I'd like to live within you, the objective world working in tandem with the human imagination, the intersectionality is humor, sparking lust and color and ******, violent and ****, salty and stimulating.  

you're excessive bounty of lies, that which when worked into a fabric create an obscure fact, manipulate the memory and all the sudden the image is juxtaposed with the perception, then they lay on top of one another, creating a illusion so powerful that fact flies out the window, to claim evidence is foolish, for the scenarios flip within themselves as actors change disguises, as acrobats practice their summersaults, as discs spin in the video game set

to wish for a reality so vast, that an open field connecting the ocean to the city is but a comparison grounded by gravity, whereas your portals know no bounds, you give the people a voice and yet the voice is anonymous, therefore the individual becomes collective, therefore the money blends as the ideas blend as kisses blend at a masquerade, fueled by the promise of donation and champagne

Terror, hate, giving way to curiosity

flipping mcdonalds hamburgers. and I asked for tabasco sauce, and since I’m clumsy, I dropped the bottle and  vinegar cayenne spilled all over the counter, everyone in the classroom was ******, man, and I’m telling you this because it’s a good dream, and you look like you could use some livening up, so bare with me.  So I’m shunned, I’m embarrassed, I’m angry, a cocktail of awful, stressful emotions surround me, upsetting, and I feel there is no way out.  But something inside of me, that anger perhaps, that part of myself that hates my mother and wishes I was never born, that part seem to unshackle itself within my soul, and I jumped out of my seat, ignoring the last few bites of my second double cheeseburger, and I flew out the front door, and I’m outside the house I grew up, los altos, Jay street, nice place, and I run, out of my mind, I run left because that’s the fastest way to get out of sight and onto a busy street so I know I can get away easier.  Behind me I hear my father crying, WAIT, WAIT, seany, but I don’t LISTEN, I RUN and it feels like keroac when he went mad, yeah it feels like a cheetah must feel, all that hatred made me run faster, and I was making my way down the adjacent street el monte, and my father wasn’t following me anymore, and for a moment there was relief.  Then, of course, with any story of escape, there is conflict.  A ******* bear.  it sounds funny in retrospect, but I swear to god it was a bear, Chris, big and mean Grizzly in the middle of el monte street, no cars, just me and the bear.  I was petrified, almost enough to head back to the house, but the hatred stopped me, **** it all man, that’s what it was,  so my gut lead me another way.  No!  I didn’t fight the ******* bear, Chris, that’s stupid, didn’t you see the revenant?.  So I took a detour, running up north elmonte, the other direction.  The bear wasn’t chasing me anymore.  next thing you know, my hands are moving over a picket fence, and I come to an immediate clearing.  It’s the beach in Santa Cruz.  I swear.  Where my grandma lived, the same beach, at the point where we used to make our daily walks to put our toes in the sand, cold beach.  and there was something, something getting in the water, a rodent of some kind, a squirrel, a raccoon, and it got into the ocean and began swimming against the waves.  And I wasn’t running anymore, and I felt like I had crossed a finish line, like I had done everything I needed to do in this world, I was ready to go.  My mind was clear, in that moment.  and in that moment, my grandmothers voice was trailing off in the distance, not saying anything, just murmuring at the end of a sentence as she does “so it goes” in acceptance. she has acceptance in her voice.  And I woke up to my girlfriend’s alarm.

lead me to temptation

you little bully of tequila, you're better than that, she whispered in my ear
and I decided to take it up a notch, that I did

and you hit the sweet spot for a little while and that is more than alight

take a large huff and puff and then win a game, you nectar ******* juicer ready to pounce on wheat bread, ha

lay it out and lay in on, lay the spicy mustard on the pastrami, please

please, and thank you, please and thank you

there's a song where they call them the magic words

and boy oh boy, isn't that a charming notion

Pokemon was a way to train warriors, worried about their tribal spells, being ready for the action, and the mother is okay with him taking a long time to get to bed at night before his big match, and it's all set and ready, and its all set and ready, and the interpol weaves the majestic time tables to rotate into another direction, because they are full of perfection, the pokemon, presenting itself in the highest of fashions, in a beautiful red and white ball that reflects the sunshine always, yes.  

