sounds less threatening that *** and drugs, doesn't it?

but they're the same thing, oh long drag, oh long sigh, oh long winding wheezy world moving by, possess me with your marvelous fun little hauntings, sounds threatening but it is really just a little roller coaster ride, tied to the tops of mountains, bungee jumping, something as ridiculous as that can make a lifetime, and we, just sitting here, seem to be doing, just that

prescriptions are for the educated, for the ones who want to get high at the right times, like the water droplets, again, not cold showers all the time, but at the right times, the precise, times

Love to DO it
love to spit it
love to claw! to master *******
WAGGLE ON TOP OF IT
DO A ****** UP DANCE
THEN A SILLY ONE
boy do I love to taste the trickles of tantalizing treasures treating me nice
I love to swipe swipe swipe with my fingers
I could be a ******* court reporter
with these ****** hands
and does it feel good
to scream
ROAR
RIP
LET GO

I type with the curtain closed

and dabble between scud really and harsh fantasy

driven by past voices, patriarchal and matriarchal, both,


some more muffled and hidden than others,

I write with the curtains just adjacent to one another, teasing sunlight, sneaking sunlight from the countertop, from the storefront


I wish for my sanity, in solitude I wish to not forget myself, or become lost in wild reflection and lose my footing, or self that my vanity turns me handicapped, or so lost in fantasy that I babble and make no sense,

I'm asking the collective, the dieties, I understand I have willpower over this,

coincidence and chance,

rubber bands snap and rotate, hold hair, too

romance me

with your

macaroons

la dee da dee dooo

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

okay, okay okay, got very high

and, yes, very worried about what my parents will do to me

very worried about how things will turn out,

the night was family, and the family was good

I gazed out the window on the drive home and listened to pearl jam

the turrents blasted between the hills, again

yes, I was there, again

Of roots, holding on with bitter taste, digging at the back, the sweaty fabric, the itchy pride, what to do, faith is peculiar and it has no bounds, faith is of stories that we tell, and heroes and villains have too much in common. Of roots, of where I came from, to I need to revisit on my brisk days of pleasant ride? while I'm breathing pure air, does the thought need to enter my head, what was? where will I be going? time, of roots, of long marathon, not sprint

Journey, do our duties

The thing, do a day, cafe

Dying in news but that's okay

I gotta duty to be doin or I'll be busy dying too

**** tootin

Spelling bees suddenly making sense to me

Spell socks backwards while sweating, and then **** your pants

Bahaha I got nothing, anyways let's dance

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

the spigot has run dry, its a desert out here, grimace while you’re trying to make it, trying to ******, the bars are beckoning, madness, out of your control, the smoke around your face, you’re laid out on your back, a defeatist, shackled to the plank, memories stick and then they fade out, wasted, wasted away, and you follow with your hands, you shove them into the dirt, and you try to remake what was given to you,, you put eyes in the little scuplture, but its crooked, and it stands helpless amongst the others, in a display window, where passersby think that it is creepy,

"creepy"!!!!

they say, and that is what you are, combing, combing, chasing down airplanes that departed for the towers, their destination is history, and their timing is a bead in your eye, in time, it halts right before it strikes you, inimaginable quest, one episode, and then, its over

the misplaced animal
scanning the beach
paranoid that the party upstairs
is laughing at him
getting a phone call from his mother
that it is time for dinner
but that it not his plan
he is riding the insane wave
of tricky mystery
and his cloak is a smokescreen
riveting masterpeice, complicated boy
young man
learning the way of the journey
and years later
he will return with his girlfriend
and the feeling will be long gone
and he will try to resurrect it
with her
but it falls short
like a sneeze that never comes
and that will be that
the misplaced animal
is caged

