the beautiful boy


the beautiful boy,           now.   a memory
wagging a tail

forced to sell
   weeds
                                  listening to a stale
noise,

        in a tin can.


I HAVE a 2-day pass to Wendy-

fork
with. no expectation.


BREASTfeeding.  the. nine-month old in a hot bench whilst people walk bye.
      facetattooos- and excitacy with the ****** firmly plugged in.

drifting away
driftin away

I am dying

I am dying literally, I.    feel the pulse fading.
1 2. 3.  4 5. 6 7. 8



pidgeon jesus,  Muhammad ****** my ***, buddha lives in LA,

cut out my heart;
ventricles
blues
.

I have no one

I have. NO ONE.       NO ******* ONE.
BUT A SVEN in Norway;

blackened by the bite of a hand.


recluse,
no more.  forgotten. my last name is EARNest

I DONT' care anymore.  idon't care anymore. I gave up,
I moved. 50 degrees south,

I'm drunk,
I'm high. I 'm a nobody

just someone who wanted to ******* LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE


I feel the breeze

breakfast in the afternoon while dancing to a few a songs

from the radio
and the bugs skitter on saliva that sits on the porch,
she
yells.

''TOO LATE''

door slams and a picture falls from the wall and shatters into 17 pieces
leaving other fragments of wood.

I hear cars screeching outside as oil cascades onto the boardwalk.

an old lady is rubbing her thigh
and flicking her neck from the previous hour's injection.

I have yet to watch that show.

some guy wants my number but he has a fiancé and she thinks I look strange in my green overalls.

van gogh was a kind man.

I have got other errands.

my thumb Is protruding and the index still thumps sometimes
from when I sliced a good portion at work--

never compensated.

still walking on hot rocks

and still recycling newspapers.

still eating from tin cans on the dresser that I got for 3 cents in the
1930's.

have yet to read a book I've liked for some time.


still trying to make sense.

still writing.

still breathing and
pretending i'm a messiah.

still awaiting the crucifixion

this eastern european chick always sqauts next to me in an alley

at like 12:03 at night when i'm smoking a ciggarette
and it always makes me uncomfortable

but they have no familiarity with american spacial barriors or common neuroses.

and i'll say something like ''
hey''

and she'll nod and say something back in
polish but proceed to stare at her phone.

and i edge away about 2 inches
and she'll scoot ever closer.

and she doesn't find me attractive because i dress in a black poncho and wear an eyepatch with spikes on it.

then i'll flick the **** away and stomp it in the dirt and she keeps scooting closer
and closer

and closer

and closer
to something
until she
dissapears completely in the shadow that overhangs the streetway littered with bums

and fresh cut lemongrass

while wolfs howl in the rolling hills

I used to care so much about my hair, having
the perfect fade, if  it grew too much I'd freak out etc, etc.
But this quarantine has made me realize I really don't care.
it's just hair .

I'm growing it out like  Jim Morrison ,
    the end

and I sit on a porch deck
chair
with the sun bleeting on me.
buy 2
fruit with masks and the cashier coofs

lay still you *****-  
foment the beach sun.
*** like a ******* miracle,
oh
I'm crying . bake it thru.  bake the death from it.
covid,
you shill and misanthropic venture. free us now. and walk on shallow streets


like     a    drug;                focused and
self-assured

lonely, but that's because I don't like myself.
That's because I wish I had my friend
I would've loved you even if you didn't have a means to satisfy my stupid lust.
I could sit and talk to you and that's all that mattered, and now I'm stuck with myself again
I never learn

It's never about writing that one immortal poem,
because believe me I've written a few
And the feeling never lasts
It's about writing a forest that some people hopefully decide to get lost in so they can find themselves on the
other side

I feel like a sociopath
I drink water and eat a grape with cheese.
Dust is in my heart, the crying girls will have their way,
Plucking out all my remains and leaving none for the sad mice

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

I sit in a can .    I listen to a Dylan.    I preach to  a paper bag.  I reach out to an anchor and squeeze out 13  nickels.  I pray to a half-baked nun that rides upon a lawn mower.  I  **** a ***** on a grass knoll and she squeals like a god. I  affix a bill upon the altar. I snap a band on the seal. I don't try to cry. I cry in a dead -air.

4
-5 -5-5 -5 -5 -5 -5

LISTEN UP

LISTEN UP.

  Someone had a chance when there was nothing made.
now I squelch it.

Dirt upon dirt upon dirt,

a rusty spoon, arm abscessed with ******, blacked out
with the soot
of a 1000 clouds.