The different characters follow along their path, and they love to make their crazy sounds, and the brightest creature of all the creatures is a cat with thunderbolts!   A CAT WITH THUNDERBOLTS

shooting the lightning
shooting the lighting
shooting the majesties
shooting the lightning
shooting the lightning
shooting the majesties

OUT OF CONTROL
AND FULLL OF SPLENDOR AND MADNESS AND SWINE AROUND THE CORDIAL MEASURE OF SPENDITUDE ALONG A SACRED LINE
ALONG A SACRED LINE

I’m waiting for that titter tatter of brain matter to come in and let me know whats really going to happen below the belt, I’m waiting for that slash of mystery finish that will reveal whats hiding at the end of the tunnel, I’m waiting to be tossed about, build and ravished and destroyed, smashed into a million pieces and turned into tinker toys, I’m wanting to be broken down by scientific analysts only to be a mistake mystery explanation for string theory.  I’m hoping for a mixture of time axis, along the equator, letting the jukebox serenader agree to the next fashion statement.  I’m marveling at the mystery of mixed up majestic time tables, who will lead me to exactly where I need to be.  I just want the sweet marmalade nectar to fall down my throat and lead me to a dreamless sleep so I may wake up and know exactly where my destination lies, no coffee, complete. I’m yearning for the woods to call on my name and show me the nook where the fallen spirits lay and they will help me, take my hand and show me the horror so I know when to hide and when to come out and be alive.  I’m gazing at paintings and marveling at the different colors and letting the textures be examples of how to stroke and at the precise moment when a mirage becomes a masterpeice.  I’m noodling with the spaghetti stories and taking my turn to lead it to the guru who will finish it with one hand held up, and a finger gone, understanding the principles of buddhism.  I’m throwing knives in the air and letting them fall into the sand then dropping acid and doing a dance between their places, knowing very well that I may land and meet my gruesome death.  I am putting my feet up and staring at the ceiling and knowing its distinct features, its bubbles, its textures, and the answers?  they are only in the subtle hum of the air conditioner, the ceilings stoic nature, and the space between.

the elderly want to tell their echoes because they knows that they will be left behind soon and that fears them, pride an legacy run so deep

men want to be the best they can be, something taught us that we must conquer the world, and men believe that this is their purpose
people swarm to wormholes, and then they get ****** dry

but these men, in their old age

have a spirit that needs to be expressed
try asking an old man
a question

I feel like adding in my own little melody
with a black hawk heaven diving down the butterfly
with a shockwave central beating at the art of a dragonfly
with a *** tim tim to my aching heart that sinks below
when I hear of damaged goods on their way to my feet
when I hear of damaged goods on their way to my feet
and I pick up a handful of sand, and I walk down the beach
and I look up, my hair is in curls and it is soggy
fluff and stuff and I'm carrying sea shells
the shockwave at the center of the body
beating itself, beating itself

So much energy
So much countless energy
Dedicated to one thing
And one thing only
Hit him up for a lesson
And he will teach you his ways
Hung up on memory projection
Out of state, out of state
Imprisoned, shackled down by the few, the many
Expressionless and absorbed by many colors
Making a few marks on majesty, uncovering the beauty of it all
Unhurt by logic, untouched by sound
Spitting in greater reasons
Great and small
Waiting till the point that you either have to die
Or drop the ball
Whatever that may be
Whatever that may look like
Increasing in hands and ski technology
Expressed by numerous representatives all wanting an equal shot at each other
And ending up on pages and pages worth of mill and junk and whatever needs to be said and whatever needs to be born
Deciphered decouple disinherit, side vowed
Interlocked and interwoven
Machine like aristocracy
Misjudging so quickly
Misjudging like an abyss judges the appropriate time to go by
Mixing it up on a rotating mirror of color,hands free interact interact
And make space Angela out of whatever is left
It is finally here
Performing for you

I heard a guitar player
On the subway platform
As the train was passing
And his voice sounded very real
It was soothing for a moment
Those sounds,
But then the doors closed
And we were on our way
And he'll never know
That I appreciated him
I will never see his eyes
His guitar case
Loose change

alone with the page
and it is very relaxing
to exist in this way
alone
with the page,
and the space is clear for singing
but I don’t want much noise
just silence
when work is over
music would be too intrusive
no, just silence,
for the moment
please

