always trying to prove something, to neself, to the universe,

to the person down the street

ehh purple hair and fractional tennis *****, then

lead the plastic barriers,

remember the number

ohh saintly hell, I feel like the callous on my feet are even stronger than last month, and this walk is jazzy

so I go about proving the gods, or some diety, that this is, infact, tanglible...artifact to be exact

proving it to the widow who fancies the conversation more than the content,

proving it to pine needles who know they willl fall in two, three days, anyway


prove it to myself, and my toes, and my eyeballs

red flesh and bolstered blood,

can I have a candybar for sixpence from the richardsome magician in the sky?

no, he is occiupid with tobacco candy and the home baseman is comalainging about his peanut pickings


If only I was a kite, then fate would truely be out of my hands, and there wouldn't be any more reason to feel proud,

perhaps tied to a tree for an eternity, perhaps confused bewtee the medeterranean sea and south africa,


who could i be?

Everyones poetry is boring

write better poems

I'm the best

I've heard of fools who believe in a place like heaven where the paint dries itself and its warm and pleasant, I've heard of their books and how they pass on looks to those in need of gasoline at stations and believe their hands clean, frame their pictures and love everything. I've heard of those fools, and I've seen their forevers, on countertops, sleeping off the dust in the eye, forever thinking through forevers, with a presense.

and everyday they wipe themselves clean, and that's alright with me

I wish to let userS_know


sos, sos

I wish that each reader leave,

with a wet kiss, hot water.....ice

do and don't., died

the is guaranteed



_sealed

user....bakfire

voodoo

You can see the sadness in people's eyes, they feel sorry, or they are fidgeting in their seats, they made an attempt to figure something out, but then the truth ate them up, they listened a few times but then got pushed onto their backs

The children in their Jewish curls and dresses, and their mothers reciting prayers, they will know a world that is always...always... inside


Sadness in the eyes, and eagerness in the children, happy for snacks. To write. Do I have a responsibility to them?  What does that even mean?

Stopping myself from thinking what I'm thinking, Jesus believe me, I would have it any other way

What does it mean to surrender? To have more clarity?  To let go?  To see music, and to rekindle eagerness and curiousity, what else is worth living for?  Only questions, no poetry

On the one hand, this, on the other, that
Too much

How are we going to do it?

Exploit our experiences, take bits and peices

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.

how much do I have to know
before I can write something down?

how much to I have to learn?
what does the university have to teach me?

what advice to I need to get from my uncle??
what article do I need to READ ON VICE
on what PRICE does the timing have to come through

and what method do I have to use
to make the right arrangement of flowers
in the vase??? what method do I need?

I swing myself around and dig through the ashes and look for alternative measures for more counting card brigades of clans and crusaders, teach me your blessings, and I will sit at the table and eye like a hawk, with shades on, the CLUE

give me yours and I’ll walk in a green

SUIT

wherever or whatever or for whatever reason, philosophize, come orignial, or not, ironically a mimic!  hear the cry of a raving lunatic? and he speaks some truth and his banter is a symbol of a species that needs to be watered?  where is the sense?  and the hatred, no not the hatred, the excess, the spoils, the soot, flows through the cracks in the clay ***

how many lessons?  
how many times?

how many guesses? play the power ball how  many

TICKETS
count them all, and **** around with advice

listen to Cuban, the man who flips businesses like burgers
listen to Cobain, who will sing his refrain take a drag of his cigarette and say something is great, in his particular way
listen to Christians, sing a long and live forever and that is Great, in their own particular way

questions
QUESTIONS
QUESTIONS
driving me mad, driving me to the absolute brink of insanity

and boy
is it

Delicious

who could resist being up this early and watching the MOON DISAPPEAR before my eyes?  

I’m still here, but the moon decided to go to sleep


I feel very grandiose about this, I must have more stoicism than the moon, even


and I take a long pull from a ten dollar brut and I congratulate myself  in the way the french know, with a flick of a wrist and a nose into the frame..


could it be any more of a wonderful sweaty awful burden?

could I be more tempted?  I will lick it all like a puppy

my tongue will develop horrible callous and pallups

Id have to start using extra care listerine and pop them and watch the blood ooze down the mirror from my snarly, yellow tongue

but i swear, it would be worth it

I’d taste the smoke coming from the chimney

I’d taste the fluorescent bulbs in the billboard advert. reminding me about time..

