I sat at a stoplight and my brain thought of nothing

I ate a subway sandwich as I farted In the cold and my cat drank liquid ****, i thought of nothing
I ***** a muffin and ****** 3 boyscouts and thought of nothing.
I ran a mile and picked my nose with greasy toes and thought of the state of the union. I voted.nothing. I passed away from a cold and pled guilty. **** human rights. Pigs won me over for the greasy ham. I slap it down with 3 jokers. I went talking whilst texting a joker in the day, her parents are dead and so am I.

My ******* head hurts. My eyes hurt.
My head hurts,
Headache.
My back hurts, my shoulders hurt.
My eyes hurt.
My ear is clogged.
My foot hurt

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

there's a syringe filled to the dropper with ******

and a blackened spoon on the kitchen counter.

he was in the bathroom shooting up and left this one for later
but in a daze
forgot to consider
that others would be home early.

i didn't care.

i've stepped on many ***** syringes before
and as a child
poked myself by accident
a few times as well.

i don't have hepatitis luckily
but to me
it was just an annoying prickly receptacle

full of enough intoxicant to be
lethal to any person
without a tolerance.

i just banged on the door.

''hey if i see this ****
again
i'll break your arm''.

i heard faint mumble from within
and left him to get high.

he was going to leave within the next day or two any way.

must be fun,
and millions are having fun,


why bother them?

they know what they're doing
it's just
the lack of respect i don't appreciate.

and the fact that they get to **** themselves in plain view
while
we die
oftentimes in slower subtler ways

I got a 25 cent raise.

I'm gonna buy
bubble gum

and mac and cheese

and a pellet gun to shoot geese with.


I like sunsets in Greece while it's still cold.


I sit in the apartment
and peel paper from the walls and write

GOOD over and over and over again until the whole wall is filled.


25 cents for surgery on my head.

a glass of juice,
citrusy and good

and a ***** to ride when i'm hot.

25 cents
I like death.

i am death

and i am rotting
death as i die

everyday 1000 times.

my final form

....

valiant art

Pushed aside with no mercy and my head deloused,
Scraped into a bin along a ***** subway crowded by bugs.

Eyes are misaligned and so is the soul, dreams like flight among the black dunes
What does it matter, it's just some more words for the flames
Everything been said, everythings been plundered and there is no mystique
left to wring out of this husk

your tears hurt me
and I can only watch.
I can't force something out of pity,
it needs to be real and right now it feels like obligation,
like something preconceived

I don't know what to do anymore, but you keep making the same mistakes over and over allowing yourself to feel such pain
over nobody.
dispel the myth,
there's nothing behind these curtains

And the best are about sandwiches and windows. The words do not care about me and I do not own them

I'll be rich soon  when  my Litecoin finally takes off.
been making a nice profit lately    and I'll be able to check in at the Mandalay
bay.

get myself a room   and 30 escorts
and snort some coke   and drive in a ferarri with a ****** while throwing wads of 1s at crackheads.

That's making it.


Really I should have been born in a   yurt 2000 years ago,
hunting elk with my forebears   and laughing heartily
as we sip
the honey    wine  and  dance over a   fire in the dim night  where time is meaningless
and death is only natural.


but I'll make do with my options

If you turn the **** to the right there's a password that will let you in
It is 'screwdriver25'
Did you get it? Ok good
Now look at the floor and sit down and tap your nose we will examine the
Ediface.

It takes time to be born,
It takes time to walk in circles, I'm still over
Here

naked & afraid

staring into a blank field and breaking my promise

the noise drips into my shell, waves like shallow graves

anxiety clutching me
And sweat beads

too hot
For covers too cold
For the ****

release
the pain and

Release me
Release

me
into nothing

As theyre relieved so are the patent watchers said the director.
No need for nose bleeds or salty iron. Count your pennies, Stew shine on rain
Had enough of ***** casualties and stringy viscera. Eat your own ***** and your own ***** Fish.

   An age of time

What used to be hard is now soft

& what used to hurt feels like laughter

.



