People talking about nothing
In a room of incoherent thinking.
Some money beggars,
Some are poor animals.
They only think about
Want and pleasing.

Nothing will get done.
A man watches the woman
Put some blush on
Another woman is having
Her period.
She thinks of getting pills
To stop her periods
Because the cramps make
Her a suicide case.

You know what the guys are thinking.
Still little gets done
In a room full of these people
Filled with nothing

she thought she knew her ways

and a wild ***** came out of

her mouth and attacked me

and soon good days had flashed in her

and she sat there eating wild strawberries that were bleeding

on her tongue

a red cold sweet tongue touches my tongue

you don’t watch my  eyes wide

my eyes go the way of Sartre

and you tell me I finally

look crazy.

I feel doom

rising

we all go to the circus

to watch the clowns die

to see the elephants stripped

I feel cold

we all die out like the sad clowns we were

A bowl of soup that
never goes old and my feet  
are cold sweating
and stink and eat the dead skin…
I want this and that
it will never come out perfect almost like writing a poem
that fits the  state of perfection and
when it’s done that perfection dies out.
I paint a ugly dog with a smile
when music is too loud
when fingers tremble
you know time is almost done
little  drops of air come out of you
little crystal tears do not come
out of you no more

This little kid mostly grew with his mother, at school he rarely got along with the other kids, fought a black kid on the first day of school… well many of his school days were fights and visits to the principal’s office.

This little kid thought he knew the world already, fighting with teachers because he liked seeing anger and destruction from humans. This  little **** would have to  stand against the wall at recess for all those little troubles he caused, He felt lost most days but was always built with happiness, with some fear hiding inside.

He was a emotional **** that cried always the wrongs hours of day, and when the mother got married to a new daddy, the kid and daddy fought always, the daddy screamed, didn’t know what to do.

The little kid had a fight with a girl, the kid pushed the girl down, the daddy got mad and grabbed him and yelled. “YOU NEVER  HIT A GIRL, YOU UNDERSTAND THAT.” This little kid thought he was tough, jumped off high things and til this day has never broken a bone. Other little kids from school didn’t invite him to play because the parents didn’t like him around their own little *****. Little kid wasn’t lonely and he found another kid from his neighborhood to play with, both mostly filled with the same mindset. They both caused little destruction in their city, caused fights and fought each other. He had asthma but still did things that made him lose air and felt like dying. He wrote little notes in books, wrote a letter to god asking how his dead family members were doing, the only kid in the family.

The kid grew more into something else, he stole little things and  killed little things with his foot. the kids at school grew more into him and started some how accepting him. He still was a little **** but they all laughed and thought he was funny. still beating the teachers up and still visiting the principal’s office accepting his letter for suspension,  He probably had the most suspensions at school.

do you know your weak eyes always look stronger
than the  bones that try to **** you.
the people you think that try to **** you
have nothing to afford,
Your weak eyes binge,
I take a photograph and
your weak bones show.
but I’ll rip it up
because that photograph doesn’t show
your true bones.
I don’t need to use photographs
or words to make you look good.

In a large cafe
the fat lady with greasy hair
eats her Chinese.

and many
around
preach in their little crowd

they think they know
it all
no one knows anything anymore

in this large cafe
people eat
but just stare at nothing

the large window
shows a snow storm
the wind blasts bullets of snow

the trees are dead
some of the people
look dead

they are mostly pale
and silent
and alone

just like the dead
themselves but they
don’t scratch the fat pimples

on their
back
like I do