I’d like the palm trees that are so stoic themselves they are of stone…

the freeway would taste like used cigarettes and budwiser and jizzy ribbed trojans


the balconies and rooftops would be clean, the gravel cared for at least a month ago,

three months ago

I was afraid of myself

and I’m going along with my merry thoughts, wherever they may take me
and sometimes it leads to something profound, but most often
not anywhere at all, it goes this ways
and that
and it cannot be tracked, it runs around circus wheels, it plays with james dean as the devil, it runs with daniel day lewis into new personas, all the way, all the way, it deals with time tables, formed into absolute chaos, it begins with the forming of a new age and then eats itself and starts back inward again, it is a hypotuse, without any cameras, stuck in a gymnasium, with nothing but hand shakes that do not mean anything, its making it way through the barrakades of your interior, its reaching out to hammocks and outer branches, it is terrified that you are about the leap to the next chapter and never figure out what comes next.  I am the person to teach because I am the person who is also reluctant, but this would never fly with the school system.  It is calm, it is relentless.  It is beautifully neurotic in its own powers, she wants it she wants it she wants it and I gave it to her, the best way I could, the best way I could.  her body is so incredible, as it is, as it is, and I want it that way, lay me away, lay me away, lay me away,

darkened by the maddened bundle,

streaming on

streaming on

streaming on

Wherever they
may take me

I chose not to trust him tonight
I chose to head to the bars alone
away from ilyse
and I chose to keep to myself, hugging some
I asked some for reassurance, I suppose,
but for the most part I kept to myself, hung to myself
hung by myself
staggered at my own self
staggered at all of it
I am desparate
fallen into a well of void
I want to be just like HIM, just like THEM
i'd like to FIT IN BETTER
but I am
STUCK
in this vanity
of shrinking infinity
slick this off my back and turn to the next onward motion and hope that it sticks! for gods sakes, for the poor old boy
give him a shot of bourbon, he needs it

this THING
eating at my guts
is it forever?

eternal?

you would know, you thrusting GASHING
BIRD, CARDINAL
GO BACK TO YOUR PERCH

I made a neucanse out of my luxuries


the wine worries me


and the high only takes me so far


want the words an the numbers and the faces to ean something?  can't you accept nighilis?


spit out another phrase to make sense of it, fine


I type in order to avoid bedrest, I haven't begun makes my own arrangements for that yet, it doesn't even make sense, really


as the battery begins to die, my wine runs dry

and,seriously, out of things to say as the orbit on tv goes tp mir o,,ideate sp;ar system, impressive to the 80's physicist

using their finger s and thumbs to re enact the satellites behaviors

I pity their inaccuracy

If only the string theory folk

could get their act

together

I don't know
where else to turn to
I've exhausted my supplies
and now I'm naked writing a poem
my book probably *****
and you are reading this
probably naked

seal a deal?

take my spin, take the wheel?

a dart of the bass knows the tones

won't a kiss?  

take that, take off the peel?

You can read your book and it will tell you
how to
See
think before
Acting
You can read it
You can watch it on a screen
And it will let you be there
Before you
Act it
You can speak it ******
and you can hear it
Before you go
You can
Dig
And that's about
it

Then there's the Do
there's the Try
You've got he reason why
only between you and
God

and its inherent
it's bound between the reams
in the inflections
electirified
through the chords
and strings

Take it with
Your daily
Coffee
and whatever Pill
gets you through the day
and hey
I hope it works out
For you
Lessons
Perspectives
Changing

Like airport gates

Popping like bubbles

In a spring breeze

temptation arises out of every little shower head nozzle, they seep and they search and they cloak my body


I hardly move, I harly care if it is hot, if it is cold


it’s as if the forks squeak indefinitely but the feet are handcrafted and dropping E minor on a D and calling it’s square even, female singer, butler drummer

or more like a metal rod from a factory that has somehow made it’s way into a tether ball poll, one of the ones that stands for a hundred years until a desperate housewife calls it *****- and (they replace it with a post modern neck breaking device)


I feel humbled by the stony clay that surrounds my chest and enters my fingertips



and the razors on my lips turn up at tv channels I simply detest

will this engine cease?


sometimes I wish it would

up on each side of the street, there are markets- flowers, knick knacks, strawberrys....

glass, dispensaries, two hair salons adjacent, nobdy picking on each others business, umbrella lady is patient


uptwon more high rises, a standard issue brooklyn-style cafe and then a mini market with conviniences.  

parking lots, skid row is teemed with decent hobos, scary hobos, hobos who make eye contact and those who don't.  Most hobos make eye contact

they pitch tents, **** it.  The policemen are on bycycles, or rushing for no reason

a c fashion district for wigs and gowns and jr prom emergencies, pink wigs blonde wigs darkwigs, mostly blonde ones, white ones

suglasses, casts of impressive busom stature

car lots, the car lot across the street

it's function rotates clockwise

they have an umbrella and wait,

patiently

Round we had he moment


moment, moment moment

closure clour closure,


I held him close and wiped his tear, occationally,

I helped buid his shlter, fine

don't you see the wall?

