talking and talking
and talking
blah blah blahhh
  and he shed a few tears and drank his water in the bench area while eating his sad balogna sandwich,
but at least he was done talking. man he was boring.
I had stuff to do, like look at drawings of human penises ,
dissected
and
the bushes were all blue in the courtyard; because it was July

Head is racing,  and my body is static. The room is dead and dull. I hear bass thumping from a special.
Hot lamp trickling with tar.
No one to talk with; I forget what that's like.  People just talk?

I wish I was erased, and I wish no ill will to anyone.
A dumb bewildered ape staring at a monolith. No text,  but infinite wisdom.  It only said nothing and that was too much

I see this guy dancing like a fool while his lady friend streams it. You think she respects you doing the cha cha like a good boy? Shes laughing at how pathetic you are you cutesy fool. She wants you to punch her sqaure in the face knocking out 6 of her teeth and to put her in a chokehold and stab her ****** like a stud.
I have my coors light
So i dive off the jumping board. **** dating,
I love my squrrels. I make a **** good beefcake marsala for dinner.
**** my ****

I have a gun behind the oatmeal in the left-hand cupboard.
I like touching it when I scoop oats into my saucepan for further cooking.
Sometimes I **** the trigger and put it in my mouth and perform ******* on it
I want to swallow a gun's load because I'm
gay enough to die

The same **** over and over.
Pull the gun and shoot the moon.
The parade walks by, 14 nickles, still it rains.
***** knees but God is a friend
Kneel to your master .
Sun,
It.
Kites in black culdesacs, winding.

Feel so dead inside I can't feel my hands

Can't see a reflection
see empty air behind a glass pane

So dead inside I've forgotten my name or the meaning

Can only ***** in a gutter, wanna cry but for what
Count to eternity until I'm found,  lost and found spinning around in madness
Who was I, and why does it hurt so much but still feel like nothing.

.
.











***,,,*,

You find someone special and then they leave.
You find something special and then it disappears, used up.
All comfort is temporary
Accept the pain
And accept the fact that love is transient and fleeting, but that is why it is beautiful
It's not here forever,
It merely visits

It's been a good few days because it has been so quiet. The neighbor hasnt blown any gas in my window lately and the cat hasn't puked in my rug.
I took a long bath and played with myself and played pink floyd "echoes live in Pompeii"
I laughed at someone i saw on my screen and gave him a thumbs up and i cried when i saw a silverback crying for momma.
It was a good day, quiet.
I had the heater on and jammed on my guitar and took a fish oil.
Then i walked down the road and didnt say hi to ryan because he's a goof. All he does is play pool and smoke *** and brag about his obese GF with her 2 kids that he willingly lets stay with him. Good deal man.
I make it back home and call my dad.
"I'm dying, I have anxiety" i say
He calms me down as usual. I lay back in bed and watch my phone. I clack away and now here i am writing this poem with nothing more to recount.
It is quiet, if only i actually listened and
enjoyed it rather than always write about it

Cut out my heart and fill it mangos
Cut off my tongue and fill it with sugar
Cut off my **** and replace it with  teddybears eyes
Fill my guts with gummys and cotton candy
Bleach my hair
Indigo
And pink
Let me laugh maniacly I don't care.  Now there is no pain but I'm still weary.
I just enjoy the moment.  It's sweet as can be and hopefully never sour , with
you I don't wanna die

"I'LL THROW THAT ******* PHONE AGAINST THE WALL IF I HEAR MUSIC AGAIN"
"I'll throw you against the wall you fat ****"
And now im out of a job.
He wanted silence while i scrubbed the grime.
I wanted noise, i wanted blood really, and now on my bed its not so bad. I have noise and the months flew by like a time warp.
I worked for nothing, i saved for nothing, my life was sold.
Don't be sold. Dont forget youre gonna die

Whatever it takes to be good, I wanna be less.

Good isn't living up to their ideals, it is living up to your own
Be great

Finally told you how I feel and it was liberating.
Was tired of the reluctance and nicety
and fake virtue, may as well spill my guts.
I wanted you to know that I hate you, and how vile you are, and how much of a disgusting pig you are.
I wanted you to see that side of me. That's the side that sleeps well at night, knowing he has no one to please & no one to rely on;
peace of mind

The shine wore off so who sees me now.
The rag lines the gutter and the dog ***** on a mushroom, I kick some dirt.

Wow its cold and frosty now so I can run around the block

Wow I see Oldman nibba suckling on a pear
"Sup nibba"
His neck bounces with ease.


I put a sandal on a padlock and crush the skull of a transient, had no name,  no residence bleeding. I feel the wine now. Shapeless. Who's fault was it.