If you push it in maybe it will

Work

I'm so ******* jealous

  I always tell myself I won't be
that this stuff doesn't affect me, that it's just casual intimacy,
but I can't help comparing myself to the guy she's posting stories about

she didn't post **** about me.

she's pleasant and we have a good time and she says she likes hanging out with me but I'm obviously deficient

what am I doing with a 19 year old anyway.

next time I'm gonna strangle her til she's blue and that'll be a casual Tuesday for her

the depth of depravity is now
inverted
and I sit on satan's throne.

I want out of all of this

coming in and coming out
erected and perfected;
vivisected
Suckled on yellow tongues
tainted by willows and half-lies
Balloons with hands groaning
None here are loaning out their heads to shop windows
Black and blue the only thing left is pigment hope,
and junk rope lining the dead-heirs with washed out eyes of Mexican ***** lice in licorice dunes

So the finger twists and the **** red hot squeels in absense of authority. Pluck your own seed fa**ot

I've died a thousand times
And made my bed a thousand times and attended funerals a thousand times and swam in green oceans a thousand times and juggled swords a thousand times
And paraded along silk streets a thousand times
And witnessed births a thousand times
And seen splattered remains a thousand times
And talked to ghosts a thousand times
And worn grey canvass potato bags a thousand times with Gucci slip ons in Georgia and I have ultimately learned nothing
Maybe next time

Your smile was brilliant
like a snow dust portrait in the fall

I could see you then, alive, full of something.
Life hadn't beaten you down yet..
Your smile, still vibrant,
and the pain merely implied.
You had so much more to do; I'm sorry you didn't get to see it.
But I'll take this burden from you. & you
can live with the angels

back up

a  test.

12  on the dot

as it rains

turning    into  mist.


alive no doubt

living in a home with 6 people like
  some monkey;
no privacy to ******* of
   or
to take a **** without smelling someone's own recent
evacuation.

   I want to fly out the window
and into a  coma.
I want to stick needles up my *******
like Albert Fish and
eat succulent butts.

I was born in 94, the year all my idols died.

I 'm confined to a room and am tired of seeing people. I 'm tired of the noses and faces and furrowed brows and chewed off toenails
and funky
        hair dos.

I wanna be a runaway with no grave marker; still born and as elusive as peace

I wanted to be a dancer, I became a nun.
I watch jeapordy.
I sit on a.golden ladder.
There are 33 choices.
****, or
Lucidity.
Don't be boring. Please

Something I've learned about women that never occurred to me in my years of resentment and frustration was that to be attractive to them I didn't have to do anything out of the ordinary.
I didn't need to be the most handsome, or the strongest or prettiest or smartest and most cultured and richest and most talented and sauve.
I just had to be there any second they needed me.
The second the phone buzzed, there. But not myself showing any neediness.  You don't need as a man, you give to your woman.
So that's what I did.  Gave my FULL attention.  Gave my time which is more precious than any other commodity. Devotion.  Cooked for her and showed her the town. And now she won't stop texting me and does anything I suggest. I put in the work, i didn't play hard to get. I let her have it and it was so easy afterwards.
If my teenage self knew this It'd be a different story. I kept trying to change myself when I was good enough.  Any man is good enough,  if you just make her feel important and
Give. Less of yourself,  more to her

I keep telling them that it passed away 10 years ago.
It's a hollow husk now. It doesn't know its own name, nor the names of people it meets and keeps as an acquaintance years later.
It goes to a job and lives below the poverty line and takes 2 dhits everyday to squeeze in 5 mins of pay.
It buys the same protein and milk and bread everyday and watches videos.
It sits on a noisy bed scratching its *** and looking at dust.
Females do not like it, nor do the species as a whole.
It is useless, should've been aborted slop.
The train wont quit whistling.
Dead is too easy,
There's only a note left

To plunge my knife into your sternum
Would be too much effort
You breathe because I am
indifferent
  the
Wandering soul sits idle in a bush
awaiting your tempered heart
& jovial face
The angry ones swallow whole
all the foolish ones,
     prancing about with so little care. You make it easy to hate & hate is how we
survive