I cry
,

I speak to my dead cousin,
my dead friend, sitting there all alone.   painted white, white in a grave, white without a friend, without a mother,
like a ladder to the night.


   faces upon a change-  saw,

  half- in a jar,
you could be the last,

there is no more sighing.  Dylan is dead.  I saw the last,  **** "U",

I am still here.  

I still can type the letter 6

A loser is someone who wakes up to an alarm
& drives to a place they hate doing things around people they hate
for multiple hours a day
to only make a pittance and live a sub standard life after the fact.
It's better to withdraw;
I've been the loser countless times before, but you can't lose at something you don't even choose to engage in

& They made it easy
when doing nothing feels like a revolutionary act
I no longer care what happens
1,000,000 years of human evolution & survival & they have us
so afraid

I made a quesadilla
With some anchovies and ham with some eggs waffles and syrup & a glass of chocky milk
My belly is full
& my **** aches
Tomorrow I shall go out fishing in the prairie; my cat
Died and I'm tired of sitting around. It gets heavy in this heart , it gets hot in this
cage
The longer i stand the more I
suffocate

When you've finally acquired everything you wanted
and still feel a bottomless
chasm within your very soul and psyche,
it saps any motivation to want to 'better yourself'.

I could have my dream living in a mansion with a new escort every night and the best *******
and it would inevitably get old.

  The only way to achieve happiness is to give it all up.
Detach from the material world; immerse yourself in your  necessary domestic duties
and pet a cat, or any animal actually.
They have no fear of death
so consult
them

when I **** myself, it'll be with a hammer
so they can marvel
at the sheer
tenacity
and will of my death-drive


it'll take a good 30 strokes
  and you can find
the guns locked up
beside me;

if there's a will there's a way.
I love being awake
at 2:32

you use my loneliness as a weapon

you reach out only to infest

you're a vicarious ****
, you revel in my sadness,
   the taste is
sweet, and if I'm buried
into my casket you will leap

rid you of me
rid every bit of you

rid you of me
exorcise
these demons from my head

his head was the shape  of a triangle

his jaw  sat there  like  an indifferent  feline

his cheeks were the color
of plums

his ****** hair was light, but present nonetheless.

he was about 6'0,  thus above the cut-off range for ******.

The women would come in and talk to just him for minutes at time,
holding up the line,  but the customers didn't care;  they wanted to talk to him too.

& he would dance around,
and pop his Xanax in the bathroom,  and his dealer would come in and hand him some **** back when it was illegal--
and in plain view of the owners.

''Don't you see what  this ****** is doing?" I'd say
in exasperation- - but they'd shrug.

His beauty was good for business,
even when he was slurring   and   in a near-comatose state--

those eyes,
and perfectly sculpted brow,   and hair like an 80's detective   put  everyone in a   daze.

& one day he got in my face,   so I threw him over a counter,
and his elbow whipped back violently,
and he made a little  whimpering sound,
and I was promptly fired.

& I went and bought a beer
and jacked off

& I thought of those eyes, while so afraid.

and then I started
  putting in applications  for another **** job
a day later for Sears

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

I awoke to my neighbor pouring cement in a pothole in my driveway.
He gave me a ciggarette and he asked if I've been ******* all day because I woke up late.
I chuckled and said yes twice, and we talked about the guy across the street who has loud *** with a ******* and I finished my smoke and gave him an AK round I found since he has a large arsenal. Then
the other neighbor Andrew with his meaty calves and who is a 7th day Adventist started approaching.
I said I didn't want to talk about stocks and went back to bed.
Now I'm drinking coffee. Now my day is almost over.

they used to say writing poetry was a very girly and wimpy
endeavor, but it's actually quite the opposite. It's very
masculine and takes courage;
where else can a man vent and be heard without being judged for being too sensitive ?  if more men wrote poetry there would be far
less suicides.
keeping it in is a fool's errand. you will inevitably blow , and you'll be the source for another poem: cascading red down  a sepiatoned
couch
the stoic man had no chance

you think i care if they like me?





people like gorilla- donkey-
man-child infant **** beheadings and **** fetish milkshake
theatre on a sunday at 2pm also


people like that too-
doesn't mean anything.


i just like what i do, but everyone else hates it.

been the story since birth
that's why they slapped me

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've gotta get over my hyper-awareness that people are reading this.
enough with the 'stars'
and 'lights'
and 'dead airs'  '
' blue souls'.

you've gotta be **** too sometimes. maybe i'm always ****, but I need to explicitly be **** too.
this is poetry