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

there is an unearthly beast, inside of me, longing for you
please let it through

I’ll treat you with decenency
but let me in
let me know
you


finger flick, wise beautiful women understanding the good they see, brightened eyes, relaxed brows, not too much looking around,

men with tattoos hanging at the end of the warf with their shotgun with three shots drinking stale beer and loving the stars

professors grading papers under the moonlight with soft radio on

tired executives allowing the television personalities to understand the frailties of life and take them lightly

young boys interacting with the dirt, with the concrete, with the stairs, with yoyo, with gi-joe- power ranger, less preferences, more timing

taste permiates, taste is, is, is, is, persists, is, is is, persists, supports, taste the side effect ifsupports without conscience, taste taste taste, why preference

ulcen pulsen dorowning dissolving, not above, not dissolving, let if feel let it push let it melt groove and let it go to the ticick gutiarr that is applying and attempting to be real, attempting to say the real message, what is the real message, what kind of ptirkck you trine to pull the bass is suspicious and it wants to help the little guy on its way, there is something approaches in the background, it makes a small sound that is ver y distant bout it begins to come closer, very slowly, with a dinosaur tail

coffeee klonopin bagel ecigarette claming nuturing sunny sunny sunny, more coffee what was it I was thinking?  Didn't use the cream cheese no shower hair pomade and bruhsed teeth rolling stones did I miss something?  Set yet still yearing, stomach full yet still grumbling...

frazzled, what?  body in motion, can't quite find the right, what is that you said?  stumbling all over the house, what to wear, throw something on, throw on leather, to match you little pers-on-ality

write the feathers, whatever it takes, stimulation, the porch, banging my head against the door, WHAT!!! try try try! or don't try at all?  don't look out?  I'd like a few ******* answers,

Signed,
Muskrat

Working on em, definitely held down by some restraint, some anxieties, that keep presenting themselves in my dreams.  Things becoming taller even when I'm feeling good, my loved ones getting lost in the midst of it, soldiers marching

folding themselves over into my state of mind, constant

held to it, sort of touching it, but having a difficult time breathing

filling up my mind, more intricacy, dashing through snow, trying to stay warm

like trying to stay warm in winter in yosemete.  Its rainy and awful outside and I have a few songs to write, yeah, its like one of those days

flattery doesn't seem to affect me the same way it used to, it used to be that flattery could make my week better, but now, I don't crave it in the same way, wish I did because then my life would be easier.

The lowly artist lost, I'm already bored with this one

Today started off with a  laugh
and mozart
and I'll tell you that it was funny, and it lasted the morning
the way she dances to him makes me live inside, sporadic and silly, and between us our youth makes us strong and vibrant
I have no secrets
for a second I wanted to say that I had a few
but the secrets have been
harboured
they don't matter to us anymore
in this particular love song
I sing it in the same tempo
as I always do
and some may search it in the search engine

but I bet that most won't
but that won't stop me from writing you a hundred more
until it fits just right

I'm dancing around stars, boo
I'm dancing in the moonlight

you like that line?
I thought you would

I'll take a break from writing
when the words are no longer coming
I'll shave my face, baby
when its time to become a member of society
but until then, I'll rise at 11:30 am
no shower
and mozart
with you singing along
and all the power in the world

you and me, silly
we're meant to be
meant to be
let me rephrase
I got you under my skin
let me imitate blue eyes for a moment
and may mine turn green
beauty is deep
and we've got each other to thank for that

that he was a black collared catholic

that he knew he was a sinner, and he would be washed away, and go back to sinning again

it made me think about his life

the way he said it, then talked about *******

the way he talked about ******* with love and his wife with love, and his scotch with love

and his faith with love

all perplexing me, going in too many directions, wishing that the anchor would fall somewhere, of sin

many who are good know that they sin
and my grandfather is a good man


but then he also said to me
with so much intensity
that I am a piece of cheese
for the audience
this is the diplomat, who called me the muskrat

and I said,

yes sir, yes sir

and I am so conflicted about that,

because he also said that his greatest regret is that he never tried to become admiral,

and in order to be admiral, one must have courage to stand up to authority, to be of authority, not of soldier, but of master

who is weak?  and who is right?

