when I was older


I crammed it in gently . I sat back and yawned . I fled thru the forest in a blaze . I bellowed out in agony. I flipped over the bench. I spat the puke. I itched the back. I sprayed the cologne. I beat the poet. I beat the fool. I said ''ONLY THE GIANT IS ALLOWED''. I danced incoherently in the pool sun. I baked your cake. I ''died young''. I FINGERED THE JAM. I sped out of control
I didn't care.


I wanted purpose to be an accident

"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

She says I "can't change"

The stuff she wants me to fix is superficial like buying flowers and spending more money on dates.

If that's her measure of love whilst disregarding all the ways I helped her and loved her unconditionally what the **** am I hanging on for?

It's just a shallow justification for her *******, considering she already 'moved on' with another guy a week after our break up

when it's over it's over
and it dies
  months before you even knew it.
women are nature's best actors

the best ones happen in the afternoon whilst you sit and slather eggs on your
pajamas

the best
ones happen whilst the canary alarm goes cuckoo and the mother *****
in her drawers
and picks on your scalp scab

the best ones
happen whilst
everyone has already moved on and you're contemplating just setting
a
fire

there's nothing worse than a forced poem.


monkey
****.

****
.

yams
.

ok
ok
ok

you see?


now i'm trying

It doesn't matter how many poems you write,
and how amazing they are,
ultimately it's all about context--

who you were, and what you represented in that generation.

were you ugly,
were you fat,
were you poor,
were you rich?

did you eat bacon?

did you brush your teeth?

did you smile at children?

did you watch cartoons?


did you flick your testicles 6 times a day like the dr
reccomened?

were there vitamins?

did your lines read like an old Windows XP?

did your lines cause people to spontaneously combust?

do old people enjoy your work?

do mothers hate you?

do people look away in horror?

do you like any of this?

or was
it all just a waste of time

and something to
do because the sun burns your skin

and the beaches close after 5am

i peel off a piece of paper that's stuck to the padding and which is green and lightly
folded at the end
and has scribbles from a child that happened to draw
a *******

and a ''I LOVE BURT'' heartagram.

and a chipmunk sneezes, but the libraian keeps typing on her phone,

and the guy in the corner with black strands of hair which peek out like a sad
mouse scratches his chin

and the follicles litter the desk.

underneath the floorboards
lurks the janitor who keeps his surveillance on 24/7 -
especially in the boysroom and does
seedy things
but he's been there 26 years and isn't really questioned.

and in the gymnasiam
a pizza party fundraiser with the amputees from hungaria dance and laugh and sip wine and ****** eachother's belly buttons.

one lady says
''yeah''
and another says

''yes''

and edward
says

''yes'' too

and the cars come by and pick them up for their dinner later on--
with the mashed potatoes and stuff and corn.

i kept going 12 years

and only ever cried twice.

a wetwilly is an adolescent's way of telling you they hate the sun

and that god
will strike you down when you disgrace your mother in the alley as the abortion is performed
on a gurgling fetus that looks remarkably like your dead soul in

an afternoon afterglow

2 candles here and a child's liver
A glass of glue and dry *****. Grindr bears saying hi now and you better tell them no I'm watching TV with my cancelled subscription and that's not good enougj. And do people even still read poetry besides edgy girls?
Will I still be unhappy after I've vomited 12567 times?  
A d will I still clutch the hand that insists on gagging me a d suffocating me whilst I count clouds?
I will still be dead and rotting in a dirt mound and so will you, but you pretend you won't. Instead we insist on occupying ourselves with mindless consumerism and shallow entertainment until we can't think anymore. I'm part of the problem, im distracting from what should be the goal, to shake you violently into convulsion until the spirit fills you and spits you into the abyss where there
are no more habits or fears. Just a state of being. Like clay half molded,
Neither happy nor Content, just clay. just.        clay

if you really want to **** with people and make a bold
artistic statement

be an artist that  doesn't take ****.  

i went thru the limp-wristed flowery hipster phase  -- with  yellow button ups from goodwill
and  green shoes.