To plunge my knife into your sternum
Would be too much effort
You breathe because I am
indifferent
  the
Wandering soul sits idle in a bush
awaiting your tempered heart
& jovial face
The angry ones swallow whole
all the foolish ones,
     prancing about with so little care. You make it easy to hate & hate is how we
survive

I want to write a sincere poem but maybe I've lost my way.
I keep thinking of the way it needs to resolve at the end
to make it seem more meaningful than it is,
like a clever line which ultimately
isn't that interesting nor profound,
just esoteric. It's supposed to be meaningless I guess, like
everything else.

You paint your face with shadows and protest to a benevolent spirit.
All you have is
nothing, go dance in the
flame

1 great poem for every
5 **** ones
1 good for every
3 crap ones
1 immortal for
Every
40
0
Okay ones

0
Nothing
Ones

0
  Wallpaper poems

the damage is done, the wound
is gushing with blood.
the pants are
filled
with ***** matter.

the mouth is vomiting
into a ditch at 3am. please god, tell me I matter.

please god,
who are you,
who are you,

touch me,
touch me in my ****,

touch me in my ****.

feel my *****,
feel my *******.
I want to love you. lord my savior, I *** on your face, and you drink it.
my lord
and savior.

death on a cross is like a jelly
sandwich
after dawn.

no one has to cry.

please god.
let me watch the ****** in
2002,
when I was still fragrant, when I still felt good.
when I still played stick games with my friend nick. when I still listened to slipknot's duality
and Marilyn's beautiful people.

I want to be whole.

I want to be a person without the past. the stick in the mud, the last dance at the wedding when everyone is watching.
please help me .


I don't need
a party,
but I need a crowd.

blue tin skies after dawn,
two few to know.

love is like a box of explosives,
you know what you'll get.

paintball in 2006.

where did it all go? when did I get old? when did I lose touch? when did it all start to not matter
?


pave the way forward,
we are here.

I see you,
and I want the best for us.  please, please, please. let me believe in love for once.





once;  like a nova

Nowhere poem, like a line drawn on a blank canvass - blue and bleeding,
parallel and listless, fluttering towards dawn,
crumbled up papers like the other hundred you spat out.
It's no good,
It's no good.
Zipper lips, cold and frostbitten, alone in a room with a window that won't shut
The voices yell and they tell you to jump out,
5am and nothing changes. 5am and the freaks stare whilst the the locks get locked, and the noose gets tighter
like a curfew. You know what you are

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

my neighbor gave me a pedal steel and so I learned Sleepwalking.
It's a beautiful tune and was a favorite of my grandpa's, and there's no words
just how I like it

Hissing through the wind as the leaflets make their way North
crooked hands of dispair
Know not the p r ice
Look to yourself
Flee if you must, for whatever's just. Sorry If I went too far
666 happens to be a faithful star

Jug band sister, I crane my head and walk to a river. Wash away your sins. Cry in the
***** shale breeze

Blew me away pressed
My face to the wall
Shattered my lungs with a blow and
Danced on the street
Syrupy kisses
And black
Lunges

The equals had a name and they sang hallelujah
I'll be there

Hallelujah I'll be there.
.
..

Wrinkled bags and gelatinous
comfort

How was it then

How was it when gods sang to

swine?

Feel like I'm floating. People talk but I don't really hear. Bought a cat cause I'm lonely but now I despise it because it needs.

Windows have frost, maybe vitamin deficient. Jack it to memories of a faceless  beauty on a night that cared so long ago.