My Grandfather Said something today

and I'm thinking about it tonight

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

God help those who are dying

Forgive me for things said, I try to be a good person

Understand my frailties, my weaknesses

allow me to learn to let go, without harming anyone

May our similarities keep me humble, and our differences set me free

change what I can, and do not suffer over what I cannot

Please

dawness, dawn, cracking the time, cracking the rules, hearing them again again aagian, once or twice once or twice, to have them implanted on your feet but to still **** them up, to **** them up on purpose....that is the key...

Mystyque, lost in your clutches, beckoning to me, the longing, the everlasting

made lightly of your touch, and smirked it off,
but always found myself back at the foot of the piano, laying it out, far out the dress, the long dress, of mystyque, lay of me, layer of layers, clawing at the absence of time, your jaw dropping exposure, endure, ensure the masses that there isn’t a scene here anymore
butterly love lasting sadness, jiving mystery, beauty, your rival, shock her in the eye, shuck the corns from her toes, a mildew the droplets and form the new ring, sounding the array of fixtures, fingerling crossings, in the middle of a field attempting to shoot a scene, not going as planned, never to be what is expceted, or perhaps never better, a clamor, a vicious madness a stamour, mystyque, your forces know where we all must go, to bold to shy away when the opportunity emerges, as a ballet, as a wedding rehearsal, know your place, your gallant white sondress, your dawning, singing random tunes,

drawn into the dampening doom, drugged out and done, doing what needs to be done, fickle and free with the time, you surely know the direction, you see the deed, which rhyme?  your wellspring, your sinking fixture at the top of the ceiling, dripping off the balcony and onto onlookers, where they keep their deepest lockets, locked up in secrecy, breath in my direction!

go, go go, go go go go , go, need to let it go go go go go go go go, and it feels like a nice, easy thing to do, and it remains a nice, easy thing to do, and you need to see it through through through, ****, oh no, we did a whole chapter, ahead of us, we've written a chapter ahead!! what else is needed to be said?  INDIGO HERE WE GO go go go ahead ahead ahead, ink and ink and ink

AND IN

THE LIGHTEST TOUCH

THE SOFTEST NET

HE LETS IT SINK

when the politician crooned
and made a mistake
today is today
and he goes out this way
he takes a picture with a fictional villain
and pretends he’s a saint

makeshift melodies
working their way through the mansion
of the ******* bunnies
more preoccupied than the rest of us
more
preoccupied

junkyard schoolboys
walking into desert islands
and ******* magical spells
only to come out
horrendous, ugly muggles
useful only for punching tickets
at the next show

juniper berries
crisping up a salad
and making it sweeter to swallow
lunches that are bittersweet
because of the conversation
you couldn’t swallow

evergreen trees
standing the test of time
in the middle of a long
deserted island
evergreen trees
in a deserted island
providing pin cones
for the restless settlers
trying to prepare their dinners

there was the right, sort of intoxication, the right concoction, the morning started with commotion, with worry about this and that, but was resolved really quickly, like a swift kick of a crying cat, I'm ready for a new day, I polished my hair and brushed my teeth, I won't forget where I came from, but ******, cold shower its a new day

Stuck inside
during a New York snowstorm
and the washing machine is humming
and the lady is singing
yeah, yeah, yeah things are
alright
and I'll sit here
and sip my coffee
and slip a klonopin
and I'll be
groovy
not a hippie.
literally, grooving

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.

not heartbreak
not solitude
not hurt
left those things behind

forgiven a few things, others come back in a rush and haunt me
read a few more things, they make me weaker, while they help pass the time
passing the time is one of the best things

developing a gut, a love of food

drinking too much, but romancing just the same, even better

not a character, a person, walks down the street, notices the restaurants, wants to sit at the nicer ones

wants to be a court reporter, a teacher, maybe

sits on the couch and watches sitcoms

cooks pasta, cooks breakfast

tells the iCloud to go away, remind me later

late nights rarer, comfortable with lazy body

grown out the beard, again

not heartbreak
not solitude
not hurt

somebody

so what is boring?  what is normal?  what is comfort?


it’s fine, just fine

and the poetry is fine, too

and reading is easier

my dancing is as if christopher walken and a muskrat


Get your **** on

you are trying every day to live more authentically

I forgive you for the mistakes you make, and I forgive you for showing weaknesses to the people you love

I forgive you for some of the bad things you do.