I was prey


now  I say prayers

Thank you Lord I can be homeless in the USA
I can sleep on park benches in Malibu
And ******* in public parks
Thank you God
For the EBT and hospitality
Free food and good weather
Cali is paradise
I can rot in the sunset and watch the hordes commute to their dead end job
I can watch the world crumble
As I eat a big Mac
I am truly
Privileged
Thank you for the clean water and good *****
My ***** is here now
Life is fine, if you live it
& If you stop thinking
about it

Everything will be taken away,
Everything you loved a hollow shell, everything that made you feel whole a blank smear, everything that loved you , a black smudge,
Your heart in a drawer
Locked away,
Your brain behind glass,
Your soul in a cloud, your
Face in a pool,
Your mouth on a jury,
Your friend in a cell,
Your child on an auction, your faith in a bag of money,
Your dreams in a funeral.

You will still be here, breathing, but not necessarily alive

Want to scream cry
Cannot love you because you are flesh
Cold to the bone
You are neurons and fibrous twitch muscles
There's not much there
Just some blood and color
I love you
But that means I live with delusion
I love you but that means
I can't see straight
I fold up my clothes
And walk to the garden

There's a strung up bird singing to me
To love is
To never have answers, suspended in uncertainty
& I'm tired of uncertainty

I rub myself but really have to **** and the bathroom
is a good 6 seconds away.

the ham sandwich is floating somewhere

as I wash it down with milk and honey from store bought EBT deciphle handouts in raining cartoon imagination
cinema.


have no more friends since the last one I killed gurgled and told his mom.

had to **** her too-

she's sitting in a toaster oven--
at least her toes,

such pretty toes.

and such pretty eyes.

well.... they're....


nevermind.

nevermind I didn't tell you nuthin.


anyway the cool dude with the afro at work gave me like 4 dollars in tips so that was nice and he said i'm cool and that we should get doritos sometime and **** eachoteher's testicles just for the exchange of body heat and ****** fluid for extra calories which is good for health.

I declined but he's cool.


and then it's morning and you're staring into a mirror, and father time is crying in a corner as you talk to yourself and pity
your life and your dreams and your haphazard plans and commitments and lovers
and friends and obstacles and condolences
and prayers
and meaning and existence,,


and you become whole as the madness settles somewhere in your amgydala
and kisses away the fear


all of it for good
all of it for good

all of it for nothing

i strangled the *****

with a pair of ***** undwereear


then proceeded
to stuff a sock up her ****.


her eyes were forced open

and her *******
was filled with celery.


then i lit the fire
and the place
erupted
into an inferno
with smoke
dancing
miles
away like a ***** toad.


and upon them examining
the ashes,

they found
3 split
hairs

and fourtneen
canine teeth.


there was no sign of struggle,

but it didn't matter
because jeaporady was on
and I knew
ALL the answers that night

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

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

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 ****

don't give
no *****
when the ceiling

;
is falling
on top of me.


give no *****
when my lungs
fill with tar.


''have a balogne sandwich.''

''yes. mustard too''
I reply.

but then
why do I always get the crust?

I was in love with a feeling.
It was intoxicating and removed me from the state of despair and suffering I was entrenched in. It was relief, it was distraction, and now I'm back where I started.
I'm a little wiser but so what.
I'm a little older too, and I'm running out of time..
I can't keep making the same mistakes

I'm such a *****

my love is just a fake

it's not even noteworthy
nothing

a fluke
a flunk

a ******* evaporating **** stain cloud

but her
eyes
haunt me.

and I hate that.

I hate that it has seeped into my soul. I was too strong for love.
too strong
for emotion.

too strong for vulnerbilty.

but she wants
to flaunt herself naked to the world. and flaunt her love interest, and flaunt how great
her life is
all the while she cries
when I call her out.

I love when they cry.


I love when you ******* cry, knowing that you've been wronged.

you've FUCKIGN WRONGED ME

I loved you, I don't even believe in it;
it's an illusion, a chemical imbalance,
but you've affected me,

you've made me believe.

how dare you.

I don't want to reach the sky,
I want to feel you,

I want to touch your neck,
and wipe your tears,

you wear the rock in the withered
dune,
you were the floating

island,

I am the abyss. the dead, the searing, the withered, the hopeless, the blackened.
I loved you.

I loved you Amy.

I was made whole, I felt human, you wante the admiration, but the
dirt is only so deep.
Im just grateful,
that I have air.


I have great skies, and the blue air,

nothing to hold me back, but the sea. god may not be real, but the universe smiles nonetheless.