going from lake to lake...

help me understand this buzzing

this echo chamber, glee out of misery

******!  Hell!  OHOHHH

I changed the reaction time,


how a neutral makert, how a window breaks when nobody cares

how a flower market stays in business for ten to fifteen years

how'd why and whodunnit
here’s your rose


and the evening blends with the morning,

did you take that purity from me, bird who sings when I sing?  coincidence?

or did you take it from me, as I sang it…as you would steal my string cheese I had for breakfast


I paint the town with my poison, with my jacket, with my eyes, invisible

snap chat vanishment taken from the lyric of a turnover rap song,

I flip the krabby patty and it does…sizzle

so did you find your dignity?


Changed the reaction time, neo was struggling to work with trinity,

and of course, he was defenseless when it came to good noodles


the agents, well, they couldn’t stand the smell of gasoline and cigarettes

feels a bit better

a bit easier

there was, no commotion this morning, and the people in my life

all surround me

the breaths are deep,

and there is silence, and a bit of romance, romantic film, romantic talk,

some business, some let downs

but I'm un-effected, still ready, still poised, understanding of what I want, and those are all good feelings

so I sit and write, and that is okay

Oh la lee lah noticing those at the end of the bar
Some have it all figured out while others
Call for one more round
Bottles draft and straight up
It's all okay, hey! Hey!  I like this song, and me too, I as well, here's to going down, down. Down

The game is on
Games
I'll sip to that
Savor, or down it
I'm all about that
Whole or partial
It's excellent

One more on me
You've got the next one
We may be here today
But time is funny
And everywhere there is irony
So, you might be a part of a plot twist
Of whiskey ginger, sour, on the rocks
With a bit of lemon on the rim
Yeah, that kind of

Twist

I am reassuring everyone in my life that everything is going to be okay
while in the meantime I'm truly just
fine
really, its fine
IT has
heartbeat
and IT has
pulse
and IT grows
leaves
and there is
beer
and
bed
and
rent

those things are all fine, and fine is
fine

and I don’t really yearn for anything outside of that
life is brilliant to witness

every day
and every day

I witness it
and bite into it
the pulp is
Fine

and I wait
I do not walk into traffic
I fear death

rational

and ongoing

I suppose that I

have something figured out

I’d like to take a walk
but its raining

and I look into the mirror
and I look

great

like I should be advertising scotch
my beard looks stern
and my eyes
strong

my blazer hangs off my shoulders
fierce

yes, things are

Fine

and the pulse
and the breath
and the leaves

Poem Poem Poem

Poeeeemm

POEM

PAOFKDOAFJADKAOFJDAOFJADJFAj

POAME???
PEEA­OMRAJRJOD
POEM FLOLOLOLLOOLLLOLLL
H AHAHJAHJAH AHJHA MOOOOOOoo

WE"RE ALLL GONNANA HDFHAFHDADHFADHFAHFAHDFHAf
a
hfdah
f
hdfah
af



FALLLING FALINGINFLINGINFNd

JAKDJAFWWHYHYHYHYHYHYHYYHW

WHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAH­AHAHAHHAHA

WHAAAAAAAA

OH NO OH NO AOHJAFGIJADOJFODJFOADJFA
FNKADFDKAJFNADKDnJFDAsjkfanf

YOURE GODNFAK:FJKAJFDAKFJAKFJAKFJAJLFJFALjAFLADLF

LIES LIES LIES LIES!!!

wisht that a sound could represent something other than a friction, a vibraton,


sometiems the keys click

and sometimes they entertain lifetsyles

how come?

I don't know

in a world where you share everything
is everything possible
or is none possible?
depends on who you ask
but people have their ways of making the decisions
whatever the outcome may be
they like to make their little posts
in a neat little package
posted for the world to take a look at
yeah, thats nice that
trick
and then they expect the masses to follow along
its a fun game and I like it
wherever your soundtrack may be headed
I encourage it
but I
seem to have heard one piece of advice
that was heard
in a dormatory room
I read it in a philosophy book
to find your citadel
away from everyone
where you can be your own ruler
and I think that I have that engrained
in my system

and boy
does it allow me
to see things
differently
from a calm place
things are real nice
from the place of jack johnson strums
on a beach somewhere
you remove yourself from it
and it goes like that
for a little while
and I’ll take it on, and I’ll continue like
that

