i'm just as amazed
watching pieces of me fall in place
as i am watching them fall away.

"come let's
watch
the
rain
as
it's
falling
down..."

I am thinking
that i want out

My strive is dying--
I'm sorry to say
I see it so alive in you
All around me
With your eyes like a tiger
With your rhythm like a panther
Stalking its sacred prey
In the jungle church jazz atonal life song

There's no rhyme or reason
We stay together, we fall apart
I am so sorry
I'm sorry that my strive is dying
And I'm not doing the things anymore
To keep it alive.

What talent belies the aging boy?
Fost'ring there an ancient flame
Once was used to get him here
Now he flickers with his shame.

Tearing there upon his skin
Between victors and those whisked away,
He is peeling off the edge--
And can you see it in his eyes?

I've never been such a rose morose
I've never sang so low as this
These days
I wear my heart
On my stuttering wrist

No I don't cut anymore
I have other ways to bide my time...
Where the blood comes from is pretty pure
But where it goes is such a crime!

do you have the guts
do you have the guts
do you have the guts to be your own salvation?

do you have the time
do you have the time
do you have the time to be your own salvation?

hanging' round by the dead end sign
striking our cigarettes
and dancing on the dead tracks

we've been parked up in this
culdesac
for waaay too long.

do i have the guts,
do i have the time
do i have the mind to do anything else?

you know judgy *******
never mattered to me
i think my halo's running low on battery

but hey if i'm alive
then i might as well live--

do you have the guts
do you have the guts
do you have the guts to be your own salvation?

do you have the time
do you have the time
do you have the time to be your own salvation?

i got a little time
for some quiet meditation
i been writing up a plan
i'm gonna be my own salvation

you know what people say
never mattered to me
so i'm charging up my batteries

because hey if i'm alive
then i might as well live

do you have the guts
do you have the guts
do you have the guts to be your own salvation?

do you have the time
do you have the time
do you have the time to be your own salvation?

do have the guts?
or are you nucking futs?
do you have the time?
or are you too sublime?

maybe it was hard for god to say it was good--
maybe that was just a silly, random new word he made up
"good," he said
"that's what i'll call it."

--and perhaps he chuckles--

"like me,
but different."

maybe he had to stop kurt from singing
all in all is all we are
all in all is all we are...
just so he could forgive himself for an eternity or two
just so there'd be more than one long apology.

i see fear dancing like a fire on his mind
watching from a distance,
tortured nerve endings spit and seize
the field is burning
his limbs are flailing
smoke fills up his lungs

i know where that field is,
closer to here than i care to mention--
i have heard that it is dangerous;
i am not going there.

i'm watching him burn now--
and i do,
i feel sorry for him.

i've spent my life lolling about,
taking easy roads to pastel-colored beds
tangling limbs,
rubbing skin with the seasons.

i've slurped at the nectar of writhing ****
with the fullness of the night sky behind me

and as she swooned,

i felt the moon watch my ignorant head,
felt the moon fill with suspense as i rejected the sun:

i've poured water all over the papier-mâché goddess
and slept on top of soggy lumps
in a cement box,
an idiot vandal.

and i thought about life.
and i told you about my thoughts.

so i stay moored and safe, mom & dad
i stay
deep beneath the waves,
scrubbing months of crud from the decks.

and the moon is heading for the churning sea
and the fragile cradle of my dreams is going down...

i'm thinking it is time
to sew a new season--
and turn the rest green
with unrivaled verdance.

so i turn to the ***** noctis
and start gently

I don't get a rise,
Expressing drops of the chasm
They bead up inside us all
Sometimes watching one retching
These black bubbles
Will make us cry a couple more
And I think they collect in our heads
And time pushes them out one way or another,
With me or without me! Ha, with or without you, too.

What I'm saying is,
I dont get a rise out of making you do that,
Or maybe I do sometimes but I know it's sick.

Where does that kind of thing get a person anyway?

But no, for the most part I don't
Because it stunts the growth of anything good--
Gives me pause that you, too
Have to travel through this tube.

This radio static is like a thousand tiny kisses on my ear drums,
A memory is just a tool,
A romance is a dream come true
And I am allowed to eat today.

the garden stares at me with grey-brown eyes,
deprived,
weakly it envies the neighbor's yards,
unwatered,
thirsty,
looking for love.

a hot vent of rage shoots up in my mind
i pour acid on the garden,
choking out its chance to grow.

there, i said smiling an evil smile
i killed some time

and i turned my back on the day
which had a dagger in its back

I don't want to get another job
I dont want
To be part of the machine

I'll just walk out again

You & I

A rolling of the eyes,
A rolling of the eyes.

