Who are you impressing?
It makes sense that you should be average
If your theories really hold up.

Self-defeating...
We have to work backwards
But where does it get us?
We just embarass ourselves

And how did you manage to be embarrassed all by yourself?

Then I hobble to the placid lake of my soul
And cast forth prodding eyes

Are you really silent and void of judgment?

Are these murmurings really just illness?

When we come forth from nothing, illusion is no comfort in the face of howling demons

No solace as we're torn from our bodies and any sense of sanctuary

I want myself to know I'm not wrong,
That it comes on automatic,
That we can't escape the fire but are not a mistake
Just because there's no option but suffering and death.

I want myself to know and forget
Be proud and be humbled
When security fails
I won't be alright but I'll be... I'll be...

The world is whooshing and sort of sludging by
And people are the streets of consciousness
And I am just an eye in a city, spying on itself

And there is this little box that changes colors,
And I chase that box around
Pull it up, put it down.

It is a new part of my old body,
An expression of the species I am.

Classical objects exist, quantized in suspension
All seems apart from what it once was
The blood has spilled over yet another tier into a stranger world,
And I am made to love it

I have forgotten who i am,
And in the midst of my anxious preoccupation my worst fears have been elected leader
With real hope sitting in my treasured gut like a stone
In a world apart from my solemnly knowing mind

Her skeleton was never a birdcage,
But between her legs there is a flower
For all the hummingbirds
Or just one
However she prefers things.

Stop banging on the walls, there are none;
Don't walk off the edge of the world-- I love you.

Hacking apart,
Beating to a ****** pulp,
Leave that part intact,
Not sure what I'm saying,
Hack it apart,
Beat it to mush,
That makes no sense
I only know where I'm from
I don't know what to say,
I cringe at the person I am

Before all I can do is watch you,
Let your love stream over my hands
Let me believe that I am doing the work
No, let me do it.

Before I slip into dissociation--
Before I lose this to gross depersonalization,
Let our child romp in the pastures we'll call Yesterday

And when all I can do is watch you...
When I realize that not even that will do a thing for us,
Let me go!

I won't pose and say I'm returning
Or pretend to be the last drop of water in a plastic bottle--

Just like I've always been.

Dawn is yawning,
Its yellow is mellow
You're the chartered martyr.

Whatever.

Time's plot is plodding,
Your heart is nodding
Off into a wakeful slumber.

Whatever.

Then,
Out of the blue
The vein you're in dilates
Your Icarus skyscrapes
The chemicals swim
And the ocean
Is awash
With color.

Whatever, whatever.

Whatever. Whatever.

Whatever, whatever
Whatever whatever.

little red rocks from the garden
stick to his feet

not much of a poet
when he's drunk
get this feeling out of my head
when he's drunk

he just wants to be
a piece of the atmosphere

babe--
tell me i can get there if i work hard enough
i used to climb mountains,
but now i *** in cups
i work so hard to make ends meet
and i can be so pathetic
but i know that i could die,
and i feel so incomplete.

this one is not extraordinary
but i wrote it down for you
maybe someone feeling trapped like me
will find it and be moved
if i die before i reach the stars
just know i didn't stop
day in and out, i worked so hard
that's where i want to be.

sometimes you're just a tiny spark
in a world that's wet and cold
you're dreaming of a fire
you just know it could take hold

you dream of it by night and hope
against all odds you'll see
the fire you already are
believe, believe, believe

Radiant, she's radiant
She lavishes the vision
Exuding something more
Than all the sunlight she is draped in.

The sun is dripping off her,
She is saturated through
With light
And through again
With her own, special kind of light.

Deep within the wellspring of her heart,
There, something gushes
Rich and so imbued
With all the colors of her love.

I have known true radiance
Who does know how to hide--
But just how well she does it
Is for her to decide.

Bizarre how time rolled up into a pulsing sac of flesh,
Fate's knocking at the empty sky for an explanation and finds itself graced neatly there,
I am just a weird knot of time
Go for it
The buzzing everything tells me...
Will this to happen on your sliding breath.

And my breath, it slides
Like a small child learning how to ice skate
Soon I will be twenty-five
I'm getting a feel for this and I'm working on the finer points...
It is taking some time.

I watch you flit around,
Flirt around with different forms
It is neither here nor there,
This whole affair
But you do lay claim to some import

These are the things I absorb
And whether they live or die there,
Well i guess it's neither here nor there
But I'd sure like to fly east
Until I melt into the sun
And drip drop my love onto the world like a soothing nectar.

