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333 · Jan 20
Neverland
The fairytale of America
is dead to me
Killed by a ******* in horns
Maybe my veil has simply been lifted
Long has it been so for others
while still others never knew
its comforting shade
A reverence as meaningful now
as that for Santa Claus
Was my faith so brittle so ignorant
Is it still
Seems so
**** I don't know
I need to visit those stones again
let them speak through the cold
They were never silent but
maybe now I won't be deaf to their story
maybe now I'll listen
maybe now
183 · Nov 2020
Library
There are
corners for
open secrets
as in
a dream

Adolescence
cast
in long
brutal
shadows
by a waning
midday
light

Scents
of bound
whispers
echoing
through
the stacks

The promise
of fantasy
in reality
amid the
fading
week's
end
180 · Oct 2020
Mooon Witch
What is it like
The moonlight on her skin
Surely it must dance
Some spectral movement
A longing that only
The forest would know
Deep secrets whispered
Beneath its bows
Ancient recollections of
Sweet footfalls amid the duff and
Arcane choired reverances
Echoing a covens embrace around
Samhain fires
Charming the spirits arise and
Make light the growing darkness
But time is cruel and
She alone now stands
Testament to the cycle
******* in the dew
Singing the old songs
In the old ways
Enticing that old wood wake and
Take heed the coming dawn
170 · Nov 2020
Just Conveniences
Razor tucked in the fixture
base

That and the dull-fluorescent-light
stare me
Dead
in the face

Was it put there just in case?
How did they know to find me here?
In this place?

I guess
it's just another convenience
in another
mini-life-space

Little shampoo for your hair
Little soap for your hands
Little lotion for your skin
Little blade for your sins

and a sink in which to
Erase

All just such
a
convenient
little
Waste
148 · Oct 2020
Why Weed is Good
I hate those Voodoo mornings when I cant dig myself out of my own head a relentless quipping chirping anxiety over woulda coulda shoulda wishing I knew better wondering why I dont silent resolutions that evaporate by days end pondering the infinite insignificance of everything that is nothing paranoid that nothing is in fact everything in the doomed hands of a salvation without mercy heavy hearted in the dark waiting for light to peek through the blinds and tell me that its ok to be awake its a lie but thats ok too I guess **** it might as well make the coffee

BUT

I
love
those
hazy
baked
evenings
where
every
thought
is
clarity
or
at
least
the
perception
of
it
guiding
each
seamlessly
to
the
next
and
still
next
after
until
the
next
132 · Oct 2020
Collateral Damage
Entombed in plastic and million dollar magnets a marvel of medical magic mines my mind for defects little pearlescent pearls of impending numbness and degeneration generated by rogue proteins surging through my spine an overwhelming force indiscriminately seeking targets shooting first and never asking
questions
#ms
122 · Nov 2020
Math
A true
Banana Republican
he claims
fraudulent results
due to
American intervention
105 · Nov 2020
Duskwalker
There's an abstraction
to the story of the road
Moments of clarity
stitched together
behind blurry eyes
yarning the tale
Legion threads
of asphalt
singeing
singing
a web
of need
and desire
Backlit reflections
of headlights in chrome
Eyes behind eyes
guiding the way
nowhere
and
everywhere
104 · Oct 2020
Monkey Grinder
I'm not the monkey
that turns her *****

Oh

don't get me wrong
I know how to play
I can make that box sing
But it's not my fingers she wants
on the crank
not my head she wants in
that little red cap
not my lips she wants
puffing the smoke behind the leash
and certainly not my hairy *** she wants
swaying to the tune

No

only one can
grind those gears
only one can
tinker that barrel
only one can
make her hum
proper and true
But in the end
he's just another one
one of us

     little
          monkey
                      bums
88 · Nov 2020
Mojave
Another day
trudging a
blistered shitscape
shuffling a
burning hellscape
tripping a
melted fuckscape

Mars or
the 40
there is
no escape
I need
that pay
86 · Oct 2020
Tomorrow
I could have
but didn't
I don't know why
I certainly should have
but I didn't even try
maybe
someday
I'll get around to that thing
someday
but not today
or tomorrow
perhaps not ever

**** it
I suppose

why not live the lie
and regret it
until the day I die
76 · Oct 2020
Political Spectrum
Funny
I thought
McConnell's lips
would have been
orange
72 · Oct 2020
The Night Chicago Died
Pope John Paul II
maybe
Johnny P the Deuce
(to his friends)
empassions an Easter sermon
years before the Passion
or millennia after
to Jane Fonda
feathered red and nicotine stained
watching the city burn
one
station wagon
at
a
time
69 · Oct 2020
Sputtering
Can't cut through
Lost my even keel
Just blackness below
and sharks at heel
Could tread forward
Rather flip the wheel
Run her aground
Taste the bite of the steel
Let the waves crash over
and the chain unreel
Until the deep takes me whole
and I can no longer feel
The grip of the truth
and the horror of the real
I'd like my mind to fade
maybe
give it some time to heal
66 · Nov 2020
I Wonder...
Humpty Trumpty
sat on his wall
bleating and blathering,
condemning us all.