I’m filled with pause with pleasure with sigh, sigh sigh, knowing

maybe nothing that will ever be cared about
maybe one little sliver somewhere that was created accidentally

misspelled misspellings

and the man said
in the deepest of voices
in the deepest of dismay
he asked me to keep looking for something
you haven’t found it quite yet, kid
but keep looking
its one hell of a
ride

of everyday

isn't so bad

I don't really get bored
life is limitlessly fascinating

and there is always something to think about

and I read poetry on the trains
and sigh eternally
and theres a girl
who cares about me

I've got my whole life ahead of me

I feel weighed down by people telling me what to do
sometimes
but I guess I should take it as a sign of flattery
they see themselves in me

so I'll sing a few more of my set
(I have a set now, and it develops more each day)

and I feel alright
and alright
is alright
by
me

Boymanthing, a silly and serious melody

from vanity to wisdom, one asks the question, are they one in the same thing?

punishment?  cruelty?  are they necessary?

a boy learning to walk on the stage, in front of everyone, that is where he belongs

but doesn’t know how to get there, the distance, so far away

but in his recent history.

he learns to let go of the notion that he needs to sell his soul for beauty

and begins to live his life, fully

norstram apetite

dratatraacpampioliate illiter cy bragnainst fo preostate languastitside

archetypes by dreemons of mesi=sled beandeits, only seraches for their own tai;s wold tofind the atht rocks andthe s

levers spat tooo fast in theo thsky

branched and bargained like marhadded dag a like ddraggg

hampbolted by the porforalaimalice hoork a jork a  fork founded for dailaiin dapper mapper AMDHAFHD HATYTEr
s
AMTER ATAJHATERRES

MAD HAETATERES
JAKECKAING TO THEIR OWN FECESS

LAIAND AN TORN TAKE YOUR ******* LAGHINGAS FOR A ******* NICTOINE HYRDRAAGTION


GO AHEAD AND WHIELR UNTIL THE FUACKING XOOR TF/inFINALLY SHUTS

sing it in my ear, a little cliche that you know
would make my day much better
coffee and beer, without you here
I'd like to have you here

****

Who am I?  


I can't figure it out, my self changes every day,

****

with me

in my haunted fantasy ;)

frame it all
with me

in my haunted fantasy

lala la la la

*kicks can

I once thought that people were easy to please, I had intact a naivety, but now I see that people are even easier to please, and that my naivety is in fact a wisdom, and that wisdom is weightless, it dismisses everything and accepts love into its heart, and cradles it there, like a bear with its cub, yes, its a sweet thing

I once thought that I wasn’t capable of much anything, and I still think that sometimes, but then I remind myself that there are doers and don’ts, and the doers do while the don’ts talk about what the doers are doin, and thats just a cycle of productivity, and somewhere in the center is an easy rider, a guy on his motorcycle, with his hair blowing in the wind

sometimes it is easier to laugh, and other times, its weeping, its complete falling down the waterfall, sailing on a little leaf , next to rats who eat my body, make commercials for cheeses, they have the hunger in their eyes and their pick their teeth with toothicks, hang back with their bellies full and watch the stars overhead, triumphant and warm, rats, clean as can be, straight out of a disney movie, their coats distinctive from one another, scampering down the way, always looking for realism, jealousy isn’t an issue, envy is motivation.  Ever lasting life.  hellish little rodents, swine, but honest.

can I lick the fabric, the flypaper, and hope that my tounge won’t dissolve?  crushing it with my fist, its something new, and I don’t understand that.  How do things tell stories?  Why do I continue to feel moral, even in the face of the most liberating hell, that speaks true to my rattling bones, what is the string on top of my head that levitates me towards the heavens, forcing me to believe, to give my body to it, to starve for it, to throw it upon gears, singing gospel and hating the lie churning in my gut, why do I repent when I know a closeted sinner is blessed as well

Is easy

for me

I clean the floors

and the dishes

and I give her kisses

When they
Are dancing
Like that
They inspire fun
And the adults
Encourage each other
To dance along
And some do for a second
Then laugh at themselves
We are kids again
Serve the ice cream
Then clean up the mess

but I don't know what

My hunger becomes overwhelming
My pores are sweaty
Thin as a starving dog
Waiting for the hour to be finished
Waiting for the train ride home, the moaning rails, the darkness and advertisements
Waiting for dinner with Ilyse, and how lovely that will be
We will both complain about our days
I will lament the night before
She will forgive me
And then we'll talk about going to the show
Tomorrow
And maybe I'll have a beer
And sit in the living room
And maybe I'll dream of what could be
And what already is
George carline words ringing in my head, there is only past and future
It was a funny joke, but alas
There is a
Here
And it is
forever

content living, not too out of balance
giant sand bags either ends of the balance beam
weight, some sort of a weight, that I remember so well, that I focused on in the theatre, that I sang about and stomped my feet about, and received applause

