Don’t you hate it when you sleep for eight hours

and still can’t get out of bed.

still tired and wanting to sink in that bed.

yet others live off two or three hours of sleep

and feel fine the next day.

In the factory I was working beside

a guy who said he had a great sleep yet

couldn’t stop passing out on the line.

he told me years ago he almost died right here

from OD’ing on opiates.

Now he was dying right in front of me from tiredness.

I had two hours of sleep.

felt alright.

Soon got a headache, and the black under my eyes was still there

but I was feeling alright.

The ***** man is here to see you,
his eyes make you stumble, and
it makes you glow red.
laughing, what’s the matter?
The ***** man is back again,
he wants you so bad.
Your life is miserable already,
why not give him a hand.

singing
old songs in the
room alone
no one is home
and you do know
some like to roam
naked
in
the house
when
it's only
them
and the closed
doors.
Weird stuff
happens
and It happens
day by day
we will see it
well if they like to show it on the streets
than we'll see it
but some like to hide it
and they act as something else
behind closed doors.

Come dazed in deception,
making idols of perfection,
****** crazed in inception.
Faded away into morality,
****** into a fixed reality,
doomed? not quite.

Her eyes washed away,
flowing away with her wings,
a slump attitude, lying naked with her.
florescent grumpy woman.

I couldn’t wish for a good girl,
a man with beauty, who is so wise.
Locks of hair make the men
blues.

Bash my Morocco joker card,
fold my ace card, make myself
lose my thousand dollar sweat.
Soon I’ll shave my Beethoven beard,
and bleed Mozart all over my long
face, coughing up some Chopin,
falling down hitting off that dazed
feeling that started this mess.

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

She never wore dresses
She never wore short shorts
I kissed her viciously on those dry lips and she complains of the pain but she can’t stop kissing me
Someone outside yells I need a smoke
I need one too

There’s this old piano from my great grandparents in my parents living room.
Half the keys don’t work
And it’s out of tune.
Doesn’t mean i don’t play it
But I’m no Chopin
And I have never learned how to play the piano
But whatever I play
It is always pleasant to my ears.

the pork is hot
with hell spices burning the tongue
I live with a country guy who loves his beer
but it feels I live with myself
well I am always on my own
the old love doesn’t want to see me
and I care too much

Plastic covered sheets in a old home and the husband wants to burn it down
Weak arms in me today with another glass of water filling me up along with white dry bread and meat and cheese
I’ve be eating meat and cheese sandwiches all week with some beer on the side.
Always Budweiser
Why Budweiser?

Crystal angels on the dinner table in the old folk’s home.
They think the angels will save them
I dream of a tiger trying to bite my hand off and driving fast and ******* the number 8 girl.

Beer always goes fast
and the **** breaks are long
eleven dollars for a six pack
the bus is horrendous
and sometimes the people bother me.
Everyone likes to talk these days it seems,
where did the quiet go?

Where did the first one go? She left like that
It was nothing good she has feelings of gold and I sink down below the stinking *******.

firing the bullets at the sea
Is worse than the people who lock their doors in the bathroom even though no one’s home.

I’ll write some poem at night when the sun is coming soon
People are sleeping
And I drink
I smoke
I write you dumb poems not even poems.
my poems- I listen to the music
- Being kind in rooms and beating myself- it happens.

Some while waiting for the bus have a tallboy hidden in their chest jacket pocket and sometimes they pull it out and take a big sip- they drink some more before the bus comes.

The bus comes
The people go
It’s freezing and raining outside
It’s spitting
The air smells fresh
some will finally accept happiness tonight.
Not me.