But now I'm haunted. I'll see it soon. Just wish I could be alone; truly, truly, truly alone.  Where no light shines but withers

I remember ******* on her massive jugs and feeling her body's undulation as the fingers went deeper.
I licked up every last drop of her, and the blue light cascaded down on our bare bodies
After 2 hours I fell back into the recliner and made my self an
OJ
She was like a dream in heat, and I had no where to be. We both sat in silence in the cool heat and the seconds ticked by like melting ice in October

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

I'm not a romantic poet and it kind of bums me out.
  no chick would ever
read my stuff and fantasize about me;
  I don't even have a gnarled hideous face so as to be poetic.
I'm just whatever, with no real vices, no alcoholism, drug abuse,
  or abuse otherwise.
     I am a little ****** up,  but so is everyone. that's a prerequisite to living.
  
    and living is getting old

bukowski's greatest accomplishment is that his books are the most frequently stolen from book stores;
     No one would bother stealing Moby ****. live on you old ****

made some burgers , **** that was delicious

**** daniel
daaammmnn

damnn Daniel,back at it again with
the kicks
I see??/

daaaaamn

I wish I had some coleslaw and a coke--   I have green juice and  lays

A breath at 3:18.
Pull the cover and think of coyotes in the canyon.
rainbow car crash, Nova
Caress, Amsterdam somersault,
October induction.
willows breeze.
Be calm. Be present. be resolved

It's gonna be one of those nights, I feel it in my stomach, I feel the self pity and loathing. I don't care if it makes me look like a *****, I feel it and it's painful.
I'll probably cry a bit too and listen to sad songs. I have my big bottle of Jack just for this occasion. I'll get through it, but it never gets easier. Just let the pain envelop you
Let yourself feel, because you know you've been hurting for a while now and were just looking for a little
Reprieve
now's that time

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

pitched
by pigs and cold coffee.

**** it dry,
my coffee is black
and it needs spice.

fly at night, too many crowds and too many lines. explosions in soft places; roll around a tight hall--- 2 green lights go woo


I love good
juice,
praying to a fine specimen called tomorrow .  open your
*******
eyes

i'll give my 2 cents on the riots later,
when people are willing to listen
right now it's about yelling into the abyss
and painting everything black

I scream for you
LOVE IS REAL

I run my fingers against your ivory thighs. I sigh. I whistle a tune and make breakfast, the crows howl why.

2 after 10, the den is made but no body barks.  What goes on.  I slide away,  I ask how.
I touch your lips and saddle your chest.  I pick up your hair and make a noose of my self. I wither in the light as your beauty prances. I can't believe it.  I speak
"God is willing"
God is real so long as the universe is a perfect mistake.  I touch your brow, I kiss your tears, I make love. Lay another bridge, the water is running.  So what if the rivers run dry when the rain lets me love. I drink from crystal coves. The dirt settles over me and I count to tomorrow. What then

blood stained and cold, your hand was laid out grasping at imaginary roses.
the room was wet, and there was chilly air, and the footprints were plain as day.
tv blared in the other room, a man talking over a studio audience.
it was a very ordinary day
,
clouds and a shrubs in the back, with a barking dog and chimney smoke, and a laughing neighbor and a kid with a backpack. A red car a white door, and muddy sneakers. too ordinary for something like this. Why is it always so ordinary. why is it like a dream

the outside
world
burns as i sip my juice

and crack my knuckles in the

silent air.

i'm not selling
nothing,

not 'speaking' to anyone,

nor walking in other people's shoes,


just doing what i do
because i like to suffer,

and the 'hustle' is for people who want to get somewhere,
to be
wanted to
be adored,

to be fed
grapes in bed
while being stroked
by hairless men.

i'm happy
right here,
and
y
ou can find me over there,



WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY


over there


where not even a mouse skitters

Capitalized
Everything gets capitalized
Even the things
Which don't matter

Life

my money

my watch
my house
my car

my phone

my wallet
my toothbrush my couch my lemons my green grass
my plastic
tub

my plastic hair
my plastic teeth

my blue pool

my black
eyes

my red heart
my green soul

my exoskeleton . my ectomorphic mass.
my balloon filled gut

my bleeding
tongue

my brown shoes . my yellow banana. my $1,000 child slave my
$10,000 hitman

my $1,000,000 white Bengal tiger

my $0.02

conscience

my $0.02 pack of gum