I love that blindside you to be a part for me to know that I am not sure if I can find it in you and what you used to do that **** and I will be in the morning to see up to date with my **** between you and me or and I if you are looking for a bit of a headache and a few days to ago I and I was wearing a black shirt with you for two days now but I have to get my **** on your way to your office to help me out with the braid wants me back with a new job.

If you never want to speak again,
or if you want to ignore me,
I'm okay with that. I understand.

But you have to be okay with that too.

Through these nightly mind-movies
I see beautiful stories unfold,
yet I awaken sweaty and cold.

In these sporadic visions of slumber
I see her in the sliding glass
door, standing right behind me.

I know the lot of you
liked my ******* plaid poem,
so don't try to hide it
you stupid sheep.

Poetry is ******* stupid too,
so ***** all of you.

give up
on being
cool

Even though she cannot see
the flow of invisible history
it wraps her soul in the tide
of the flood waters of time
and she is drug helplessly
along into fate repeating.

I tell myself I'm sick of doing shots and then I wise up and do a shot of brandy to calm my qualms. After lighting another cigarette I forget all about what I was telling myself in the first place.

Soon the memories you're making now
will be the ones you long to remember.

Oh boy do I love
just pumping out these ****** poems,
hope your eyes are hungry
dear readers,
because you may feast upon
my endless defecation.

Songbirds, like lost lovers, call to each other in the pale morning sun.
The wet grass darkens the cloth draped over her torso as she lies
down and considers the people who used to be so **** nice to her.
So joyous, their eyes brimmed with light and appreciation.
She saw those old eyes in the floating clouds, she saw them in the
negative space between the fallen leaves, she saw them seeing her
through the reflections in the ripping creek water as it rushed by.
Little glints of light, like shimmers of the way things used to be,
dance in her sight and taunt her to try and find a way to fix everything.
A way to return the light to her life.
A way to see those eyes again.
The eyes of the people
who used to be so nice.

yeah totally
uh-huh, sure man
right.

black sweaters
black tights
black jeans
black hair
black heels
black chucks
black socks
black jackets
black nails
black glasses
black eyes

When do we know when
to do as we're told and
when to find it out on our own?

Is there a line?
For I can't seem to find
**distinction.

Echoing memories.
Singing along.
A sweet siren's song,
Beckoning in reverse.

A simple task,
Ignore the past.
Stay true to your course.

Coarse or fine,
Threaded divine;
Fascinating fasteners.

Dogs will bark,
The sun will rise
And, memories
still whisper.

Don't buy my drinks,
and don't sing to me
because I'm tired and I
want to go to sleep.

The ***** sets me free
but it's not who I want to be
so just don't buy me drinks
and don't sing to me.

It's so dry in these dreams
but it's nice being thirsty
on this vast open sea
without a drop to drink.

I ****** the bed last night
just like I used to do years ago,
but I didn't bother changing my sheets.

Because I mean, ****,
I'm only sleeping with me.

is a day when I get to work.

You have ****** taste.

It's so easy to be kind to people,
the hard part is actually meaning it.

Is it better to be revered,
or just left alone?

I don't know.

Moist and slick.

God it's just so funny,
or maybe it just feels that way
because I smile so **** much,
and how she makes me laugh all day.

Man I'm so **** lucky
this opportunity came my way,
because between the rough *******
and the way we dream while wide awake
I know that this love is here to stay.

Sheesh it's so **** crazy
how it's happened so fast,
but I'm so **** confident we've built
something beautiful that can last.

So don't mind me as I burn
so brightly, and in turn
I'll dream of you nightly
until I can return.

I'm addicted to crack-
ing my knuckles.

Sometimes I obsess heavily
and not in a good way
Sometimes I think in circles
all throughout the day

I just don't know what I want
and looking at your pictures
is driving me insane with lust

I care
I don't care
It's all the same and
I'll never forget your name

If you look hard enough
maybe you'll be able to see
a little bit of your father
deep inside of me.

Or maybe you won't.

But you can still
call me daddy.

I hate myself.

I've viridian envy
for your Teflon tongue.

How painlessly your words slide
from between your lips.
Sure it may be non-stick,
but it sure is cancerous.

I'm always tied and tired.
A stuttering, blundering mess.
That's all that I can manage
when I try to address.

I'm a poor orator.
A vocal trainwreck.

Thus I turn to an inky friend:
My true new blue pen.
My words don't fumble,
or stumble around,
when I take the time
to write them all down.

My fingers don't stutter,
they don't get stuck on
certain letters.
They don't get stuck on
my first name,
or last.

I'll write it all out for you,
I'll write the whole world down.
Although I have to take a break
at least for right now, because

my hand is starting to cramp.


I guess it was all just a moot truth.
I guess my muscles do stutter too...

Do you think?
Doesn't it hurt?

Is it ever enough?
I don't want money.

It's selfish
and it's cruel,
to tell you
that I'm thinking about you.

So I'll just go to bed.

Quietly and alone.

Constantly accommodating conditionality
has steadily become entirely intolerable,
thus this premonition of exquisite repose
grants my psyche an opportunity to rejoice.

Crispity crunchy,
Zagnut bars are delicious,
do you like this watch?

Vince gives me five bucks
to feed the hungry jukebox

Sometimes it's better
to be nice
than to be right.

Puddle of shade, both
cool and damp,
I darkle
in the dwindling day.

But a shadow,
is all I am.

Cast forth
by the sun,
as it sets on the man
I once was.

This is all so different,
yet also seems familiar.

I guess the words are the same,
it's just the way they're presented
that has changed.

Perhaps silence beckons.

a walk in the park,
or a waltz in the dark

it don't matter to me
I'm pretty easy

so put on your jacket
or take off your pants,
and lets dance already

Mirrors and monitors
cloud my vision
with a dichotomy
between ignorance
and self indulgence.

taste the turmoil
on my trembling tongue

sip
slurp

and I'm gone