In the cab
The man with the harsh accent
Never shuts up
The man who doesn’t care about your life has to give it all at the store counter because his boss is right there and it’ll feel good to try to get that promotion
but the boss’s son gets it anyway
Trying to hard to get things you’ll never get
I’m wearing **** and on the bus
I feel like **** and I don’t want a job
I don’t want anything
I’ll be waiting
Sitting on a bench in the park watching the crazy homeless
Fight each other

While waiting, tired and sore, my eyes tremble in
awareness. Trying to wake up in a notorious dream.
Bronze statues of gay senators, tales of despair, and
maniacs. I think of Ginsberg and his reach to free
speech, to tell all the fakers to smoke a dinosaur,
to see the real world. I think of my sister, deceased,
rotting down below, people praying to their unreal God.

I dream of living in a narrow world, where the creeps judge
the freaks, and prey on the high school cheerleaders.

3 lights, 2 dead, 1 burning out.

I sit in my square bedroom,
bay side blue walls. My heroes are dead,
my only brother dead, paintings from my faded out great-grandmother hanging on the wall.
Cd’s of suicidal music,
stolen books from school,
MAD magazines, no not that kind of madness you schmuck!
Books filled with my ***** word poetry,
two alarm clocks, one for noise, and the other
for amusement. I sink, getting more tired, sinking in my box bed.
What will I dream tonight?
Sleep.
I wake up with Shakespeare written on my lips.



2009

Myths and legends,
That’s what you’ll get in your dreams today.
Sleep on your broken glass floor,
scream! Scream!
Look at all the fake faces on the floor,
designed by your deep-tempted blood.

Slip onto the corner of 5th,
come lay on the grass from our divine god,
come drink the coffee of ethics,
let us peel your LSD skin,
***** the dishearten world,
look into our dispirit world,
do you belong? .

Go sleep with the drunks,
let them play with you,
lets relive all the hipster days,
when liquor was quicker,
gave us that heterogeneous slur in the chops.
We can smoke all the hale cigarettes
on this earth, but that’s just a myth.

London ON has it’s crazies,
the one, well… Well he was a good guy.
I was drunk and sad and waiting for the bus.
The old crazy comes out of the corner
like some ****** greaser.
He mumbles everything and looks sad as well.

We both got on the bus, and we talk, no…
Mostly he talks (mumbles),
and he shows me his buss pass.
It is from 1986, and for reasons unknown,
has not gotten a new one.

I don’t know how it still has its use,
and I don’t know why, it feels, they
always come and talk to me.
they just can’t leave me alone.

but again he was a good guy,
a wise old ****,
We both got off the same stop,
I give him three bucks for a drink,
and head off to the bar.

the bar was empty and so was I
and getting filled up on coke and wh
isky.

I watch her sitting on the couch,
and she’s trying hard not to cry.
No baby by her side cause' the baby is upstairs.
maybe I wanna’ be upstairs too.

I watch her pop a few pills, two more in the afternoon,
maybe two more to fall asleep.
She never sleeps, but
she got better a few years after
when the baby turned four.

she lights her favorite candle and then pulls her cigarette from her lips and lights it from the candle

she goes to the kitchen and starts cutting the fresh mango and sees some blueberries and grabs a handful throws them in her mouth and chews

she is always talking and sometimes when I talk she talks over me to talk for me

after the fruit and how I wonder what it tasted like mixed with cigarette smoke she kissed her lips to me and says let’s go for a walk

we go out with the growing back trees beside us and no cold wind

she isn’t talking

she is looking                  

she wants to go to the gym and I tell her for the hundredth time I don’t do the gym  

observing the life of nature

there is peace in the wombs of the road

as always she is hungry and we go buy

a chicken shawarma

outside with her smile and we see Bobby the hunk

with his Wanda who looks like a lion


she wants the park and I want a bed

I want her

with awful love blooming

I can’t find her love

Where days go on and on, you feel the dirtiness reach into your eyes.

Some days are so *****, the gods and saints of London

lets the city rain **** for our punishment.

They watch laughing without any care

Cops rather chase the dope freaks,

instead of stopping the pill sellers right in every corner downtown.

cops who eat their **** for breakfast,

then go spouting it all over the innocent ones.

Jamaicans jamming the drums

i don’t know where to go?