Life is short, and painful, and you are trying your best

Progress, not perfection


also, one more thing.  Lighten up man, play some stupid music and act  like an idiot, I'm tired of writing poetry, act like a stupid fool then go to sleep

I spoke with a  poet yesterday
(I read poetry at this open brain and I was nervous out of my mind)
and both of us bombed so I went over to him while my girlfriend was talking with some other friends to say hello.  I told him good job even though I didn't really mean it, but I was bad too so I needed some company, anyway we talked about what poetry is and should be, and I got involved in this long pretentious conversation about art.  He asked me what magic is, and I said "Harry Potter" we both laughed.  His other point is that poetry should reveal some kind of truth, and I believed in the complete opposite.  I said poetry should be a way to escape, we laughed at our disagreement and then we drank to that.  That was the end of the conversation, but my point is this,

poems poems poems,
who reads these ****** things anyway?

no dice to roll, got some sort of fiery hand in nowhere vegas land, what, why, women with greyed hairs in jumpsuits and stale cigarettes, no dice to roll no dice to roll, what am i going to do?  whatever tickles my fancy?  Can't seem to stop writing, it feels like some sort of disease, I'm reserved then cautious and not sure what the next thing to churn out is, I am freaked out, humble, and making my way over to the next table, attempting to make some sort of sense, but the atmosphere of the room is nonsense, dressed for some kind of hawaiin getaway, the theme is even less formal, of those who do not consider fashion, where am I headed?  never be aware of the person, what did I mean when I say that?  I don't know what I am talking about sometimes, am I talking to nobody?  can nobody hear me?  I feel so intensely this draw towards

nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing!

YOU IDIOT!!! you're just going in circles, and a part of you wants to believe halloween logic is actually truee

God ******, I don't know what to do with myself

I am the one they can transparency
eyes to the front of his skull
bulging, everlonging
sitting and trying to be cunning
quiet, listening
but emulating, instead
some sort of glowing ember
and people ask
are you okay
and I revolt
in protest
I wish I could wear shades all the time

I wish I could be invisible, sometimes

I had a dream that I had a cover over my face
it was a good dream

and now I sit

with my clothes on

thinking back on embarrassing moments

and I am

ashamed

they call me transparency

body, body body, and body, so aware of body, do squats, I'm a ****, gothic androgynous man, I wake up and my mascara is still on, in my , I love being free.  Guess its off to mortal combat

I am the strangest person I have ever met in my life, take the Sybol of the party and put it in my back pocket ironically, looks and desicions, leading to small laughter, leading to pleasent convorsation, leading to anything where anyone can take a breather, take a calm, carry on, hogs roll by then things roll on, the symbols add up, and the symbol of the party seems of a siren, wailing its sorrow, wailing its empty, the empty cab rides, empty expressions l, and entertainment filled with urmmmph and love and drunk, the atmosphere rising, the lovers wanting to clutch closer, the evening never closing, dance a little bit more!   Loan out an extra!  It's sullen but it's sudden!  The spontenaity is flawless, beating the next pack, beating the next maker, making their mark, beating them like eggs whipped with cilantro, you're gone bro, psssssss its possum


In the street!  Sitar!!!

of wind

chill my sternum

make new friends come, and they make conversation pleasant, please let me be


vibrant

hesitant, chills, chilly, distant voices, calling

wild, wild, ways, of their habits, their songs, vibrato

core gutteral gashes at the spasm, reaching for a bit of relaxation, reaching for a bit of calm, perhaps of acceptance

people

nothing but with an added extra something, life is the whipping cream

flakey

but delicious


blown over a thousand times, over again, again

wanting, yearning, looking for answers, built up an array of

prejudice

devoid of feeling, over time, and craving new things

and days go by

COME HOME, COME HOME!!!
LETS MAKE THIS THIS THIS

You're too far away, bring it back
I a scattered little tom waits boy, with my goofy hat, and I can't sit straight!  call call  call!!