We pass on in different ways,
Going down different streets
And making different marks
On different worlds.

Our skin made symphonies but our guts reacted
Constricted, bashed and bruised inside

You and I
Are rolling our eyes
Just looking for the best chance
To get inside.

There is a weak genesis that strings me along each day,
I am looking for the strong one
That will break the morning's ice with exercise
That will learn about good investments and bad ones
And give to the self the gift of renaissance,
It is free,
Oh why are you even holding back?
You might be a little nervous, but

Here is where I cringe in the cradle,
Here are all the creatures fornicating on my back,
Black figurines working black to black
In this vignette I pray for a sudden urge to stay
To steady a vessel
Towards better days

The midnight shoreline makes a ****** edge in my mind
That black world of fornication is my clothing,
My nothing,
To her I am a black figurine
I spin stories in the night
Dark magic sparks from my fingers
Still alive with youth and vigor

I stare into the wall
Solid, banal
And I hope I get bored of it
Soon

go off in to the world and die away from me
i don't care what happens to you after this.

i hope a drunk driver strikes me hard
i hope a sharp piece of steel cuts this mess right off my hands
i hope it's clean and fast
i don't want to be here anymore
i am so sick of your *******.

the glow of an eye
is proportional to how strongly
she distracts you from life's *******

i've two seared in my mind...
but **** all the (evolutionary) scientists
they pile on fodder for an empty feeling i have.

i am in the colors between the colors
luciferian bubbles spring from me
yes
i am effervescent in space
i am more than whole
i am a gathering of bowed hues

leck mich im arsch is playing in the background
i don't give a **** what you think about me
everything
is gonna be alright

the paint ripples over the canvas,
understanding collects in the eye
and the orchestra's cadence ignites your blood
the wood of the brush,
the pulp of the paper,
the grit of the effort.

i've always wanted to throw a party exactly like the music video for Le Disko by Shiny Toy Guns

older boys can fade to a brown-gray if they let themselves,
soaking in the daily rays as they come along
collapsing into comfy couches

honey don't think i wouldn't if i could
i'm pressing right up against the glass in my mind
i feel like a crazy person,
just straining to fit in

and you know where we stay young,
it's the same place where we sleep
but you've got your doubts about me
until i have more money
and something to do after.

ensuring the memories were tightly braided,
i let them sink into the sand of my mind--

Deep inside, i'll know the color and the sound
but Cerebrus only wants to breathe a better Now

no hippocampal fire will stir me to a conflagration--
but they will come to swell my guts
and lean their heavy stones on my pen!

their heaviness infects the ink
and presses down the paper

so sink deeper into my veins,
you crazy totem-knot
shapes and scents,
places and songs,

Faces--

away from my nervous fingers
whose ceaseless twisting frays the cord.

you're better at rest and inside,
and stick to your tragic clashes of color.
or will i forget i'm a villain?
and weave new reds and blues
into this sad, sad story...? No,
i'll come loose to you
like i should
like you're saying,
this
is how it was always meant to be.

the last hit lingers

at night i wonder about wandering constellations
how they move so slowly about the sky
and how it feels when they make love

i'm underneath it all,
above it all,
and she's on top of me
and we're rolling around
in this holy bed
and it feels amazing

out here,
under the stars

and the last hit resonates on my mind,
'cause she was so sweet
but i just didn't have the time.

oh ****!
the sprinklaz

my stupid eyes
see a hopeful youth
and healthy vigor
when they project their feelings into the mirror.=,

sometimes it seems like my brain mush slips out of the corner of my mouth
a senseless jumbled stream of conscience
with no real meaning behind it
false feelings come out,
i just spit nervous impulse at the keyboard,
it's been that way for a while now
in this moment i'm hoping that i stop

haha

Can we talk about
funny things

things we put in mason jars
left to rest
on our bedside tables,

and

never judge a guy by the state of his eyeliner,
he's just getting himself together still,

daydreams about squirrels and prospective film productions,

headsplitting laughter with devil dicked eyes,

we're just devil dicked guys,

my Grandma and I.

i'd like to apologize to anything i've ever said i loved,
for the more horrid form of suicide which i have committed,
and am committing right this very moment,
and that is letting yourself go.

now my love means something strange
and for each diluting moment it spends in purgatory,
it feels more half-assed.

can you tell when we're chilling and smoking after the party,
and my eyes stay furrowed the whole time,
never rising to a round and even conclusion?
i think god's got me on a string
and it's attached right between my eyes,
i'm always worried about something
trying not too list too hard to the side
trying to engaging,
fun.

i'll do better next time.

can't you tell by my eyes?
i want you.
let everything else fall aside,
let me inside you.

beating heart,
blinking eyes
breathing lungs,
gushing blood.

all out on the kitchen table,
ready for a meal.