Hamilton my old home,

still hasn’t wiped its *** in over fifty years.

but London here I come again,

another year with you.

A short man who looks like Popeye, he has that grin, and his name is Edward. I worked with him the other day, he was slowly trying to communicate with me, I wasn't in the mood. I had been up for almost 27 hrs. I went to the washroom and the locker room smelled like cheap dope; there was a man hiding in the corner smoking a cigarette. The back of the factory has more freedom, the television is blasting, radios are blaring. People are always shouting, and the leader Richard, the crazy frenchy is telling me my father’s gone ******* and he can’t work anymore.

ladies with flashing eyes
and flashing thighs.
I love it
He loves it
we all love it.

My pets are dead
at least the pork I cooked
is perfection in the mouth.
at least you have money
I like to give it mine away.

to cashiers
to give myself a false
high on life.
drink another drink
smoke another smoke
that’s life for some.
I do hope you still have
some reason left in the head.

my reason is a burning maze
a head light flickering
the good
the bad.
what do I do with it all.
my reason is a little sane
and I feel like eating my
soul to grow another one.


days become lazy and so do you
it’s good, sleep
for long hours
I couldn’t sleep for the past week
two or four hours of sleep
finally I gave up and slept for probably
the whole day missing life outside
people seem happy
and I seem sad
but something still in me
makes it all good again

and the money fades
a girl you like fades
a friend fades
others will fade as well
they will go
and you can still beat it
it smells like onion and
burned beef
old people are crowding
two oldies mucker about
not winning at the slots
and losing one hundred bucks
the oldies can ***** with ease
the talking never seems to stop
from them
they keep going with their tongue
going and going

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

flesh crayons and acrylic paints

on the white cardboard

I see long leg dogs and paint ***** and

odd shapes in my head


I brush the flesh on the board


hard red colours

blackish brown

orange and mango and sky blue paint

gets on the tides of the carpet

what to paint next

I’m always drawing faces

ugly girls with love eyes

and the mole between the nose and the lip

small *******.


I should call my art UNSOBER Arte, I painted

being on something

the colours move and swish

they dry fast

it’s freak art

bad really bad art

I know you won’t somber to it

that’s fine.

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.

As I walked out the door,
it was like a scene from a movie.
A 1950’s french new wave film.

There she was, out of nowhere,
a beautiful brunette with a
cigarette in her mouth and
she stands there right in from of me wearing
a purple dress.
why don’t more woman wear dresses?
those skinny legs.
The sexiness lied in the way she lit that cigarette.
The head goes slightly down and she lights up and walks off.
I’m a fast walker, so I pass her, and as I pass her
I think.
-*******, whoever is getting that tonight
is one lucky *******.

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

the casino taunts me and
I always want to go,
well most days…
I like to gamble but
the gambling takes time.
learn to win.
learn to lose.
I could never win big,
who knows in the future what may hold me.
but I am ready,
the winnings will come;
big winnings hopefully will come soon,
sooner than I hope.
I hate money but always want it.
money taunts me, and I spend it
on poison.
good poison that makes me feel good.

Money drains too quickly,
and why do the bad things
in life attach to me?
the drinks drain quickly,
but I’m the only one
draining them.
After my fifth ****
in my broken down bathroom.
I look in the mirror and feel
good and scared and *****.

the floor has  a bright **** stain
circle in the semi middle.
and the toilet never flushes
properly.

the man has his craziness
And it will always show
at the wrong times
The woman has it locked up
In the soul and it takes time
To unleash
She sat their drinking tea and that’s that
all calm and pure inside and out

Shots of men, bursting into
laughter of fear, we’ll never
forget,
Heartless, this society we
live in, it ******* blows.

They take their bones to make homes,
take out their heart to keep warm,
cut off their legs to have something on
their dinner plate.