"I know the way,
I'm better than you,"
Tweeted he every night
over his golf course view.

"I don't care for Mexicans,
Muslims, and not so much Jews...
Well, at least not the Dems and
those on the 'news'.

I prefer instead those painted orange,
like me,
in fine Italian shoes.

I'm the President now,
I decide if the sky stays blue...
not the the artists or the scientists...
and certainly not you.

I'll make this Country great again!
You'll see, I know what to do!
Put your faith in me, a 'Billionaire'!
I promise, I'll tell you true!"

Hollered he up high,
his chubby fingers crossed,
as his great jowels blubbered,
and his voice quaked with frost.

"I wonder," thought I,
reading his alternate 'facts' of the day,

"Maybe he wouldn't be so grumpy
if his daddy loved him more, or at all,
or maybe, just maybe,
if his fat greedy hands
weren't so
*******
small."
Sent to DJT in his first 100. May it grace the cover of my FBI file, should I have such a file.
59 · Oct 2020
Temple of the Read
A wise pope once said
a man's ambition
must indeed be small
to write his name
upon a ******* wall

But for want of superstition
and tales told tall
I'll play that ancient game
....right after my last call

Preluding my expiration
just before the fall
I'll seek the Devil's fame
and inscribe that ***** stall

By hook, by crook,
or explosive indigestion
Every nook, every sideways look
shall bear my ugly shame
For what better eulogy book
than that old ******* wall
That great temple of the read
As we usher in a new Dark Age giddy at the prospect of renewed ignorance where faith in absurdity lights the way and opinion is fact if it's shouted loud and long and our plagues descend not from evolving microorganisms but vengeful spirits aloft and doctors become the spiteful magicians next door I find myself curious who first will burn for the sake of reality?

Confucius say...you can't fix stupid, *******, everyone burn.
53 · Nov 2020
Idling for Lynn
she left her boots
by the door
dying
she killed a piece of me
on that floor
crying
doesn't seem to do any good
not anymore
idling
the day writing
maybe strumming
a few chords
trying
to move through
not past
and my best
not to score
plying
the pages
I'll pen a few lines
and a few lines more
and a few lines more
and a few lines more

because there is no truth
not in ending
not by
the door
49 · Jan 6
WordsandotherTrash
I love rambling cacophonies of abstraction words dripping lust plush and velvety sugared in pipe tobacco like Jack Rubys old joint no symbols to trip the flow odd bits of alliteration skipping stones slowly along the rails in legion divergent trains of thought but I am no McCarthy probing the inner turmoil of the Southern mind maybe riding I will tap out a poem about a poet writing poetry God I hate that **** or maybe something referencing my username the song Bad Company off the album Bad Company by the band Bad Company thrice I have called thy name and thus I do bind thee oh well you are what you eat I suppose to which I would usually respond ***** a bit crass maybe pretty ******* too hah **** it its just wordsandshit WordsandotherTrash
41 · Oct 2020
US of A
The Reds won by turning capitalism and democracy against us The frenzied shortsighted pursuit of individualism enraptured by its own grandiosity Obese in arrogance and false piety Among our weakest links the myth of liberty in the guise of protection against our own From My Cold Dead Hands they will eulogize the depths of our hypocrisies tucked into the gaping cracks of a marbled column tombstone that reads We the People a hollow echo from a dead philosophers guilded mirror reflecting delusions of equality while his window glimpsed the reality of People bound as chattle An era of monsters championed as heritage by a devolved theater of gross absurdity enraptured by a sycophantic maelstrom swirling a wretched mass of vitriolic grievance creeping its facists tendrils through our halls our homes and our hearts So much bluster about essential freedoms now a **** in the wind from a constituency of the ignorant dead eyed before the altar of Exceptionalism A manifestion of the truly unexceptional by a bizarre cult of personality devoid of that very essence Whiny and bloated convinced its oily opulence is somehow self evident justification for its own cavernous gluttony Heavy the privileged jowels spew hatred and lies slathered in corruption shouted as truth through the arcanity of scripture among those who would not know the forest from the trees from the rot in their minds as long as it says so on the TV vomiting endless propaganda of imagined shadow forces flooding the country with fictionalized caramel colored criminals Willingly blind barrelling into a fog of twisted fantasy failing to realize that the narcos envisioned pale by comparison of heinous intention or deed to the very real NARCs embraced Lockstep and jackboot heel in tow behind a tide of Nationalism that is anything but A contrived patriotism cannibalizing its own mythology whittling the bones of history to alternate facts devoured by fat children as so much sugary cereal bored reading the Constitution from the back of a whitewashed cardboard box ******* about a return to values and integrity they dont possess with their fingers crossed Cowing to the blackened whims of spineless parasitic wraiths picking at the shades of fallen titans Packs of roving dipshits trumpeting ideals their grandfathers died to eradicate Prancing about sporting the finest camo and tac gear in a perverse sashay Their measure of civic duty reduced to how much red white and blue crowds their shitstained boxers dowsed in cheap beer and sad rivulets of encrusted ***** trickled in a shame for which they have yet to fully account or atone Fools leading the foolish to oblivion are we God bless the USA for surely no creature under heaven would
41 · Oct 2020
Firelight
She dances
a demon's tinder
through a voice
not her own
purring Appalachia
as if born to it

