I had almost mastered the art of making my way through life without making too much noise.

I had spent the last 6 years mostly alone.
Concentrated all my efforts on trying to stay out of prison.
Worked on the writing and the poetry.
And doing all I could to just be forgotten.

I had kicked up enough dust in my early years to spend the majority of my adult life behind bars.
Came home with more tattoos, another strike and a
Monkey on my back.
I was home with greying hair, a bullet in my hand that hurt like hell, an ex wife who hated me, kids who didn't know me and friends who had forgotten all about me.

I move as low to the ground as possible now days.
I went out only when I had to.
I was just trying not to be noticed.
Hoping that maybe they'll forget about all the bad I had done
and just let me grow old in silence.

I spent  my 40th birthday in a coin-op laundromat that reminded me of a crude jail house day-room.
Concrete floors, metal picnic tables with a large tv bolted to the wall  

She walked in carrying what looked like everything she owned.
She couldn't have been more than 5 feet tall, maybe 100lbs at the most.

I quickly stood up from my seat on the cold steel bench and offered to relieve her of some of her burden, to which she shyly obliged.

Nobody ever taught her how to be polite.
She didn't know what being gracious even meant until she met me.

She'ld say " Don't blame me I wasn't raised right", it was our lil joke but a joke that was far  to real.

It was her beauty that saved her.
Her body was what most women would never have.
Men felt a burning desire at the sight of her.
Which she used to her advantage when needed.
It's what helped her get by during the roughest of times.

She wasn't a ***** but they didn't know that.
By the time they had realized she wasn't giving what they wanted she would have already packed her things and left for good.

Men would promise her almost everything when all she really wanted was something to call her own.

Her front tooth was chipped from a fight with an ex boyfriend.
The minor flaw only added to her rare type of natural beauty.
Light freckles across the bridge of her nose.
She had scared up boney knuckles and always wore thick silver rings on 4 of her fingers.
Naturally long eyelashes and acne scared cheeks she'ld hide with cover up.

What she knew of the world was almost comical, she hadn't been anywhere and wasn't planning on going anywhere any time soon.
What she lacked in social skills couldn't compare to what she knew how to do in bed.

I gave her a safe place to rest without having to worry.
She gave me reason to shower in the morning and comb my hair before bed.

We played chess which was a surprise to me when she asked me if I played.

I introduced her to  Bukowski, Dante and Virgil.
She brought a strange type of warmth to my otherwise cold lonely apartment .
Our time was a break from the isolation and a reminder of how it was to be with another.
She brought back memories I had long ago forced
myself to forget.

Her only rule was that I never asked about her past.
What she wanted me to know she would share on her own.
My only request was that she never asked me to stop using
and when she felt it was time to move on ,she wouldn't take the time to say goodbye.

The porch light shadowed her soft features deep within the blackness of her hooded sweatshirt.

Her shoulders were soaked and blackened,
her make up all but gone.

The hair I would later hand dry was heavy and matted against her pocked scared cheek.

She crossed my threshold and gently ran her cold, wet fingertips along my bare chest as she passed.

My old white cat greeted her with an evil hiss and daring stare as she kicked her wet shoes off in the mud room.

I took in the rain soaked Southern California wind before swinging closed the heavy door, mostly with my shoulder.
A moment before the door closed I caught sight of a falling light as it was tumbling deep within the shallows of the dome.

She had stripped down to her ******* and a pair of my old socks.
Thick black eyeliner ran from the corners of her hazel eyes.
Steam billowed as her wet hair met the warmth of her bare tattooed shoulders.

I moved to the restroom and tried not to stare as she removed each wet sock with her feet.
Her thin arms sat across her full, firm breast.
Her wet hair stuck to her face and shoulders.
Each of her hands cupped her elbows.
Both of her thumbs had silver rings..

She rubbed her face along the collar of my heavy cotton robe as she enveloped herself deep within its fluffy folds.

I used honey with her tea and Bourbon with my coffee and we both slept in until noon.

Everything's a lie, everything.
Things are coming to light.
they cant hide it anymore.

Too much information can be exchanged
with little to no effort.

They went to the Moon but threw away the data.
They're driving teslas in space and expect you to believe it.
You're called crazy for questioning their claims.