Some of that energy is gone, and it can never be had back, some of that madness, some of that desire to ******, to die, to set everything on fire

gone now, too much to lose, to content, to full from the last meal, looking forward to more ***, another poem, perhaps

but then, then it was scribbles, it wasn’t even poetry!  It was pure madness, directly from the source, it was brilliant, I thought of myself as brilliant, that’s for **** sure.

and people would ask “what were you writing?” and I don’t remember what I would answer, but I was too embarrassed to say something poignant or ambitious or cool

Content living, when the living room is balanced
Synchronized, the carpet, the flower, the plant next to the couch, everything handy, the beer in the fridge, all fine, fine.  And I have plans to be a teacher, and that also is fine, and I might audition for things, and that is fine too, and Ilyse is beautiful, and I love my mother.

Normal, a normal man

so what is it now?  A wisdom?  probably that, yes

just
tight
and cramped
just, a song
I made one
it was good
where are you?

falls

simple

coffee

tastes

good

Please help me stand ground

please let me know the difference between my enemies and my closest friends

I cannot tell, god, jesus, I, one, take the wheel

I am but human, too human

please

hear a faint whisper
women walk by
and I feel
like a quiet man with
subtle mannerisms
even though I am truly
loud
I am a beast
with a roar, truly
I can let it out, fierce
And then it takes a hundred more years
to write something down worthwhile
and I am willing to wait, that, long

sleepless night
I am at your dispense
teach me something new?  
I’m a reader of your newest book
there’s something that I want to hear
and it’s out there
and the minutes crawl by
and I hear it on the back of a pin wheel
rolling to the other side of an empty room
I’m shouting!  Can you hear me? PAY ATTENTION
I am a commander of notes!  I taught myself to do it
and I show up for work
and sit through it
but it is not this
I want you to sit me on your knee
tell it to me straight
like I’m dealing with death
and everything is meant to aim dead for center
it’s not a riddle, no, not this time
I am at that part of the book where there are two ways
the leaves on the trees are crumbling, and I’m at the dispense of weather
put boots on my feet! I am THE KID
who wears a spiked collar
YES
prepare me for what I should expect next
and I’ll listen
sleepless night

is to **** a joke

but death can be funny

why?

I thank God
for the food tonight
the food tastes good
and I am good
I will be okay
because the food is there
the love is in my bed
and that is that

brewed like a hipster

___JAAYYADEEEDDD

helped like a vocalized yelper, pinched in the **** and ran all four blocks to the next bit,

DURMAT SOIHT

drowned is silent silent tsoylent slentslent solylent


BREEEK NNN KEEEYPPP

and devoured bt cannbais craviigs, cars and cars and thea cars,  imagine still life, so provoked and taking care of characatures and dreaming ion the next lie

Orient lrlent
orient orient


the next balcony,

the next symphony,
how could the words work and how could they be?  this tragic knowing/unknowing

Swing sigh swish okay

tragic and lost in the arts of sway and seduction,

drowned in times fear for onion front sdospaly or affection
could thus carry on?  this stream?  is it agony?

nb ts yearining, its calling can’t you see?


your eyes can see

HMSTr

I’m doing  it on purpose
how does a person sound rational im person
but completely insane on paper
I’ve managed to pull it off

one more, one more menacing figure

poetic or of that of fury

working or of that of majesty, of something higher up that of which I have no doing

of sleeping or of waking, looking up at the jungle and wondering where the water is coming from

The things add up in my day to make me feel
Repugnant, lousy, unable to exist around myself
I reach for whatever I can get my hands on
There's a hum to the subway that makes you feel at home after awhile
And I don't know what it is, but I still feel destiny calling me from years away
Something is beckoning towards me
And I'd like to reach out my hand and ****** it
And thus far, that has slipped through my fingertips
But I can try to forgive myself
And just continue on living
Breathing
Just like I've always
Done

every once in awhile
something good comes out
I guess it takes
a few hundred
to do
that

Wish that I had a better napkin to wipe up this stain

As I wish that the tv would just take up the entire room, like a vaccum cloud


I will ride, with that each sound will forge deeper into my canal, and just leave me with nothing but leather threads and my jeans

Let me take a whiff of that apple, a tackle at this pear

Let my mind perish hahahah a

I want to donate a list to the obsidian preservation society

And in their name serve casserole for ppotiential donation


Donate thousands to make better beds


And millions for safer water

Yes I swear

Yes I sear