oh baby you’re crazy

but that’s alright

baby i’m worried

and feel sick

you left for the weekend and

i”m vomiting 60 bucks  of *****

I had bought and now it's in the toilet

flushing away
60 dollars of whiskey and *** and coke and other
some food particles
but how you feel really good afterwards
after the huge mess comes out of you

the child is dead

the woman

the mother

weeps

my mother

weeps for me

and she cried

but was more empty

when her child died

Who ever thinks they

will give birth to a dead

baby?

who ever thinks  tonight is

the last night for them?

better hide

the people are strange

tonight

creeping in windows

touching themselves


I want death

death come on over

I’m waiting tired on the couch

waiting

drinking harsh whiskey

waiting

Sylvia, your head is in the oven

and forty years later I fall in love with a dead woman,

I read words of tears

from a dead woman,

and the woman I was seeing

was getting finger ****** by my long fingers.

she says there are little hairs on my back

and the shoulder blades are covered

with moles and zits

You are not dead

I wished I was dead a while ago

but the times are strange

Yesterday I was listening to silence

and thinking death

Today I see your smile

and that firm soft body

death soon disappears

Cherie in port elgin

the sundown is always peaceful there

the pink

the red skies eat away pain

I left her house at 6:48 am

to get on a bus back home

What are you doing almost one year later?

I can’t sleep tonight

I can hear the birds

Hell it’s morning already

the clouds woke up
the poet vomiting in
the kitchen
knives in the kitchen
drowning himself in
the bathtub
the clouds are up
and the poet is
biting his nails
eating raw ham
******* the mattress
I saw the broken windows
and screams from the poet
are echoing through the
town
the poet has walks at night
feeling inside the body
declining
fifty more smokes
in the poet
the clouds are sleeping
rain and walking
through the dead town
he doesn’t believe in miracles
doesn’t have a god
and if god was there
he would hate him
the poet playing with
himself and biting the
****** skin
the clouds wake up
and he cannot get up
he has mighty chest pains
and hasn’t eaten in
two days
the starving poet
the lonely poet
had a wife
but she’s underground
being eaten
by the bugs
all bones
suffering one more
day going outside
he is scared
the pills make him scared
a human helps
the cops come
blood everywhere.

Looking in the mirror
the morning is here
And my eyes look droopy
The black lines under
My eyes
Where did they come from?
Maybe cause’ I never sleep
Well i never want to sleep
Because it seems
The night and I belong
Together
But morning comes
even getting a good night rest
You are still stuck in bed
The mirror tries to scare
me with my tired face
I look ugly
Inside it’s probably uglier
I do not know

My good friend and I
we found cigarette butts
and he put them in his mouth
Pretending to smoke
He had a little fish pond
And in the winter
I would try to walk over it
Breaking the ice making my leg
Freeze and smell like dead fish
****
We threw rocks at this crazy old guys house
we always tried to start ****
we were twelve
Ten or something
and renting R rated movies
At the convenience store
While stealing 50 cent candies
and then going out causing more trouble to the world
Stressing out the world
i was never scared at that age of time
Now it seems almost everything scares me
The real world isn’t ready for me
I rather stay inside and drink the day away
Well you can come over
Only if you bring more *****
the school hated me
The teachers hated me
the people were nothing important
I rather be dead than to see these people again
It seems i just eat work sleep **** **** sleep eat **** **** work eat…
where did my youth go?
It seemed good
Many troubles
Many times being alone
I am still alone
the music plays all night
Hemingway take me to your bull fights
Thompson take me to the shooting range
drinking and more drinking
Will also occur
The music plays
and I’m still living
the days are the same

Drinking red wine beside her

in a warm house

welcoming and it’s finally calm

I feel good inside

the wine hits

and you smile with drunken love

soon it deteriorates

the wine never deteriorates

it lays still inside me

and I’m smiling with drunkeness

all over me

you wave goodbye at the bus stop

goodbye until the summer dies down

and soon we meet again

but not in love