I've been hurt,
so many times that it doesn't;t matter. maybe there's truth to the silence, and the gray graves.

you were
a part of me,
and the part of me now blooms. I love you,
love to be told by no one.

dead, dead, dead, dead ,dead ,dead ,dead

eye less,
just like heaven , my hippie love, my uncertain love, my old love, my love too good for the '*****', my love which sleeps in sand, my love now buried,
I promise to be myself.

I will be myself, and so much more. love love love love love, so much more,

the end is just a comma,

, ,
,
,
,  
* Amy


Amy

Sitting dead with a headache I read 5 pages of a biography then put it down to rest my demented tik tok addled brain

I scroll through pics of creatures barely human, frothing and I then I revert to a fetal position;
Whilst sitting i receive a call from a stranger I knew 15 years ago and say happy birthday.
My day kinda drifts after this into a damp bag and I pretend to be someone special and good when my heart stops counting in bursts of 10
And 11 and the dawn swirls into nothing

It's 5:32 and I'm awake
as I hear my neighbor stepping into his truck to go lay gravel

I've been touching myself and reminiscing
I've been hungry for 2 hours but my brother is sleeping on the couch and I don't wanna disturb him making a tuna melt

My situationship
Is nearing its end.  She's not in the mood anymore, so they say; 'not feeling well'
Perfectly ambiguous
I'm not feeling well yet I still comfort you when you threaten suicide on a near weekly basis

I'm looking out the window now and I see trees
I see nowhereland and faint murmuring, the screams of my future vessel
Saying get out

I must get out
and find a new way
Somewhere towards life

woke up late again

suffering somewhere close to you.


breezy and cool yet still wear these ***** sleeves.

cars and their occupants are angrier than ever-

everyone, including children
and animals

and old ladies at the store selling chocolate

are all angrier
than I remember.


could it be me?   but I've long since given up
hating
things because they exist

The tree sits in place forever and never gets to leave

When the saw Mill takes its lover
The shadow falls like heavy linen draped over a small child

It doesn't ask for much,
  just to be left alone in the summer rain so it can remember all
the things it never got
to do

All goodbyes take time,

swinging
into a doorway,
the critter is unmaimed.
I miss
    my mother

You're only better than me in the sense that you can talk a better game

And only in the sense that you can spread your cheeks wide.
I see through you

Your philanthropy is narcissism in disguise.
You **** in a bush just like rest. I'm taking it back.

You are nothing and Meant nothing.
I am the same mote of star dust as you. Crumbs of death, but keep playing your game.
I'll be here when you've finally seen the glass in its perfect place, cracked

dimly lit room                                 ;  I hear a cloud pass by;           tip toe
down the planks,  drip.


Stirring in some salt -         3 hours on simmer, touching  a blank canvas,
seeing through a haze after the fog
has rolled away.

You ask '' for whom?''      you're enshrouded by a black husk, contorted like a cashier face.

plugged into a jet-stream, forward moving, forward thinking,
backward  living, one of a billion concurrent movies projecting  an old worn out film.

I walk around a while.


I go walking in the woods and crunch the leaves. Cars pass by and I walk past.  A broken-shed, with broken windows, but no life.

no liveliness in this walk. No chirping, or buzzing,  just some hammering in the distance.

I sit down and pick up a stone. A crystal.   It gives me a faint-energy.   I  rub off the moss,
  and I toss it into the
mist .  Nothing in my head. I  don't want to be here anymore

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

I need time away
, I need seconds to breathe,  I need crumbs to which I can count my scraps. I need poison to drink wine,
I need to feel your tight holes as I relax in my studio.
When I feel music,  I see trees.  I cut Down mountains because the babies keep crying.
If you get pregnant, my lips will turn tangerine. I have no fathers left,  just tears of pride. Seconds don't count now,  I'm all
ash

,;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;,,,,,,,,,,,,,,;,,,­,,,,,,,,,,,;,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,;,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,;,;,;,,,;,,;,;;,;,;,­,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,;;,,;,;;,;,,,;,;,,;,;,;;,;,;,;\;,\,,,\­,\\
,.
,
.,
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.,
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,
,..............



W

A

T

ER

/.....................................................

