body's built
to starve, late night
accusations
and the magazine
pages keep
on spinning

land on page 99;
how to lose weight
or lack thereof

someone's yearning
for a ***** chai, grande
no ice

almond milky
way

tonight, it's about
mimicry, with no
soul inside

be free, a copycat
of an adolescent

wake up tomorrow
and prepare the head
for it's inevitable
face palm

ever feel
like you're
this close
from getting
your head
severed?

the body...

so neck
deep in it's
own impulses
and desires

how comedic
to call it ours

it's her body,
let her do
what she wants
with it

is like saying:

it's his
car
let him
crash into
a group
of children

the mind
and it's
desperate
need for
possession

to control,
to have and
to hold

to cherish this time
as though it
were never time at all

i say

let's watch
their wounds
bleed out
and see how desperate
they are to seal them

the infinite
is a simple speck

our complicated

mouths fumble
to spit out

she's
got a tattoo
of the alkaline
trio logo;
the heart
and skull
by the crease
opposite of her
elbow

she does acoustic
renditions of
90's punks songs
in the backrooms
of cafes around
the shady parts
of town

i'm not a fan
but an innocent
bystander

pierced by
bullet
and blade

hands cupped
over my ears
pleading
for the sound
to finally fade away

i just work here
and can't
handle it anymore

i get called
an *******

but i can live with that

$4 an hour
minimum

scouring
the nostrils
for golden
nuggets
takes a certain
skill

let's sing
along to
Lana Del Rey
songs

in our
best nasally
voices

we're impressions
of impressions
after all

so who
is really a legend?

the popstar
is just
a pop
without
her stars

and
we're all
in sync
with closed
lips

tonight

when i was
a child*

at night
i used to see
shadows dart
across the walls
in the gutters
of our streets

it wasn't
till i got older
till i finally met
those creatures
and called
them by name

some of them
have passed;
some of them
still live to this day

we don't get together
as much as we used to

but those filthy,
albiet, gorgeous
creatures

still live at the bottom
of my heart

where the waste of
my mind goes

don't mind
the burning
red eyes,
or the tears
streaming
like exhausted
snakes

down my cheeks;

I'm just here,
waiting (with
clenched fists
and trembling
ribs)

for your

sweet kiss
goodnight

i.

There are tiny
holes in the wall,

as though
the drill
was having
the time of it's
life not fulfilling
it's duty

It reminds me
of the time
I wore a brand new
pair of shoes just
to splash around
in puddles

We are the increments
of flesh caught in the
gnashing gears of time
and space

ii.

There will be a day
when you say
goodbye to me;

and I won't
mind the heartbreak,
I swear,--

I'll carry your
wicked smile
to the depths
of my grave