Pretty girls,
Rent money,
Used cars and cash for gas,

Rainbows,
Beautiful sunsets,
All kinds of advice for hard times

Long walks on the Gulf coast,
Alcoholic drinks.

Medications,
Days slept in,
Job opportunities and free homecooked meals

Kind extensions from underappreciated friends,
Candy.

Car repairs and music equipment,
Swallowed grief and county jail visits

Everything

Seems to collapse

At the center

Of this boy's heart.

slide past me
like the moon
that missed my tongue

like the knife
that slits my life

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

Seeing red in our jagged edges
Throbbing maroons in our Moloch's slumber
I am in defiance

True charity pollutes this sorted wasteland
This is not what I want
I am in rebellion

"Strain to say you're sated,
Turn the day around with a smile!"
Yes but I
Heard my heart is hated
Need to bleed through to the other side.

Oh, these regrets of mine...
They can't last forever
I'm carving out things that would have to be.

She wanted love--
Love is a hug
From my sharp and shining teeth.

We all go around with such infinite worth,
But in liters of blood.

Necks exposed,
Bag of guts,
Heads afloat
Bones that crutch
...Backs that break
Skins that touch
Nothing matters,
Very much.

And it feels like everything
To each one of us.

Duck your mood,
That's a joke.
Make me smooth
When I choke
Unless I start
Choking you
Then I'm in need
Of a room.

But let's see if we can hold this thing up.
Blood and guts:
Do we have enough?

hahahahahahahahahahaahahhahahahahahhaahhahaha i am not here

sear this chemical into skin
the mask of death lets life begin
it's never really here at all
and never gone, so fear that fall

but push the spear beyond the flesh
what's gushing there?
you'd never guess!
a sea, a sea, a sea of blood

And all its fins and wings are good.

so anoint my head with viscous oil
suspended there, i'll toil slow
and sip at syrup atmosphere
so bittersweet my sugared fear

i'll count the blades of grass backyard
the sun will set--
we won't get far.

You were smooth like river rocks,
And time made you hard

Under my skin and all around me
The charm
Of your skeleton

I lived to drop you on my tongue
And hold you in my mouth

...

Traveling now, along the stretching slopes of your body
My body jerks around the bends

With want of skin like river rocks
A moment to defend.

shifting blue
with purple flirtations
the human is found
sifting through

drifting sounds
and ****** expressions
cast out
past the navy

rolled out like a blanket
laced with death's fine dust
stars to look on,

while two periwinkle boats on the lightblue gloat

stars to trust

making them awkward,

AS MY EYES LOOK ON

making them float

doesn't the world ever drive you crazy?
persistent, shifting blue

bodhicitta drags on a cigarette
bodhicitta sits slumped over in a bar corner and ****** on itself
bodhicitta forgot how to lie,
but there is still hope.

turn my dreams inside out before my eyes
puncture me and tell me it's not so easy
throw sand in my gears and leave me wondering
what is wrong with the world?

splintered open, i remembered
because the sun's river was broken there
my ideals melted and left disfigured
it was my job to provide form.

tell
me
the
whole
truth

and i'll try
to echo you

we conspire at night
how to divide the remains
i can feel it, i
wake up
and each day holds off just a little more

without a substance to rely on
i'm a ghost.

without a ***** to give my lust to,
i'm a ghost.

without a pride to give my bride to,
i'm a ghost.

whether holy or unsacred
if you take it all away
i'm just a ghost

if you simplify the problem
i'm a ghost.

if you look at me too closely
i'm a ghost

if you thought i was a human
you should know

i'm a ghost
i'm a ghost.

i'm a ghost.

grave matter girl-friends,
gut twisting houses,
premature guitar smashing,
magnetic traffic,
screaming screaming screaming,
back tensing cameras,
miraged judgments,
elusive, true judgments
sick projections of my insides on the outside world
stuck in the back of my eye.

all monsters bubbling in and out of my only body
strange things my mind becomes
before it finally evaporates

things that beg to be slain.
ventured upon, they fold under my fatal grandeur
and become minions of my higher self

Sorrow thickens the atmosphere of my bedroom
I move slower these days.