But it is not the voice I hear
I hear how it was

Sounds and sights
twenty years gone
on those streets
on that railing
through those halls
in that cold

She is in other halls now
on other tracks
down other roads
warm and shadowed
by a different
firelight

Did she change
certainly
Did I
doubtful

Maybe
I just never
really knew
her
voice
38 · Dec 2020
Turtle
What colors are the stars?
I asked her,
a spectrum of
twinkling hues
cast against the
ceiling,
blinking from
the beast's shell.
What magic she must perceive
behind her eyes?
Ancient stories
wrought in the fabric
of her DNA,
distant memories
ages old
of times around
the fires.
38 · Oct 2020
Words
I send words
like **** pics
both decidedly
wanting
and
unwanted

Except maybe by one

but that was
long ago
and who
really
knows
the truth of it
now
37 · Oct 2020
Shower Beer
Shower beer
shower beer
my kingdom for a
shower beer

My kingdom is a
shower and a bed
yup
just a shower and a bed
in this podunkshitholenowhere
town

But I'm suds'n up
while suds'n down
making my frown
turn
up
Up
UP-side down

Nothing better
nothing aside
from her
peachy little mound
nothing better in this
fuckedupdownandoutdingy
Desert town

Never astray have I been steered
nope
not by a shower beer
no indeed
no tears have I shed
no siree
no life have I bled
no not me
no ill will have I ever bred

no
not on account
of
a shower beer
32 · Oct 2020
Unsensical
Far be it from me
To complexify the issue
By propulgating wrongery
Less I subterfuge
My untentions
Toward wittery
And ashoe
Refudiation
32 · Nov 2020
Ghost Water
That's the place
they would wash
their dead
Prepare them
for what comes next
The lands beyond
I guess
Now we drill for it
bottle it
put wells in their
cemeteries
Seems we're
thirsty for their
ghost water
Need a taste
of that
poltergeist pool
31 · Oct 2020
Nostalgia
Macrame for days
cruising in tubes
and fannypacks
on Caddy couches

Ash in Pepsi cans
dogs n mac
and
floral print velour
meant love

A onetwo on
Soda Popinsky
and locust
husks
on the old
walnut tree
were the
****

New Topps
new Jos
new Raisins
air conditioning
and the smell of the
rain
29 · Oct 2020
Homage
I bought one of his
first editions
He would've preferred that
I spent it at the track

We all disappoint
20 · Mar 19
Wyoming
Well whiskey and a Rock Springs girl,
in one Cowboy Bar or another,
waiting for the ceiling to swirl.
She says she wants to be a mother,
I just want to see her toes curl,
but I wonder if it's worth the bother.

She's lost herself to the endless wind,
thinks anywhere else must be better.
Feels her life's been pinned,
to the tail of an *** unfettered.

I don't want to tell her,
there isn't any place better.
Same **** everywhere you go,
tempered hard and stupid slow.

It's with whom you take the ride,
but God knows she's tried.
Just one ******* after the other,
and I sure as **** ain't a father.

I'll just sit with her awhile,
hope she adds me to the pile.
A drifter liar and her next mistake,
busy working the rigs for my own big break,

until my life's been pinned,
to the tail of an *** unfettered.
17 · Dec 2020
GOmfP
A flock of sheep in sheep's clothing each of whom fancy themselves lone wolves when really they just follow the ******* in front of them as sheep are want to do.
15 · 3d
N.R.E.
People want clarity
not truth
The resolution of
confusion
whether or not
resolution
reflects
reality
If the threshold for
resolution
is just enough
to whet
the mind
then the interpretation
becomes fact
becomes reality
becomes
so
Besides
what is our reality
if not
an interpretation
wrought by
the mind
14 · Mar 28
Smudge
I do not think he would
begrudge a wine tinted
smudge on the page
a blush of the blushest blush
akin to the blood of life
the cup that is filled and overfloweth
blood into wine
the Book's little innuendos
coyly writ for the quiet amusement
of chastened monks
Christ what a waste
not the man mind you
the Word
the words
lost in the compounded
ignorance of millenia
I prefer them stained red
honest on back-lit pages
Who could begrudge honesty
History it seems

— The End —