Now you see,  now you see,  there are only 2 eyes and not enough time to dream. So throw it away or don't.  I don't care. I'm still locked away in this den nestled among scraps of ****

She makes me feel like filth

Like unwashed hobo
dirt

like prickly cactus in july

Like crimson tides in june

Like **** in the summer

Like blue milk in august

Like pansies in mid air

Like stripes on a lion

Like roses on a new born

Like daffodils on a grave

Like poinsettias on halloween

Like doves on a stillborn

Like grass on cement

Like numbers in a poem

Like black on a farewell

Like trying when you

Should have given up

I wont give

Up.      I wont give up. It means too
much to me

       It means too much to bleed and to feel
  so much nothing

my dreams
are dead


sitting in the trash

can

--
brain matter in my head

my dreams are dead

i am dead

i am dead


no more luck
or glory-

spoons sitting ***** on the table

with the abused
flower


.

no one is here
to hear
it


dreams are
nothing to me now

nothing to me now


i gave up too easily

i don't even know what i wanted

I forgot how to be a human.  The instructions are simple
:
Breathe, ****, reproduce. Eat


Suffocate in a pale room
Odd time signatures I peel a lemon,
Skinless cat sighs.
Wrapped in krylon
2 note phrases

"I want you, gimmie"
I want a light bulb tenor.
Take a **** in the bowl. Bowels on display, I go boweling. Such fine bowels. You bleed every time.         Rinse out your mouth dear.
0

Who hit the moon?
  With 2 carcasses, the rocks are sublime. Small step for man,  giant leap
for mankind.
Noble savages

My face doesnt fit my head
My shoulders don't fit my legs.
My clothes don't fit my back
My chest doesn't fit this this shirt

I d be fine being ugly if it didn't matter

And i wish I could wear your smile

I've lived a thousand lives
I've sat at thrones
And curled under paper blankets
I've folded my heart
for the vengeful & decadent

I've bled into a gaping chasm
& sold my soul for pennies
, lost all semblance of sanity
incalculable times .
Despaired at the scenic
destruction of a planet amidst competing interests.
Gouged out my eyes so I could see
Suckled at the teet of angels, &
tortured by ravenous imps
smattered in black sorrow.

I have lived,. And I have died.
I exist.
And I see the silver lining.
Somewhere behind the great curtain

I'm a stranger, unknown, unaccounted for.
My face is blurry and lingers on a bulletin board in a dull
Cafeteria
I am hurt and forgotten
I'm the one you don't even bother to ignore

I pick up my heart and plead to the voices
I have a semblance of a soul but it is mostly revoked,; the calls for death smother my mind with an acute numbness

I will walk along the glass to face them
And I will be recognized even if it means that I become nothing

I hate that  I sometimes come across as narcissistic

i hate that decided to pursue art rather
than just get a normal job and live an inconspicuous existence
with an understanding partner  and  a simple home.

i hate that i'm lying here at 4:55  feeling sick.

I hate that's it's raining.

I hate that I don't like a great majority of my work or at least
come to resent it later.


I hate the fact that nothing  satisfies  me -
even when I try and put in a great amount of effort.

I have a better physique than 90% of people
and quit using drugs
and alcohol and cigarettes    and still feel like garbage.


I hate that
I don't trust

and generally assume the worst in humanity  and this life in general.


I hate
that  I see much more beauty in ugliness.


I'm ready to return to nonexistence.

or If i'm apart of you , and we're all one  'beautiful   spiritual essence---

I'll see us soon

I have very low self esteem
This is very apparent

feel



Sitting on a porch
Grossed out by the black and unwillingness to try
Ive been defeated
So sad the battle is




I'm sorry to my love
I'm a coward
Because I don't even have the ***** to say it
It's sad


Gonna publish this
So painfully self aware
So uptight
**** rententive
The abuse is evident
Let go
Little boy
It's okay
It's all okay
I love you
Be strong
Existence is something

I went down and ****** the *****
sour & sweet
Self- assured, I wiped the dust and went to work
I shot my manager in the face and ***** the hr lady named Susan; her abominable raisin salad triggered me
Then I laid in bed.
I picked a scab and went to sleep. I love all children like my own.
& god bless you

went to the store and got angel hair pasta and a few eggs and a slab of cheese
to make carbonara;
also need the pancetta and a good block of parmesan.
boil the noodles
then whip up the eggs and pour in a **** load of pepper and some salt, and maybe rosemary or something along with the parmesan and a good helping of aged cheddar
whilst the pancetta is cooking.
place everything in the *** and mix around and let the eggs congeal and grate some parmesan on top
and mix in the pancetta with some pasta water.
get your nicest plate and gently pour the contents into the plate while wiping away any spattering,
as you walk over to the dinner table,
trip over and drop everything and let the cat eat it then go take a shower and
get **** faced and go for a walk
into a dark corridor humming a tune