Power
and the desire to be a good person
and how they flirt with one another
in a house surrounded by a cylinder
it is blue
and it has an echo echo echo
and boy does it want to scream
love love love
possessed by the elderly and the ******
possessed by blessed and doomed
it
this flirtation
is delicious

sometimes you just have to take things into your own hands
I’m not sure of what else to type
perhaps I’ll just play a video game again
for awhile

the wishing wells eating up their spells, the mystery tour catching an early flight to greeece and ending up broke with no fishing tail to catch onto, mystery wheels of which way and rhyme a quick way to pass the time working on fishnet and fishtails to bring into a *** of good luck that can either be lousy or unimpressive and stupid the lovers cast their first spell and fear is driving them but its heading up to good luck, and the clouds are permissive, and they understand what they need to understand, and I’m not doing this for anyone but myself from now on, I guess thats just a decision that you have to make, and the precious fools who make an irony out of their vanity will be great too, and we will do a dance together, yes we do a dance together
I am a man that wants to do his best to preserve what is coming, to grant solitude and goodness to those that were good to me, I believe in a  God moving through things, controlling things that I cannot understand, because things are just too **** complex, working way soldiers on a ride to vacancy, vacancy, vacancy, oh just scribbles and random dots showing on either side of reading lot and loving the poetry and the history of it, and sometimes there is a movie, oh sometimes a classroom is a place to dream, to dream rather than to actually focus on the lesson, a random destruction of beauty, a random destruction of beauty, lovely forces making on a take out transition into fuller notions of equality, and loving their morality, and just making their decisions good enough to foster an excelllece, of equal stature of equal pride, moving through the ride, moving through the ride, and they all excel at what they can and cannot do, and he kept them still cool, and he could have taken the ride, but he chose not to, what of a hero?  what of a savior? what of a pastor attempting to take down everything that he has already established and coming up with nuclear error, pasting out the tangible worst of makeshift cranny acid truculent succulent brandy candy plans to see me jammy

the dangerous things
and the alright things
working in tandem
and making excuses
for one another
and following a pantomime
of absences
and destroying the future
and destroying the future
and loving the mystical shadows
and eating their hearts out
with limitless unlimited closures
and making skills out of profits
and destroying the grounds that stand beneath
then laughing it all the way out
and bringing bad luck
at the lunchens and the meetings
and feeling unsafe and uncomfortable
and being a winner or being a loser
or perhaps seeing a winner in the eyes
and understanding fear
and worrying about something else
instead
the long treasures of a circuit
eats is way to the heart of things
and let it be exposed!
let it be wild!
let it be dangerous
and alright things
and things working in tandem
and destroying the future
and eating their hearts out
and making skills out of profits
and laughing
laughing
laughing

compelling you forward
compelling you backward
compellling you each and every way
and compelling you every day
and it works out
in this way
for awhile
and I feel
less afraid of things
and more willing
to make it all work out
in the end
with people to worry about
and consider
and the hardships of that
and having to be somebody like hank
in order to figure it all out
its a blossoming season
its a blossoming rhyme
rhyme great, small or treason
to the common good
to the common people
attempting to make their mark
on the droppings of confession
and making it interesting
for the past lives and in the future
and furnature
and wanting to make it in an existing place
and making arrangements with the many few who go about cursing and sailing
who make pictographs with negative lines running through them
then call in security when the measures are not falling through
its cemented in the logic and in the people
its cemented on the brains of idiocracy
and its laminated in fortune and solitude
and its mixing
calculated
clockwork
nonsense

I sit here
and try to figure out
what the next thing I am going to say is
i don’t know if it is the history
or I don’t know if its the signs from the roosevelts
being who they were
making decisions
and I don’t know where all this capitalist conundrum comes from
but I’m obsessed with beauty
and the way it works
I like to study it
and understand my figures
and understand my neighbors
and I am emotionally drained from work
but I am compelled
to continue doing what I do
and there will be things
that come and go
and make measures clear
and work in tandem with the fixtures overhead
and recite lines with the best who were out on a wing
and make love to circus freaks visiting their own visions
and liking the way leo works between films
and destroying art when it is ironic to do so
oh jeeze the way these things work
and they

are

just

broke

and

happy

I'm on the subway
Now
Thinking about poetry
How it moves through the membranes
And makes me dip my head in the sink
Cool water against my face, the streets have been turned on to me
I guess that was hanks way of saying
I'm a bad boy just by virtue of reading his work
And I hope that is true
I'd like to be a wild vulture
Silent, stewing in the miraculous discovery of it
I'd like to wear my leather boots with pride
I'd like to be a snake fighting with a hawk and sting his way out, slither away, indifferent to death
There isn't anything standing in my way, really
I am wearing the James dean jeans., and I've got my head crooked down slightly with my forehead furrowed

Yeh, today will be okay