Everything they teach us is wrong
Everything we thought we knew means nothing at all.

We are born of lies and
die believing in them.

Giants Dragons Titans
Silicone Conduits Straight to the Heavens.

Evidence all lay in stone.
I tried to tell them and they thought I was crazy.

Energy is free and there is truly
nothing new under the Sun.

Airlines charge you for fuel they don't use.
Everything should be free like the energy the
Spires and the Sky Scrapers
gather ,while we dig for coal and bleed.

There should be no homeless anywhere unless that's how they want to be.

Prove to me we are spinning and
I'll speak of the plain no more.

The curses and the man made disease.
Half these things we never need.

There's no such thing as too many people.
Overcrowding what?
Nobody truly knows how much land
there is still unseen.

They made so many of our lives so hard.
Everyone for a very long time
we've all missed out on so much.

The survivors of the Deluge what few there were to be.
Made an oath to keep the knowledge their secret.
They spread out across their new world to rule us.
Those who came after the flood and who knew nothing of the teachings of old.

Good little workers ,consumers that's all we will ever be.
I want something more on my headstone besides
"He was good worker"
" He loved his job"

We've  been given so very little
of what was meant for us all to enjoy .

There's no time for the arts.
No time to create, to enjoy
to truly know what gifts he left for all of us .

The Golden Age they had it, they lived it.
Then they blew it just like we are now.

Except we've never known any other
way that's better than this.

The orderly runs a silent dust mop across the masonic checker board hallway floor.

Sounds like machines beeping, a voice on an intercom calling for someone by their title, silent muffled weeping, elevator doors ringing your floor, the rise and fall of a mechanism keeping someone alive.

The small chapel no bigger than a large pantry,
two rows of oak carved pews.
Italian made cedar crosses and small stain glassed reliefs adorn each of the walls.

Candles burn and flowers die and nothing we've done here means anything where we are all going.

The Jaguar sits still and unfinished in the carport.
None of us can bring ourselves to finish what he started.

We get but only one chance to live, one chance to experience love.
So many of us end up living a full life of pain.

He asked how I felt the night that he gave in.
I told him I felt cheated and that nothing here will ever be the same

If you insist on using
please don't ever get
high alone.

Don't be a Pig.
Never mix it with pills
or  liquor.

Always respect
what it is you are doing.

Never lose that respect.
The day you do
Death will come calling.

And there's no coming
back from death .

There's a low rumbling deep in my gut.
A still silent void where my heart had been

Scars so many scars most of which nobody will ever see .
Cork topped  bottles filled with homemade  Ointments made with tree resin , white sage ,mint leaves and bitter root.

They're closing down the Walmarts but the Pharmacies and the Security shack will both remain open.
Prescriptions are more like recommendations .
Is there truly any kind of cure.

They'll come for you when the water rises and ship you off like rescued cattle .
If you're not on the team they won't accept your help.

A drowning child won't look at your uniform or lack there of one.
There's power in numbers , strength in the ability to get along .

I started this thinking about my loneliness.
It's just enough to try and help you remember .

All my thoughts aren't always about me .

I love it all
I can't get enough.

Inside some street dealers sweaty palm.
Wrapped in a tiny balloon stashed between some nameless guys missing teeth and rotting gums.

My prize and maybe my death patiently awaits me.

You can't substitute one for another.
I need more damage and I want pain free consequences that I won't remember.

If it doesn't hurt I can't use it.
If there's a price to pay I'll pay it tomorrow.
Just give me what I came for.

I pass my days with Wine and cigarettes.
Use the  least amount of conversation as possible.

I've used all the Drugs I need something  new.
She chased her pills with Beer and only cursed after *****.

Some come here seeking wealth and fame.
'We were all born here never got nothing else from it but pain .

Pawn shops and cheap motels line the street like  the girls along   Century Blvd.
Mansions and Asian gardeners, middle eastern kids with family money and Mc Donalds straws.

Sunsets end my days.
I'm only alive once the Moon takes control .

I dug a hole for you and my memories.
My hopes are too stubborn to die.
My dreams all turned to memories and there's a hole full of those already.