Sixteen is on the other side of this wall
That world is so much brighter
There were butterflies and things
Imagination followed me everywhere
Because I was going to be something

Now everything is darker,
Things are less saturated with joy
Hard people everywhere look down on me
They got bigger, they gave me bruises
I wince
There is a deep **** in my head

My hero gained some experience...
He is quite the character.
But he doesn't move so often
The battlefield is in a thick haze.

i have stained my skin
it's rosy red
collecting slow, the pool of blood
come dip your proboscis in

but save a little,
just for me
so i can ******* morning tea
so i can dance to one more song
so i can say i love you wrong

sarcos, sarcos
come and play

but don't you ever break a bone

Stretcher of horizons,
Hear my hollowed call
Scoff at the notion your hands are mine,
That these hands are mine
And how many hands is the horizon wide?

As I lift my eyes to see
Another one lays down their head to sleep
As I drink the plastics down
The plastic fills the sea
Plastic, which would make sense.
And as one of my cells undergoes apoptosis
An innocent soul is deceased.

But convenient, how convenient for you
That even though I know what apoptosis is--
A rare piece of knowledge to find in some random person 's repertoire
That i would not be afforded some kind of great prize for my knowledge,
That i should have to live as I do,
Small and appreciated in ways that wrinkle my nose
As the other half of me cringes and admonishes not to complain too much
Lest we forget the vibrant tones the virtuoso singer of reality played within our cortex just today.

And how strange it is, that even if I were afforded some great prize,
Well what is the danger in that?
Are we scared that it would not be enough
To ward off the suffering?
How many hoarded memories can we pile up before they collapse in on themselves,
Causing the faerie guardians of the Earth to lose their minds in a frenzied panic,
Causing all the ghosts of the dead to bemoan the futility of my private existence,
Rupturing Spirit itself, which howls like a lost wind at the edges of the universe,
Spiraling out of control and so far from the warmth of life,
Forced to be a stranger to itself in the grand scheme of nothingness,
To which it can tell it is intrinsically linked?

How many memories?

Well, as it turns out,
We got quite a lot,
But they're not all good.

And many of them are sort of just alright.

It's almost like we were rendering something grandiose
But bit off more than we could chew,
And our computer crashed two-thirds of the way through
And so much of what we intended to be rendered was corrupted,
Like I was misused and abused.

But by who? As I waste my time,
Thinking it a feat?

Is there anyone else to take the blame but myself?

For all the world's sins!? No, surely not, are you insane!
your sins, your sins, my child
You say,
Are all I ask you to atone for.

And even that is just a matter of perspective,
Maybe you believe in science.
But science just means knowledge and at this point I think you understand.

Don't put yourself on a pedestal,
Or inadvertently dream up a pedestal and find yourself atop it,
Get blamed for that,
And tear yourself down.

Now it's falling apart again.

We're only in this for the rotation.
Stand ready for automatic accusations,
Yes you made excuses yes they will jump out of your mouth.

Maybe they will never come,
Maybe it was just the feeling they would.

Automatic, all of it,
Can't take the pain away.
Why must we do this to ourselves?
No, we aren't, it's some other party some outside force
The universe
No it's not me
Not me
Not me

there is a cage around Lansdale
with a hole in the roof

orange street lights
make sloppy kisses with the muggy summer air

moths flutter,
and it smells like wet trees.

how many empty slabs of concrete
like crooked teeth all along the road
will i have to traverse
before i'm out
before i'm able to deploy my wings?

I named you Pluto
You seem as far
My favorite T shirt
Glows in the dark,
Exclaims to Bring you Back!
I think they meant the planet
(Stuck on that)

If I dosed myself with poison, just
To know the joy of love and trust
I'd surely fall in love with Lust
And I'd know where true love came from, dear.

And there's nothing quite so dear as you...
Because your light was pure, a Wild truth
And that turned me to the mirror
Which I shattered out of Fear.

And that leaves me with no choice but to base so much my adult life
Off of the things I learned when you were in these eyes
And you were so **** beautiful, acting out your part
At every scene a crown for art

So Bring Back Pluto!
If you can
Give El to Dis and good Shetan.
And turn each moment on its head
And turn my dreams to life,
Instead

BRING BACK PLUTO!
his black T shirt blazons for the nether,
or is it heaven?

...the letters are glow in the dark.