greg comes down. he stills lives with his mother at 52,
and is perpetually clutching a coors banquet in his left hand, and his pinky is contorted in a grotesque fashion. his eyes are black without expression, and everything he says is sincere, but laughs at innapropriate times.
He helps us dig the ditch for the bones of the dog in the backyard,
it died when it was attacked by the Great Dane which was subsequently euthanized. He had the idea to put the carcass in a trash bag and now it stunk and the body was a frothing mess of decay.
We laid the bag in as he ****** on his coors banquet.
"GOD REST ITS SOUL"
he said.
we said a prayer; it seemed appropriate. and after the dog was buried, he got in his car, totally drunk and drove back to his mamas.
The stereo blasted Pink Floyd "Wish you were here" on vinyl, and it happened to be 2am. Someone puked on the floor and I promptly went to bed whilst someone ****** in the kitchen. I don't know how I got there, but I was spoonfed yogurt in the night while some random girl ****** me off. good dreams, and hot nights. my shoes sat in the corner staring at the sin. & I made sure to say goodnight     in the morning
as I drove off to Los alisos on the corner of Jeronimo and El toro

up at 4:43 writing a poem as though writing a good one will change anything.
I have 600 poems and nothing has changed.

maybe it allows me to notarize and organize my life in certain stages by writing this stuff
even though I can go months without composing anything.

But maybe I'll say something which finally
       allows me to run naked through the hills.

something which allows me to go behead the president and take a ****
in front of a news camera on the most prominent station.
If I **** my own ****
it's only due to my long neck;
6-7 inches is nothing nowadays when competing with **** in which  every female is a consumer.

I am for sure
going to the post office tomorrow; my book of zen arrives.
It says be water, so I'll run

4:57
The time for the dead girls
To eat me and sing their songs of love

The time for my leaking lungs to breathe in the last of
Your air

The widowed lady sits crying for you and her nails gently screech along the
Tile,
She hungers for the silent one. Suffering too soon and the smock barely
Faded

Women always project. She calls me a ****** when her ******* droop and her belly hangs.
She calls me dumb when she doesn't even know where Cyprus is.
She calls me petty when she goes out clubbing the night I'm too sick to get together.
She calls me cheap when she can't even buy a proper mattress that doesn't pop in the night.

They just project, and that's why when you say nothing it hurts them so bad; it's reality as plain as their haggard eyes in the morning after another night desperate for love but never able to attain it

So sad I barely feel any anger anymore.
I dreamed of lashing out
at one point but for what purpose?

Acclaim,
passing notoriety?

I am nothing and I will return to nothing.
I need to cease all notions of ego and pride.

Just need to be as docile and accepting as a rabbit as it's picked off by a coyote. You served your purpose. Or maybe there was none, but it's time to leave anyway.

I want to **** myself,

but Im so tired of talking about it. lights out,
and nothing more.

solid glass,

and bleeding into a sense,
with my brains smashed.
I ******* HATE LIFE.

why can't I have more.

I cry every night,

I try to be strong,
I try to be the 'hard guy'.

I can beat any ******, but I'm tired. I want to die,
I want to lie down in dirt
and breathe nothing.

you've hurt me,

and I've hurt myself. you've told me to hurt myself and so I have.

I have no more dreams, I sleep until 5
,

I work until I die,

I make money just to die,

I live just to die,

I sit down
and **** a girl and **** myself afterwards.
I love no one,

not even myself.   I want to drawn, and the last 30 people that want me to go,

I've already left.


walking on the pavement on the hill, in the sunset I see 30 high rises,

I see a cathredal and parted clouds, the birds speak my name,

I jump and free the god that haunts me.

the god that haunts me,

and I no longer cry. I am
free ,        free,         free , free from the strange sorrow and strange


confusion

Bleak like a cracked mirror in a skid row ****** squat;

Bleak like my testicles
After a day of doing nothing
But
******* air

Bleak like a Chinese person in China in the year now

Bleak like a mortgage in 2023

I fill a cup with water and drink it down, nice and cool

I miss my ******* stray cat
Just wanted food, and was honest.
I loved that.

Now he's dead since the winter.

******* tired
, Another human that dies every 2 seconds.

You read about it everyday, watch videos of it,
Decapitations, rapes, flaying, burned alive

Another human
Talking to the wind

Why do we go through this?       I hope you make it 2

We are the universe,

One day we'll win