It's not enough to be a good writer or poet anymore
You have to be a savvy business man as well; really sell yourself.
Get that Facebook account and Instagram primed with the right photos and have your Snapchat story good while posing over a balcony in Dubai,
really have your abs showing, and flex your biceps.
Have your book sitting atop the makeup canvass as you sell your product, and make sure the lighting is ideal, and make sure you post bi-weekly on YouTube and include the ad-code for 15 percent off,
Also look at the analytics to deduce your audience: Jamaican maids with blue pantsuits
Be savvy and cutthroat, and remember *** sells, but not at much as surface noise, so open your mouth and say.........,.............

he sits in his underwear with
the grey shingles closed.

his room is next to the 5 freeway
and he constantly hears
cars sliding off the ramp to
their doom
where fire trucks and ambulances pull up the remains
of children and a lady.


the water
is tap,
but sometimes bottled when he feels like it.


the air is stuffy and smells of smoke
even though he doesn't smoke, inside.

no footsteps
no shadows-

contents of the mind scattered as food boxes make do as markers,
buried


it's no time to cry-

it's no time to over think like you've
done your entire life.

it's time to act

This one's for the internet which killed my baby and laid eggs in my eyes , I think.  It laid me down and tied me with wire and stuffed my mouth, my cute mouth, my chapped lips. I got up and got water.
She laid there too, next to her skeleton. My ghost now disguised. They killed her and threw away the parts that I loved. I live in an endless loop. The film decayed. Keeps playing. They played with my heart. My sad heart.  I have no options now but to wait. I *******  wait

Some days are harder,  some don't get started
Some get sawed in half and others vanish in thin air
Sometimes I talk too much,  sometimes I listen too little
Sometimes I drive myself nuts,  sometimes I **** what's left by pretending I'm ok and making improvement.
I'm manic and
all over the place so i watch out for the road but sometimes prefer the cliff and its ideations. To whom that may concern I don't know.  I just write it down and crawl towards the light in hopeful submission

I was genuinely an evil person to my ex
I made you feel low
And devoid of all self worth

I abused you mentally and physically
Dehumanized you
Made you feel like trash
But I was ultimately projecting my own lack of self worth
And there's not much to learn here
But I
Was a ******* and I'm sorry

I hope I learn my lesson for real.
I deserve it, because I
feel it in my soul and it
   hurts
even now

I want to be with my girlfriend, but I hate not being able to be alone. ***** me up like a
vacuum, wherever I go, I follow
Want to be gone in a grey beam,
taken by something obvious. Your heaven in ribbons.
  Time to let her know

Years go by  and new birds learn to fly
I saw you the other day
in a silver dress, and painted nails
Time flies when you're alone, painful but something that you barely recollect

Shooting a can and washing a dish the TV talks to me and says go away,
Go away

I hope your dogs got fed and thanks for showing me the sugarglider,  never seen one.  Smuggled from Peru.
God look up,  child be still, someone is trying to disappear what a trick
I still laugh. It's funny
to
me.  especially now

But in space there is no time
And that's how it mostly feels especially in the early hours

Numb and floating
infinite like a ballet
You only get one chance
Don't miss
Your eclipse



;*:;

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

Was it love

Does a child love his imaginary friend.

It was real

You made me cry when i was all alone
And the knife pressed even deeper

I couldn't face the day knowing I hurt
nobody but static air
I lost all sanity then
And you just laughed, and i just turned out the light and walked towards anywhere







.

how could you be so cold to a young man,

so cold to a still growing heart?

so cold to a confused stranger,
so cold
to someone that treated you with  respect.

I just
make a sandwich in the dark,

and cut a heart into the belly,

and bleed.

I am so tired,
and the internet has killled me,

and the hellopoerrts
and instramgrams
and facesbooks

and reddit
and goggles,
tired.

what even is human anymore? am I a human, or am so program?

I wanted you,

you wanted the software,

I wanted to be a glitch in the data.

I dont float,
I betray myself, I am nothing, I was something , I am nothing, do not haunt me,

do not haunt me. I do not exist I will die alone and inadequent,
and with unfulfilled desires.
the earth keeps spinning

**** THE UNIVERSE.

**** ANY ONE WHO CAUSED THIS,

I was      too     soft for this.                too soft for this     /l,//,/,/,//,,/,/,    h,lo -=o=o-gfko[sj[gdfj[gj[fdojo[gdfjogdfoj[hj[od]jphdfgjp]df

All women are ******
Makes your interactions a million times easier;
I won't give you anything, and I have zero expectations. You're as ephemeral as the morning fog and I'm glad when
you'll eventually leave
, but for right now the dog is barking at its master at 2am
Don't ever beg ,
don't ever grieve