Whatever color Penelope's dress is
today--
Life is just as absurd as high fashion.
She rises, she rises, she rises up your spine
Like a spider
Because we like what we like for good reasons
But we all know that's empty
Well, not really empty but it's just what you are,
So there is that, whatever that is.

So it gives you this suspenseful feeling, you know,
Almost like a spider creeping.

Because we know it's empty.

Or, whatever.

All four of our hands evoke pathos.
All four of these walls are more easily seen in the morning,
Except the day tears leaked from my eyes.

But I didn't feel human,
At least not natural.

You didn't gently go like I wanted,
I made you give that baby tooth the last wrench it needed and now my brain feels all better baby,
No heart to argue against,
Full steel going off into the night.

And then we'll see smart-sounding, ambiguous lines resolve
One way or the other,
I suppose.

And it's not that you did anything
Wrong,
But exactly the opposite
That hurts, love.

What do you think she'd do?

Just cry. Just cry and cry and cry.

And does that bother you?

...yes. Yes, it does

But why did you hesitate when you answered?

Because people feel pain and they cry. It's what happens when they feel they've lost something terrible. But I guess I've just come to question the importance of anything at all over the course of my life. I mean, why does any of this matter? Why do tears matter? Each one of us is just a node of selfish energy. We don't do anything! We just live and die, live and die.

.

No, I don't,
No, I can't
Stop stop stop
Stop stop stop

Something that you know is good,
But the layers peeled away
Stripped down to her very naked purity
She bears herself,
Infinite,
Reflexive,
Eternally widowed and made to re-marry
She breaks you down
She makes you a man

She ruins you

lol why did i say **** all of you

cup of tea, extra honey
another cigarette
bitter, languid days

gonna get a new job

Wrought iron holds back the worst things
As I pass on by
Wrought iron that pierced the sky
And it rains
Rains down on everyone

These twisted wraiths beleaguer me
But they're held to their ends
By some fever living in me

And I pass on by.

It's autumn now.

The hearth roars on,
So wholesome meet each fertile dawn
The soil's gone to sickled crops
But in each day she's fertile, still.

So plant your seeds and sew your might
And keep the withers out of sight!
We'll work for strong and solid yields
Each day we'll go and reap the fields.

All night long
The water will swell up
Around me
Facing the deep stelliferous cave

And sometimes
It will touch the very top
Of the black night sky
And the caves
Facing each other
Will make an echo,
And I will feel like dying.

I'll wait out the night for the water to recede

...

want a cigarette?

thank you nick

maybe what hurts the most is that you can't blame anyone when they recede--
the typical, "look, i don't know, but it's got nothing to do with me!"

i have friends encouraging me but i don't know if they realize what they're supporting
now this is my time to crave dissipation.

have you ever sidled your way
into a low enough position
that the universe actually seems to strongly suggest that you **** yourself,
where you're so miserable that it'd hardly surprise the people around you if you did it?

that's where i am right now
but i'm eating a chicken cutlet sandwich

don't **** me please

-shrug and smile-

okay

I've got sick religion,
A black week of your absence.
My guess is you'll plant something there
Where the soil is still good and fertile
But I swear I'm never going back.

College stairs is my blonde heroine
Frizzy hair was the angel I couldn't sleep next to,
I could lay in the November Rain til I died
Dressed nice but I never got my engine running
On fuel I bought myself.

Talent died before shooting from my fingers
I remember an episode of Journey to the Microcosmos
Watching this one little organism try so hard to hold it together....
and then it fell apart.

I watched the wind pull gossamer threads apart.
Something deep inside me shifted uncomfortably,
But for the most part I just stood and stared.

I don't want her hair ******* up my mornings
I don't want her kindness to make me sweat anymore
I wish I could pull all your memories of me
From your mind
On a string

The wind blows seeds and leaves
And yeasts and plastic shopping bags...
What winds will I dance with before it's all over?
A different wind from lovers lost--
But for the most part I just stood and stared.

someone tell her she's pretty
because she doesn't think she's pretty--
a linguistic sin deep enough to cause lacerations,
so stop tearing angel skin.

but my inert heart has been far from heaven
for some happenstance kiss to take
and yours was searching for a place
to plant a garden,
well i made it hard to.

and you got red in the face
when the squash came up blighted
when the weeds conspired to strangle the hydrangeas to death
when i sold strawberries the insects
and i was inside, just scrolling on my phone

and when i told you i was quitting
you turned over the turnips
dirt was flying everywhere
you're gonna make me regret it

but you should know
all these years i fancied myself i gardener
i think i might be more
of a *******