I nominate the *** that's been brought to a boil
Our plans fell through
And we're about to go under the knife

Rise and shine
Like peas and carrots
Like loaded dice and the counting of cards

Aw, you beat me to the punch
You are not some run of the mill curator
With a reduction in pay, you know your stuff

I blame my dichotomous thinking

He's found himself in the closet
After he lost to himself in a game of tic-tac-toe
And tied his lobster bib tightly
Then hid his cheat sheet, for the pop quiz he knew was soon to come

It's curtains for her
She let the cat out of the bag
And now she's up **** creek with ****** for paddles to go **** herself with
Right in the birth canal

Then we'll auction off the ******
We'll pass them off as European defibrillators
Maybe some extremist will want them
If we spew out enough mindless dribble

The All Time ****-Show is about to begin
We have
The Chronic Masturbater
The Hypochondriac
And The Pathological Liar

It was either sometime yesterday
Or sometime tomorrow
Or was it sometime today?
That you were all going to make fun of the boy with the cleft lip down at the laundromat?

Out of the three of you The Pathological Lair sticks out like a sore thumb
I can tell he was the runt of the litter
Who always bites off more than he can chew

I see the Hypochondriac has convinced himself he has eczema  
He rattles off all his symptoms
Inordinate filibustering  

Now there's the Chronic Masturbater
He looks like he's over the hill
He's only twenty one
But the blue circles under his eyes and the deep defined lines on his forehead denote his inelegant aging

I sign all your lives away in my horrible cursive
And now you belong to the ragtag trigger-happy posse of gun-jumpers
My billfold his happily filled
So I must go do some reconnaissance
Spy on those who have quit their day jobs
The fish out of water

You must find that thing that really rolls off the tongue with a nice ring to it
******!
*******!
*******?!
....*******?

No...
Go hang youself with dental flossed you home-schooled fool

Indentured servants we're just an after thought

That was then, this is now
Who was where when what was how?
Hear them take their last breath as they're shot down
I scream
Floating in the gene pool, expecting the man who can walk on water to arrive
Sell outs and everyone who has had a bad week even though it's only Monday

Whippersnappers hang their heads in shame
I am one of twelve
So expendable
We live in gluttony
Lineleaders, math teachers, bottom-feeders have no idea
Watch them fall and be forced to crawl on their bellies
We laugh
Lewandowsky-Lutz dysplasia, getting back to your roots
Progeric clock-makers, lying dead on The Yellow Brick Road
Thin-skinned Transsexuals putting bricks in their purses
We live by eight
We die from our weight
And go unbloomed
       -Tommy Johnson
Standing in a nuclear reactor somewhere in Chernobyl looking for the truth
It might be in my contaminated endoplasmic reticulum
I am a radiant
Doppler radar
Monopoly dollar

Singing in the shower, amateur hour
Projecting sour notes
Pouring out their hearts and souls, hear them
Trying

Moo-juice nectar, spilling off The Round Table
Blondes in red bracelets, Kabbalah saves them
Henry pays no tax, John Berryman's bats tell us
You are the lunatic
We are the two quarters of a half-wit
This whole thing is insane

       -Tommy Johnson

Connected through corruption
Entangled
Snared in the web of The Unknown
Uncertainty's hands
Tightening on our throats

We become shadows
Pigmentation drained
The hope to overcome
Trickling down the gutter

Forever swimming
The raging seas of doubt
Anchored
By memories
We beg to forget

We're both drowning
Swelling tides
Of what could have been
Please, take my hand
We can make it to the other side

///

In my springtime,
when moonlit was falling from her(moon) height
mother was lip syncing the lullaby
and I turned to sleep
It grew a sweet dream of summer
that was created too many stir of dreams

Then I can remember,
when every year,
late autumn had come,
I kept my kite on the blue sky
that was floating with drifted clouds
and I was awaking again with a big shout
sometimes I had seen supernatural shadows on the evening sky

If I address my adult young
When the mystic purple camellia were blooming
the grasshoppers were rounding
and the beautiful shrubs of white flowers were dancing
with the gentle breeze,
I was wandering in the ground
then the bees were humming around
when I painted her wild beauty
and it seemed me as a sweetie

I know you say me a dreamer
but you don't know,
my grandfather was a farmer
and my father was a sailor
who was sailing away his life into the blue ocean

After then day by day I grew older
yet I have locked all those lost in a folder
and taken all those responsibility in my shoulder
after then I had fallen in too many doubts
it was again the too dark cloud’s shout
who are those dark clouds?
how did it melt and bring the tears!
how the petals of roses grew wither!

Then I drafted,
crafted
and drifted all of my dreams
then a train had come to my known station
and carried me again from the dark to light

Again I have made a dream
and I sing a song of spring
after then I take a sad song
and try to make it delighted
that certainly it makes me rolling,
and moving towards the sweet summer
but again the monsoon has blown
towards the dry leaves of murmur
and slowly and slowly,
it has swiped me toward the sound of banner
that was passing through my life
///

@ Musfiq us shaleheen

I would rather be empty
Than lead a shallow life.