The firm workmen cheating on their lives,
mating with different wives, kissing the
vibrant shadows of the night.
dust in the mist, girl giving her pose
to death and the ghosts of endearment.
Make her a sullen figure of rage and scattered hope.

cracking the knuckles

and the sound of the lion horde appears,

cracking the back and feeling warm.


I can’t sleep tonight,

it seems sleep doesn’t need me,

and I feel sad or warmth.

only the sadness reaches deeply inside

at night and that the lion horde

sounds in the head disappear.


waking up with a sick stomach,

waking up with heartburn,

a ****** dry nose.

coughing the black out the lungs.


I can’t see.

Numb babies touch me,

oh heaven where are you?

this ****** thought he could toss me around

some Indian ****** with a loud mouth

I wouldn’t leave my seat and he begged like

a pooch telling me “can you move, I wanna sit there,

let me sit beside the girl man.”


He kept begging to be beside this girl

later on he tells me that I should’ve moved because he is a

bouncer

one lousy skinny bouncer

he tells me that he would’ve put me in a head lock like the others

don’t mess with him you see


I TELL him to shut the hell up

no one cares and no one wants to hear you

he doesn’t take to kindly to these words

I am never ready for a fight but if it happens

it happens

but this fight didn’t happen

he just stood there with his stupid face

trying to scare me with his little child eyes

love-made hooligans. Partied with drug influence parted minds.
I saw Nietzsche, drawn, blabbing, crying. Sage into madness.
Paintings done in Rome, JFK, blood bombs flee over ****** U.S.S.R.
Gone into discerning schools, racist pigs, beatings for the prime minister.
I waited in vain, woke up in Vain. Died on Golden Buddhas,
Caucasians shaving their heads.
2 am hanged from pleasure, hallucinated dogs in hallways, screamed the truth in barks of airwaves.
What will come for me after death?

While scratching my chest hairs
with my pocket knife.
I was on my stained bed,
with tiny crumbs, with stains
of blood from my cut finger
from the other night.

I scratch softly,
The boredom amuses me,
kills me.

The funeral March plays softly on
the stereo.
I started liking beer,
it’s taking over the wine.
I drink,
I smoke,
well, what else is there to do on a Wednesday night?
**** myself?
But then I’ll have to get out of bed and right now,
this bed is my heaven and my muse at the moment.

my eyes are tired and dry

it’s freezing in my room

my blanket does some warmth

where is the girl?

touch of bodies

with winners

and junk heads

I ate cheese - white cheese and crackers

and red pepper dip


my **** felt sore and I ****** five times today

one was in the shower

a warm slutty shower on me

wet and there’s a stain on the towel

clean underwear in the desk drawer

grey socks

my hair is a mess


i drink a glass of water

I peel my dead skin

people are too loud outside

their voices cave through my garage

and it irritates me

it creeps all over on me

I greed for something to make it all go away

My friend tells me he gave up on his girl because she got lazy and smoked crazy dope too much and got sightly fat and got too much of a barrel of bombs that shouldn’t be around no more, throw her over the bridge, he gets fit and I get drunk and get lost in the streets and this little belly on me from something is soft and mean, good night I never hear in this house, crumbs on the table, crumbs and maybe mice- something- will feed from my food crumbs in the black night.

***** floor and the carpet in my bedroom stinks and it feels rough and I don’t have that girl to clean up for me, and no food to cook, I cook something and it tastes good, I’m a good cook, I should have been a cook.

I should have been something good in life but laziness takes over and ambition is nowhere to be found- how it felt to have you around once not eating for two days and you gave me your food, your soul, It made me fall for you more in some room that we will never touch again.

I am the electric sun, beating on my cyanide drum.
Putting the world in drastic sleep of dreams, where
we dance on the elevated hill, chanting songs
of the delicate anger and Joy

Feast your eyes on me my saint, for I,
the electric sun, praise everyone! I worry
and creep the eye of Neptune, I sit in my
slim bodied chair, watching the race
of the glorious flower child. She
flies away in the burst of the symbolic light.