He walks down the sunset street
smoking a sad cigarette. but really
he is not that sad. because he knows

he thinks, i need to get a job soon.
i wonder where i'll be working next.
i hope one day they flock to the music coming from me,
that would be so rad.
i'm nothing like my mom and dad.
but i'm not such pressing matter to the world, only to me
everywhere men best me
at one thing or another, keep a humble thing going.
they don't understand why i acted out
or where it came from, and there's really no need for them to,
one day some people will.

He thinks it's sad, that cigarette
We don't enfold without violence, but we do enfold
so perfectly. He is really quite intelligent.
He does and doesn't mind that you might suppose
him stupid, or this or that, which he isn't
by the way he looks and talks.

He knows he takes vain pride in being
pretty good looking and knowing about
lots and lots of different things.

That's okay, he loves the word smart.
Everyone is so smart, okay, God is so smart he thinks,
And that seems to just negate the iniquity of "IQ"
That segregates more elitist and more jealous types.

He is 22 now and clinging to his youth
(like his skinny jeans cling to his legs)
But this, he supposes, is maybe not so bad
So long as he takes care of everything he needs to.
On trivial matters right and wrong have faded from his mind,
His critics are shades of gray as is he,
But this is certainly connected to the more dire matters,
which, he thinks, rotate just as dizzyingly.

But that is why things die. Smart. Art.
That must be my connection to Unity,
It was no lie that I did feel this way and do these things
For ever, but it was certainly not perfect.
Only, it is. Right here, right now.

If you could only see his heart.
But he knows, that just means one day,
It will unfold, and you will. Sometimes,
he supposes he's ready to die, only
the aching in his stomach
of so many songs yet unsung
words not yet written
embraces unhad,
charities not given.

These are his thoughts. And he is also annoyed,
Paranoid in fact, all the judging rush hour traffic going by
What they think of me! He's sorry, he hates it. He smiled at you and your child. He thinks himself so dear.

But you only saw this dude walking through Lansdale,
Bringing back Pluto in skinny jeans and high tops,
his ***** thanks to God, the dirt is not *****
The worth is not worthy, smoking a cigarette,
looking at his phone, probably playing Pokymons again
another vibration somewhere down the line
Intersecting all the time.

His heart became like a dessicated root
And he walked around the world with a stiff spine,
Because he was afraid that the first thing to touch it would simply
crunch
Its vestige into dust,

And he would stop existing.

Two towers stand alone in the night
Towers of flesh bone and blood

The air was still and the night was dark
Slanted beams illuminated human faces

Brothers, we stand
And bits of the universe
Like strings or streamers between us

We spoke of those deep things
With two sets of ears that enjoy music

Two brains respond in kind
And voices that patter down streets

Leading up to farewell and departure
Parceled purpose carried home
Waiting for roles in the next adventure.

Somewhere in there,
Maybe I could go back and rescue my mind from this sizzling bath of TV static.
But you know what they say about thinking like that.
It's just that nothing seems to make much sense anymore,
And I find it hard to convince myself to make a move.
I'm scared, I trust myself only a little more than I trust the world.

I'm not moving, just thinking about all this and then you come home.
You talk to me in the cute voice you used with your cat when you were in Oregon.
It wakes me up.
I was unsure about all this at first,
And not really even aware of it,
But you've grown on me.
You've grown roots into my heart. I know what they want... and I couldn't bring myself to rip them out and walk away.

Because I looked down and saw that I'd grown roots into you as well.

I watched the craggy old man at the far end of the bar besiege his liver with absurd amounts of *** and Coke. It was entirely classless, like he was drinking his obsequies in plain sight of everyone. Not that ‘everyone’ amounted to much– it was a Tuesday, and there were seven lost souls scattered around Nightingale’s. Four of them were shooting pool. Big arms, tattoos, Harleys out front. Another two were puffing cigarettes through their fifties, probably talking about this ****** generation of kids and doing lines of 80’s nostalgia. A few seats from them was a loner (sporting a white braided ponytail and a rawhide vest, you know the type) sitting by himself, looking very divorced. He was engaged in conversation with the bartender, a black-haired ***** with enough experience. Occasionally he’d throw some whisky down his throat. Keeps the fire going.

But it was the sorry ******* in the corner who interested me more than anyone else, mostly because he had such blatant disregard for his own life. I watched him guzzle his eighth *** and Coke since my arrival. He was moving around so much, it was a wonder he stayed in his seat.

The light caught his addled face. You could see that maybe once he was handsome, but time had forced him to wear bad habits out. It made me wonder how. How and why.