Avante garde in the sense that meaning is an accident
If I shot myself now
I could only wonder if you ever truly loved me
Or if it was conditional like everything else,,;

standing over a bridge


as the change
plops into the water

and the hobo

makes his wish.


the little girl

is chatting

whilst her icecream
drips to the cement.


seagulls

squeel
for crumbs
that the beach people leave behind.


hamburger
aroma
spills into the vicinity.

blue skies
are magnified

by cloud mirrors.


a forearm is tensed

and a grip squeezed

and everything
is put into is proper
place

,

and everyone
smiles heartily

and everyone takes
in 3 breaths


while
death
sighs

and goes for a quick swim
--

the guy sits
by        the window       as a car  drives by   and the rain pours gently
on the  street.

he says

'' I'm tired of waiting here'

and then promptly
pats his own shoulder.

the light  dimly  blinks  ,  and fly buzzes in the corner;
mildew collects under the sink faucet,
then in
walks the  nurse.


''I HAVE YOUR PILLS ready MR. DOVER''

''why thank you m'lady''.

mr.dover swallows the pills,
black and shiny.


''ahhhhh  thank you m'lady,  just what I needed''.

The nurses' face remains pulled tight and she nods and walks back out into the lobby where she then interacts with another patient
morbidly obese and frothing,
then the door closes and mr. dover is alone.


''hmmmm,,  what shall I do now?''

Mr. dover looks around and notices a magazine with a CUTE ******* the front. Asian, of about 14 years old, or maybe older; they all look young.

'''AHHHH yesss.''


He then tugs on his 12 inch ***** for some time,

and itches his *****.   the light flickers dimly as usual,
and truck passes by.   A scream is heard in the distance,  and mr.dover times his ******* accordingly;

then without warning,
the nurse reappaears.


''MR. DOVER. I HAVE SALISBURY STEAK FOR YOU?  WITH GRAVY I PRESUME?''

'uhhh yes mam,  yes mam'

She drops the steak directly on his crotch and pours the hot gravy on his belly where it pools into his naval.

''My god! woman! directly into my naval?!! why that hurts!!! OWWWW!!''

''I'M SORRY MR. DOVER.  I APOLOGIZE! I APOLOGIZE!''

the nurse then pulls out a luger
from her back pocket and loads it with a round.  Mr.dover and the nurse maintain eye-contact for about 20 seconds
, before she pulls the trigger and her brain matter is projected onto a market board behind her.

She falls to the floor and a blood pool forms and she convulses violently before all movement ceases within a manner of seconds.


mr.dover, with his gaze fixed at the body is unperturbed,
and calmly spoons a bit of salisbursy steak into his mouth.

He collects some of the gravy and mixes it with the steak and eats it some more.

After he is done, he washes his plate and pats the nurse on the shoulder.

''you had such lovely eyes,
too bad you settled for this ****.   But it was all you could do?''

The door opens,
  and Dover steps out,
then eventually finds himself in the parking garage.  He gets in his green Toyota
and drives off whilst loudly belching from the Salisbury
steak and gravy as the
rain patters     on the   window.

packing a bag     in the dead air


few in the bin
and the oven
on half turn.


smith playing angeles-

have yet to call the maid.


stapled up from yesterdays attempt.


broke n   glass and three ***** of yarn   --


buried the dove
yesterday    as  I shed a tear for her

What was once green is yellow
& The pockets are lined with bent cigarette stems

I saw a little girl painting on a sidewalk.
I went down to the bench
& Wondered what
It felt like to be alone again

Today was just practice

I nurse the distant
past,

as it sits upon my lap and the

eternal hemisphere echoes in my chamber.

upon the light,
it delights at the fright as i fight
with great might to stray
from the plight
of your unsightly
kite.


heaven is near.

and hell is closer.

pull the plug beneath the carpet
and sip the glass
with the eyes of fortune
cast.

at last,

your feces taste of bitter misery
and oranges

I hate writing on my phone.
By the time the thought has arrived I'm
editing a misspelled work or autocorrect has squandered the spirit

If I had a reason
To write, then I'd write,
But this manner of scribe is inefficient

and the ape who receives my poems uses them for tissue after an especially horrendous
evacuation

If I was paid to do this
I'd be poor, just like now, but
at least I could say I'm a poet