I can be your sun king Lion, i have virtue and
I’m always hunting for my prey of mechanical power.
I just look into my blinding mirror, and see my glazed
eyes. My grey ***** chin hair growing into a pathway
for death.

Gasping, i am now one of the powerless,
beating my elder drum, chanting to the saints
of Petersburg. Laughing away while rushing
through that last breath.

I became weak. Who killed wisdom, when all he wanted
was for righteousness to make love to power, so they could
have a child called reality. Now our halcyon sun king can rest
with sympathy, joining with its true paradise.

2009

In the headlines it said some guy
hanged himself by tooth floss.
then I decided to go into
the washroom and floss my teeth.
the gums started bleeding,
I could taste it.
I spat warm dark blood in the
sink, letting the tap wash it away,
My gums were more disturbed than
the brutal killing of a pig.
the inside of my nose is also dry.

The free press in this town
is horrible,

what about the crazy old man
that’s always stopping in the
streets picking things off the
road, maybe he knows more than
the mayor.
Well of course there’s always
someone better we’ll never know
or ever find him and make him a winner.
A better love is in Mexico,
but in Canada you will never
see Mexico and you’ll just be in
love with every girl
because you think it’s all unfair.

some kids are already playing the adult.
some adults will forever be kids,
There is nothing we can do,
I’m not going to save them
I’m just going to go to the store
and buy a four dollar scratch
ticket to get something out
of something.

It was last Saturday,

she said she was coming over soon and

I needed help to finish off the bottles.

She at least makes good company, but of course

she couldn’t make it.

So I decided to drink alone,

woke up at noon,

a rainy Sunday with a beautiful hangover.

There was blood stains on the carpet,

looking at my hand, cuts everywhere.                                                                            

“What the hell happened last night?” I look at the time and it’s already 3 PM.

finally getting out of bed,

I get in the kitchen,

i can’t think,

i can feel the saliva coming up my throat,

still i make eggs and toast,

i know I’m going to be sick.

I walk to the washroom, put my head right in the toilet

I finally throw up, clean up in the washroom.

the sickness is all gone, and

I can finally enjoy my cold meal.

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

She puts a massacre on her lips with that lipstick,
I dream about you far away
while flowers and dogs and cats
eat themselves up.
You would think I’m a boring man because all I do is sit in the dark and be myself.
I’ll write another doomed poem for safety.
I drank the whole bottle of wine and
woke up with no hangover.
someone yells ****** out my window
and the boys laugh on.
The blacks walk and talk like that
and a white couple see them
and start to
walk the other way.
I feel a bruise on my leg.
Where did that come from?
and why do angels fear you?

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

It was too **** hot to be working in a factory.

Outside it was probably 25 degrees Celsius,

but inside it gets 5x hotter than it should be.

I’m always bending down, and the sweat takes over,

the sweat falling down on my face, wiping it every second.

I take off the “necessary” safety glasses

which I’d never wear anyway.

They would get fogged up and

I had enough of it.

The higher up people have said

they don’t need a break,

they just shove water in our face.

I chugged the whole bottle down and soon got cramps.

and no breaks were coming,

but the cars kept coming.

the other body

the kid who enters the other body to find a new miracle

will never find his true self.

Taking his virginity of life

will never satisfy the way he sees

the other side.

At college I passed many good looking girls.
They surrounded the place
At night I was always stuck in a room filled with girls
They talk what girls would talk about
well how would I know?
talking about periods and what to do with the pad after worth
flushing condoms
I was with this girl always
and she was with other girls always
The guys seemed to dull or just
not too interested to talk to
I was quiet
and I just left sometimes
to drown in my room
my holy sanctuary
the power always ran out
and I would have to go downstairs
to the head desk person
telling them my power is out
than having to go back up
to my room and wait and wait
and wait and wait until the
janitor came with the keys
to unlock the fuse box
and to put my power back on again

Back into my sanctuary
and music was playing again
I found a joint
smoked it
became free again
the window showed the parking lot
and the people talking
I threw my garbage out the window
and went to bed.