“You know, all that Coke can’t be good for your bones,”

Awkward as hell, but it was the best I could muster. The words hung in the air, dry as scotch.

“You realla think I give a ****, dude?” he slurred. He sorta twitched when he spoke… I got the feeling he’d been at this for a while.

He belched loudly.

I let the stench of alcohol, depression, and **** excuse my hesitation.

“Well, why don’t you at least change it up a bit?”

I ordered him an old-fashioned. It really didn’t make a difference. The man was going to drink himself to death anyway. You could see it in his eyes.

He held up the drink loftily, considering it. He smiled wryly and looked at me.

“Thanks,” he said, and gulped the whisky down.

I began to grow unsure of the whole thing. Coming to this ****** pub, talking to this reeking old man… Hell, moving to Denver at all. I’d come here to forget things, but had yet to find anything of real substance to push old memories out…

He slammed his glass down heavily on the bar.

“You smoke grass?” He lobbed.

Interesting.

I followed him outside and tried hard not to be obvious as I inspected the joint he passed me. Not wet. I guess it’s fine.

“Do you live around here?” I asked, passing back the joint. The quality of **** surprised me. Strong sativa.

“If you can call this living…” answered the most depressing man in Denver.

I couldn’t take it anymore, so I just asked him.

“What’s wrong, guy? Why are you so **** sad?” I said.

“It’s really ******* stupid,” he said, turning. “It’s actually ******* insane.”

I pulled on the joint and waited for him to spill his guts.

“A long time ago,” he went on, “I was a lot different. I used to kiss all the pretty girls and make 'em cry.”

He sobered up a bit.

“But then one came along who I won’t forget. Too wild to be tamed,”

He looked down at the sidewalk and tossed the roach at it.

“Lost my ****. I rammed my car into that *****’s house and tried to take off. 'Course the five-o caught up with me and I ended up in jail with two felony counts.”

“**** dude,” I offered, “That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, I was a ******’ lunatic. Stopped caring after that. Been bouncing around ever since. Can’t get comfortable. Can’t get a good job.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered.

Nothing interesting happened after that. Bruce went on about his ex for a while, speaking highly of her. He told stories about days they shared in Pennsylvania. He told me all about her art and writing, and how he had obsessed over her for years, making her into a metaphor for death and loss. I listened to him ramble for quite some time, but after about half an hour I stopped caring and had to take my leave.

I lied to Bruce and told him I had work early in the morning.

When I got back to my apartment, I collapsed onto the futon and looked dramatically up at the ceiling. I got up and went to my desk. I opened the little drawer on the left.

I pulled out Nora’s picture from underneath my paystubs and saved bills. I thought about Bruce’s story and the smell of **** and alcohol. I felt pity for him– pity I didn’t want anyone to feel for me. Still, there was a clog in my throat and my eyes stung with emotion.

I sincerely hoped that Nora was having a great time in New Zealand.

I opened my window and let Nora’s picture fly into the unfamiliar city. I collapsed back on the futon.

It wasn’t comfortable

My head is a treasure chest full of these fantasies.

And she can sever it from the precious river of blood--
Then a slow decay will work upon my locked skull.

She can peer inside, and decide I'm not a gate to heaven
But a dead branch, a stop along the way
Better used as fodder for another life, another day.

We can talk, and tease
And play that way.

But this is the reason I toil under the hard sun:
She can open up my mind
And wear my thoughts like jewels on her holy head.

She smiles as she adorns herself with my deepest loves
The fruits of my labor become the clothes that she wears.

O woman, won't you come open up my chest
And harvest this hard-fought loyalty from my weeping soul?

No,
You're not the one whose hair escaped you
From the chemo treatments
Roving for potable water
Or on a diet of only rice for three years

No,
You're not the one who is just about leaving
Sitting in prison for crimes the universe made you do
Or the one beat half to death by a troupe of enraged hominids

But don't you think it's sad you have to do that?
Like Jesus Christ
Bent to yourself
Like Mohammad Blessed Be His Name
Forced to prophecy what kills you
Like the Buddha
With your ***** desires
Accessing higher dimensions fully aware of your ineptitude?

Sitting in a mansion crying
Covered in peanut butter,
Crying to the moon
You are almost the same size as the sun in the sky
What the hell is that supposed to mean?

You definitely hit the nail on the head
But wasn't it into your own?