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

Keep dreaming of death
and dismemberment

The death does nt phase me.The clean up, annoying

If it goes on like this
what will the neighbors say

Awkwwrd thoughts

😋🌭😂🌭🌭🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕😜😝😝😝🙁
Opulant like a library
Tucked away in a Dusty cellar
Your noose hangs low
Your cheeks are flushed
Kiss the flame

stop getting in a writer's way
the more you chastise him and belittle his work and tear up his papers and smash
his keys and pour petrol on him
as hes typing
  and poison his coffee
and put rat poison in his smokes (more at least) and stomp on his head  in the morning as he rubs dust from his eye , you'll only encourage him to write more
and next time you'll be in it and it will be the part
  of the
glory hole servant in a run-down truck stop
in Baton Rouge

Serpent eyes & mediocre
powder coffee
It's too early right now; I woke up for nothing, 10
is for the ground squirrels & paper chasers and office freaks

Back to the drawing board;
I saw a white light
& A kid attempting to write something true. The more you try the
More you lie to yourself.
And the more you care the less the muse wants you back.
It's good to give up

have not slept  
this is how Dali did it,
this is how he painted
his elephants on stilts and melting strawberries in blue bowls.
  this is how Picasso rolled a ball of dirt into a woman,
and how
michelangelo
   gave himself to the lord.
   this is how a child
  eats from the box
of Kraft
  and the    girl cries herself to sleep for what she can't have and nothing changes.
  this is how it goes,
  this is how it always was and always will be.   the past whispers to the  
     thorn like it cares. and the  man stands tall among demons.  now go to bed and
dream

It's interesting writing poetry  in  a content and non-neurotic state.
I just feel so good,

and maybe it's not profound,  nor even reads as poetry,

But I just had to document this moment


so I remember that things sometimes do

get better.

it's only been hours
and she's posting her new love,

she's posting pictures of her 'boo',
what the ****
is Wrong with her?

I sit in the dark
and smoke cigarettes and drink and pop xannies after months of sobriety,

I bleed in the dark,
I listen to sad music.
I try to ignore it,   but I'm too weak for it. 1000 years ago she would have been DEAD,

but today you tolerate it,

I don't want happiness for her, if it's only to spite me.

I drive around,
and walk around shirtless,   and size up every stranger. I'm broken a cliche,
a cliche of the tough guy man, but I write poetry and write music like a ******.

my life is ****,
and there will be other girls, but I'm hurt so I express it. you really ******* hurt me and I can't keep fighting this.

I haven't cried so much in my life, why do you do this.


I plant
a strawberry in the yard,
I buy a coke and make some rice. I don't care about myself,
I just float on like everyone else.

nothing makes sense.  she's happy and getting ****** by someone else, I sit here cold;
it doesn't make sense.

I will not be a goof.

I walk on,
walk the hill. I pet my dog,   I plant a new rose.  I count the stars,

I walk on.

walk on, walk on, walk on, walk on,  you will  get something better if you
dont try

he was standing in the shadows wearing a skirt with a black bag over his head. in the other corner of the room was a mouse ******* the blood from a frog and eating a cornflake. Grandma then walks in.

''SO I HEAR YOU HAVE THE SPECIAL?

WHAT WHAT IS IT?"

'not today madam,
not today''

''WELL *** YOUR ****
******''

and grandma walks away
and sits on a beehive where her ****** is consumed by fire ants
and detritus
material.

James
rides on a floating peach into the sunset and the moon kind of smiles
upwardly
to him,
but in a condescending manner like how the school nurse would treat you upon
showing her
your gouged eyes.


LAUGHING
LAUHGING

TRA LA LA LA

TRA LA LA LA


vladimir putin is ****
with his
beer gut,

Trump --

well I'm just throwing that in to be 'CURRENT'--

hillary is in a bush

more ''CURRENT STUFF''

to be 'hip'

and 'with it Y'ALL''



in my room tugging on a ****
watching home movies
from '92
still breathing

but not really sure if I'll make it.


better days are ahead

blank for 3 good lines



I went looking for fires in the mildew air In January like leaflets after a holocast
The first to go is the mosquito. I caught you cheatin,
Hanging in the closet are your pearls, hanging in the yard are your swine.
I don't care to know you

Birth day
Ordered a pizza
Sat in a bath
Walked to a rocky hill
Spoke to my siblings and parent
And am now watching a show
Gonna lay down
& Get drunk
Then wake up tomorrow the same but
Older