Poetry rarely makes its way into the public stream of consciousness, but it's good to know that it's at least timeless. Words don't age, cheesy saxaphones and traps beats do

The little man with the blue shirt
Drinks jars of fermented **** of which he purchases online for $179
Dollars

The procured **** is sourced from the bladders of Hispanic
Gypsy kawaii Core only fans models

His only love is derived
From the stenchy
Liquer
It has notes of lavender &
Hot mustard

God is dead , but the little man
With a blue shirt
     retracts his trigger & smiles
Unmolested

Confidence is key.
Overriding human instinct and behavior. I am mere muscle tissue, fat, bone, hair and water.  I am material. Carbon. As common as sand.
I will be confident.
I will say what I want.
I will do as I please. I will look at the mirror and be indifferent in my response, as though looking at pebbles on a beach.  There.  Mineral composite.
My name is Jonas,  I am Earnest,  I have no fears but dying not having lived my truth.  I am here and was and will be.

My biggest fear is being alone
Or ending up a loser
But both outcomes are predicated on people's perception of me

But perceptions change

If i had money I could wear a bathrobe to the store with a zebra cowboy hat
And the money would make me eccentric

$$$$ could buy an infant from a mother.

$$$$ could buy you a liver from a healthy farmboy in peru

$$$$$ could buy you tickets to a ******
Thats all that matters in this shitshow.
Your personality is irrelevant
They want what youve got
They dont want you

Too much pride to go around you beat the faithless
Hanging by their nails as the kaliadiscope bleeds; parasite

To know the road is to know eternity, indoors.
Faces marked by suffering, i fold out the blade
Color 2, fifty in pairs, don't hang yourself like a pale
lung

this is the most uneventful apacalypse I think we could have been subjected to,
we'll die of boredom before anything interesting happens
&
I hope future generations
many distant centuries from now, primitive yet stoic, dig up an iphone
and use it as an axe head to chop more fire wood and sleep soundly
in the cool starry night with no distraction
ever
again

I feel like Trevor in uk82
****** and full of industrial glue
Breaking windows
And slashing tires
Robbing homes and setting fires
Swazi on the head you don't give a ****
The world treats you like a boot's imprint
Alone in the cell you can't breathe
The warden cries evermore,
And blood gushes from your slashed veins and the littered head of
tyrants
Roll down a hill to hell

blah blah blah

the enlightened shrine sits atop withered disaster zones like toppled fortunes among
Hebrew scholars.

Donald trump.

a wind storm overtakes the nursery and a thousand perish like sickly flies-
2am in baltimore; the newscaster speaks
"IT'S A TOUGH ONE"

stained glasses with velvet tips, you bleed out into a cavernous emptiness;
if only
  lies made for better entertainment- instead we
die mercilessly and
unloved, and
   un inspired

jim
  And a hand
Game now 2.
"Lightening the load, the offenders"
Grey wash.
Buzzard musk.
Mucousy and white, flesh flute, patted down in squares. Little green squares full of time
⬛  juxtaposed with a moth  head and flying into cold flame

I feel like I've suffered brain-damage and it makes me feel bad.  maybe too many nights alone does it.  my vocab is bad  and my thought process is dull and stiff .  I splash water  and burn up a little.
too  think I had it all  .

I   can  still point  at  saturn

I could  write 1000  poems

and get a nobel  prize  ,

but at the end of the day

there's no closure.

i'm in this ****  hole,


it's cold.

i still idealistically believe that  the 'right person' could change things when we all know it doesn't.

I hope   i don't wake up this time.

I hope  
  everything goes away


good night

I have some deep seated manic issues   I legimitately wanted to **** myself 2 days ago, now I feel amazing
then it'll be the same
tomorrow


I'm living in this moment right now though.


love is easy when you re loved

at least in your own head

People hate nature because they see the chaos inherent
in its form,
This reminds then of the unknown and
ultimately death
They aren't in control

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

God is here
He's got a big face
There's children in the garage
This is wasting ink
Writing for a son
Nowhere to be found

Put a fist up my head
Saw 3 truths
1 about blowing smoke
2 about talking to strangers

Hopefully I can find the meaning down the road
I'm a little sick
And it's whatever
This time it's now

This is the beginning
****** off in my head again
today
it's all the same

Plastic people
Hold my hand
Light a fire so I can dance
Tonight
So uptight

And we got nothing to lose today
And we got nothing to do or say
And we got nothing to lose

Dead corpses
Line the streets
Feeding all the children and the strays
It's all so grey

Picking up pennies for my slavery
Spent it all on my pain
It's another day

And we got nothing to lose