Was it the best thing or the worst
And never having a metric to judge it against?

Don't you think

Don't you think

But don't you think it's sad you had to do that?

and i know i'm comin off
just a little bit defeatist
bout how they toys and elitists
and enjoy all the *****
but i'm tryn tell
you i really dig u
and ur fine as hell
ill even wash ur dishes

I'm so many folds deep.

It's when I listen to Soupy's songs
Or when those songs turn my attention to Ginsberg
And moments like that

That's when I realize how stuck in myself I am.

I want to write about someone dear to me. And it bothers me that I don't do that naturally.

I want to write about my generation. Something other than me.

I'm so detached from things, and only cultured in some random patches of obsession. I try to fix that. I am a little slow at it. And yet I witness from myself bursts of creative brilliance. It happens. . .

It is sometimes very hard to be creative. I think O. Henry said something about having to leave the house.

Who and what is dear to me? I miss Brian. We don't talk at all anymore, and we used to be best friends. I dont even remember what I said when I was depressed. What was that, two years ago?

I'm stuck on someone I haven't talked to in over 4 years. That's pretty horrible.

I really need to try to be more positive with my mom, even if she is having a rough day, because she just seems so sad even when she's happy. And I ****** my parent's lives up so terribly.

So now that I've done that I get to tell you more about me and why I'm so important,
I could do so many things with my brain,
I watch all these educational videos.

But I vandalized a train station one night in 2016 when my parents called the cops on me for throwing my brothers ihome and i talked to the cops and then tried to bike off the anger after.

But the tires were slashed and I got so mad and broke this very expensive electric sign at the train station as well as a store front window and a windshield of a parked car with rocks.

So then I did 5 months in jail and I was charged with a felony, but if I do this mental health court its not a felony, and it is a year and a half and every day i never know if I will have a drug test which takes lots of time to do because I take the bus a couple towns over for them

So that lasts for at least another year but my restitution is $45,000 and I will go on regular probation until that is paid off

So I'm like, pretty smart and I want to go to school but I'm not sure if I should do that or just try other things and be creative.

I dont know I've literally been studying receptor pharmacology of cells recently for kicks. And I love physics. I dont know. Music is my main love. I don't think its smart to major in music. Ugh, I'm 23

I dont know why I'm posting this I'm not trying but I want you to read it its like mean of me to want you to understand this but not even be trying.

I just want to be able to do things again, like drive and afford things and work a regular job. I feel like I'm in hell but I know I should be thankful? I dont know. I wish I were a famous musician.

I probably dont seem intelligent to you at all. I'm actually pretty intelligent but it is in specific ways, I'm like a lower tier genius. I'm just losing my ****. That got auto corrected to shot and now I'm sad.

Went crazy
Picking at a tiny piece of skin
Between the stars

Between my scars
You built a living castle
Then played the tape in reverse,
We're cursed

When I go to sleep
I know, I know
I know where I go

When I listen to your song
You told me something
I already know

This is not some contrivance
This is reality
This is the spectrum of the rational
And irrationality

This is all you wanted
All you ever wanted to be:

Me.

Cascading,

Me.

A silent walk
Down lonely halls,
I like to walk at night.
I cannot talk, that is for
The side that faces light.

That banner
Flapping in the wind outside.

I parse through fetal art,
Seeking life by candlelight.

I only see
I only see,
By candlelight,
By candlelight.

Water up to my ankles,
A wake that wrinkles my brow.
A coward sleeps in the library
While the books all fill with water.

So what makes me any different
From a driving rain
Or the free-fall of a dead leaf?

One wave holds us all--
How should I adjust my shape?

We are all alone in these places,
Forced to feel neuronal activity
And reconcile apes.
I will be pulled through
But I'll move objects
And change fate.

And then one day you sent a dove,
Which won a piece of me,
And brought it back to you.
A place where we can both live
Away from floods.

A place where we can look out,
From ourselves,
And see good in the world.

your cackle echoes through a troubled mind,
long shadows touch each other's corruption.

Lift me out
Of mundane fog,
Piercing swollen sinuses
And sparking tepid heart.

Dry the mud inside my eye
And make my world pristine,
Caffeine.

Waking to a lazy swamp
I'm reaching for my buttress drug
To stir in me a robust cup
That steams and runneth over,

Up!

I mean to match the rising sun
That grew the plant and brew of bean
That feeds the hands that worked the field
That makes my world pristine,
Caffeine.