It was too silent like as if John cage
were playing the piano
and no one felt safe


someone threw up in the dark

the alcohol in me came to quickly

   and stars brightened and the streets turned to waves of light


Monet or was it Matisse

I believe Monet was dead

and Matisse was laughing his

head off while painting the drunk street

into his mind of colours


jazz kills opera

****** becomes a fad

the spider dreams of its

teeth in flesh


little girls dance

on the stage

and the mothers will cry

with their veins popping

out their forehead from cheering

the little girls do not hear

           the cheers


it’s silent as john cage finishes

          his piece

and now we can hear the clapping

The organs play around in the body

and people stink with wet *******

bus people tend to make you feel better about yourself

but then the random crazy comes aboard

and spews spit and incoherent words.



Monday with tired eyes

Tuesday with bleeding fingers

wednesday with a volcanic hangover

Thursday with sore lungs

Friday with shaking bones

’d rather be sleeping than seeing you

I’d rather be sleeping than seeing my friends

I’d rather be sleeping than be dead

I’d rather be sleeping than being in a crowd

I’d rather be sleeping than talking to people

because the people I seem to only talk to are dumb and

never have a clue what they are saying

I’d rather be sleeping than being around you

even though we are together most of the time

and that time is well spent

I’d rather be sleeping

I’d rather be sleeping because

I’d rather be sleeping without you

I’d rather be sleeping with you

I’d rather be sleeping because

there is no point of being up

I never get anything done

I’d rather be sleeping

because I get to

dream

I’d rather be sleeping because sleep

seems to be the only thing that

keeps me going

Sleep you are good to me

but the problem is

I can never sleep

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

apple cider
burns.
Why haven’t you
eaten your vegetables?
why don’t you ever smile?

I failed myself and took
off and walked in the
oblivion forest.
Came back more scared.
I always think.
I have a pocket knife
but I know that won’t save me.

I’m stuck in this hole mother.
I’ve become an ******* to you,
to others.
While at home-
My home far away
from you and others.
Hide in beds
eating stale bread
with cheese.

Outside has it advantages.
but you know
some people
look at other people

they
smile
or sneer.
they walk to the far side
noticing
a ***** *** needing
fool in his soul.
he mumbles,
what is he saying,
he mumbles,
other people want to be other people,
they are too scared to become themselves.

A knife fight happens downtown
somebody yells *****
and tries to hit the other guy’s woman.
what a fight.
but of course the cops appear
out of nowhere.
the night action is done
for today.

Back in the day,
when life was grey,
you see yourself all grown up.
You're pretty, you're ugly,
your **** stays the same.
Wake up.
The same girls are still pretty,
the drunks and druggies are dead,
they just love to play with your head.
You are a man now,
a dead man.

two bodies

and they are filled with lies

two bodies
that don't love each other anymore
music never plays again
I imagine seeing you
Sherri in my bedroom
right now
you see me drinking
hard at one pm
I know you would be
sad and yelling at me
What the **** is wrong with you!
and the best of all
I would be taking it all from you
I feel too bad to yell back at you
your eyes shine in the room
while yelling
and I'm in love again.

my pain is numb
what is your pain like?
I seem to always have dreams
of Sherri and old friends and
old classmates who never think
of me
but I think of them.
Is that what a nightmare is?

I could never stand the snow,
it’s nice to see sometimes,
but it’s never good to feel.

Winter becomes a dark sad time,
and the people get fat.
The snow adds more work
into my life, and I never want to
work, I rather sit on the couch
and then jump up quickly, walking
quickly to my room to write
another mighty bad poem.

Quickly I type it before it leaves my head,
when it leaves it never comes back.
The one week in the dead winter cold. I had a poem in my head,
and I had nothing to write with.
I was going crazy, ahhhhh…
but I FOUND ONE!
and I ripped a blank page
from the book I was reading.
finally letting it out,
finally relaxed.