OHH boy, I'm in trouble,

I'm such a little SPAZZZZZ OH NO ITS ALL COMING BACK, CIGARS AND **** A DRAGGGGG AFARRRRRRRR

PIRATE LOGIC, HALLOWEEN LOGIC EATING UP MY BRAIN

BANGING ON THE TABLE

don't let your body, don't let it be someplace where I can't see

I'd like to protect, and yet my being is so sensitive to you

a selfish longing, of possession, of unhealthy aggressive intense lust, of covered, cover cover cover

bounce back and I'm useless, a rag, hiding with eyes wide open, facing towards the sun, the rays break through my shades, something I'll never know, be able to face, I am a dream, a fantasy, drawn with long legs, lost over extending nature

protect me, don't falsify me, deceive me,

to love the world and to know that love makes mistakes, love is the soup, and the alphabet doesn't emerge correctly, soggy

fragile, and luke warm, blood temperature, curdling, madness

toss it in the microwave

or walk away

burst!  burst out, flame!!

almost there, came, came to

and the world stays still, and the people out the window,

go about their business while I give in to what I see fit

and my body is fit

and the mind is of acceptance

what many would have done I do, glazing the surface with my ski, freer than the notes from the truck, the ice cream

oh rupture, rally and cry, do as you like, wear it as a a sash and remember or forget, put in your bag and remember a few days later, gaze again, and again, and another thought enters,

rupture, relentlesslessly, and go out that way, to delay dying or to sustain living, oh, one in the same, oh the irony in our ways, the moments of hysteria, taking over the senses!  charm and poise, laughter, the cure

Oh sweet nothing
Set to the skies overhead
A rebel with a song playing, the hips moving
Hurry to get it all down, but right now there's no immediate threat, so
Ring a bell and make the kids across the street forget their skateboard woes for awhile, and I'll sit here ***** with flip flops on my feet
The traffic rolling by every five minutes
The shining leaves
Oh sweet nothing, you're being ****** good to me

radioahead is on now and now its going what theeeeeeeee
ooho noi ** oh boh oh nho  hnoh ooh oh nhoo
whrejhrhehrehrherhehrehrhehre
whwhrahhwerhehrheh
worafdhajrd­jfldfjadjfkadjkja

YEAHHHHHH


UGHHHHH

SECOND COMINNG SEACOND COMING SECOND COMING

no no no no no no no

I had a revelation on the train
GOD has revealed himself
he hides behind flirtation with death
oh he hides
and the music
keeps going
and I have nothing
but the vibrancy of youth golden locked golden key that turns but I am a clumsy troll on top of a mountain, clumsy troll on top of the mountain wearing a frowny face, frowny face

and he drops his giant club in the ground
to sob and cry
because he couldn't get
his soup and wine
oh no
NFJNFODIJFAJDOJFAIDFJAIDJFAJDaf
dfaDOfjafjdf
a
fdjf
adjjf
adjf
j­jaf
dfjafaj
adfa


AFFJAFFAHHHAHHAHHAHHAHHAHAHAaaAHEe
r

herh
heR­RHEHRW WEEEE GOOOOO

lets go goleto glkegoetleeoaerj
doa
fj
dlfja
lfdjk;
fja
k;jf
dfja
df
j
af
aAHNND­ONEEE EODNEEE GONEEE ALLLLL

SPOILED

HES" wearbing a frowny face he's wearing a frowny face
he's crying because he's left to the mountain
in this video game world
press b
press b
press b
press b
press b
press b

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

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

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