The man demands the hour hand
With countenance too mean
I could not make it through these days
Without my love, caffeine.

Billowing, billowing, billowing
Sipping wine and blood-siphoning nether
Don't you think I know what I could be?
To empty halls, to empty rooms
This is a declaration of insanity

I don't know what the best option is--
A frantic schizophrenic,
A gulp of wine and silent frenzy
Good poetry comes from serene oases of mind,
Mine is loud, loud and careening inside.

You don't get paid if you call in sick.
Don't complain about it.
You're the one wasting everyone's time!

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.

There's nothing you can do to make it right
All we ever could afford is a bleeding dream
And my mind is in abyssal depths tonight
With all the helpless light to keep me company

We're lost forever,
Secret death
You said we won
But I'm seeing red

Cause no one's gonna hear me when I'm screaming for an answer,
And I'm drowning at the bottom of the sea

Captain, you're insane
You've got a look in your eye
You've got a deathwish in your
Broken mind
You've got a world to unexplain

*******, lonely God
And with a hopeless nod
You're gonna write it off
So just **** your pride
And deconstruct your brain

I'm in a world of pain

Captain, you're insane.

There's nothing we can do to save you now
When you're petrified, you're a sinking stone
And I don't even know if it floats
Cause all these lonely boats are just sinking slow

Between the stars and into nothing
Emptiness is coming
Loosening the skin from my bones

Captain, you're insane
You've got a look in your eye
You've got a deathwish in your
Broken mind
You've got a world to unexplain

*******, lonely God
And with a hopeless nod
You're gonna write it off
So just **** your pride
And deconstruct your brain

I'm in a world of pain

Captain, you're insane.

Fever's setting in
I'm alone for all of time
Head is jutting out
Without a plan or a lifeline

Vessel of the world,
Navigation was a lie!
What am I to do
Without a plan for a lifeline?

I guess that I'll just wait around
And die

Captain, you're insane
You've got a look in your eye
You've got a deathwish in your
Broken mind
You've got a world to unexplain

*******, lonely God
And with a hopeless nod
You're gonna write it off
So just **** your pride
And deconstruct your brain

I'm in a world of pain

Captain, you're in

Captain, you're insane
You've got a look in your eye
You've got a demon in your
Open mind
You've got a world to unexplain

*******, lonely God
And with a hopeless nod
You're gonna write it off
So just **** your pride
And deconstruct your brain

I'm in a world of shame

Captain, you're insane.

I guess we must not be capable
Of all that much,
Please understand when I express my greatest fears
When I am the center and the center makes the horizon
How would I be characterized?

As a thing that could do everything and anything,
Or a thing that can do nothing?

And how about that everything?
If I accomplished some things through external bodies,
Would you let me take the credit?
When you've expressed that you know I have a jealous heart.
Do I want to take credit for those things?
Not everything.

I guess we must not be capable of all that much,
Why am I characterized as the guy who gave up?
And why aren't I motivated to seek employment?
When I know the crushing weight of our judgments.

I know what I am
I do not make much sense
I am the only thing that makes sense
But it doesn't make it to me all the time

I guess we must not be capable of all that much.

Early one morning I woke up ready to go
Threw on my work uniform and dissolved the moon into my tea
Went out back, smoked burned some herb under the cloak of early morning

I feel the hard monster pushing on my back bones
Like the cardboard baler at work
Trying to normalize my life
The sunlight trying to keep itself simple,
Simplification crushing,
Business monster with roots in all the buildings
With roots in our nature,
Please let me out.

As a service to the body
How convenient is the harmony
How delightful it is to survive
And get fat together

A crooked piece went rect today
When a video hit me with a wave
That loneliness was born to save the self.

No quest to save the species
Written in our DNA
How dumb I felt to realize that
It's just a happy mistake

One that fell into my lap--
Tap tap tap, tap tap tap
I can afford to love
And that
Is that

The cathedral bricks evolved
Now they glow up our faces
The clergy and the ruling class
And those in
lower places

I have no legacy,
I have fussing and stretched and torn thanks

I have ducking my head while you beat your chest
Or fear of your razor sharp humility
While trying to hide my own
Which has been muttering ungrateful evils in that quarantined hut

I have no legacy,
You let me speak
And when I take my turn
The words are like dripping sewage
And the next one is a fine and practiced angel

Who worked their whole life just to accomplish some great thing.