The interpretation
of biblical equations
led to justified discrimination
And subsequent *******
including horrid abominations
committed by all the world’s nations
(which are simply human’s creations)
faking focus on all of the news stations
pretending to help all of those poor Haitians
until it forgot them too with such elation
As to turn your head no longer facing
the bullets and shell casings
leave you running and pacing
until cops are slowly tracing
your body in chalk
No more wine tastings Mr. Hasting
because you drank too much
and can’t talk.
Now your stalking your ex’s
and killing all in sight
“lord please protect us!”
From Moral assault in west Texas
brought to you and directed
by the world’s democratically elected
Except I figured it out
after I prodded and dissected
what is lauded and protected
the diseases of this world that are financially connected.
That Jesus will never be scientifically resurrected
and even with this conclusion
I am still being spiritually affected.
The END.

The bottom the bottle of whiskey
Bashes my insides and face with wrinkles
Strewn about my eyes and smile,
Wildly grown from the child I  seek inside
myself
So hypocritically
That innocence I contemplate
As I **** and pillage my morals with
Actions so contemptible and occasionally
Outrageous I want to repeat
HYPOCRITICAL
I yell as that innocence beckons me
My simpler thoughts distorted by mad, mad
silly behaviors of an actor I’ve acted to be
Because this actor
Others will act like
This mad, silly rampage has left for me
nothing but ink on paper, napkin paper,
carbon paper, construction paper, rolling        
paper, paper for later and notebook paper
This paper my savior allowing me to finalize
and analyze my actor’s mad, mad , silly
behavior.

When rip tiding sliding ravaging
And questioning that equestrian suggestion
Making hesitations about the lack of vegetation
Due to global microwaves
And that came straight from the horse’s mouth
Or you can doubt
Tom
Mr. Doubting
Tom
Like we should’ve doubted Vietnam
Dropping all types of incendiary bombs
On the unseen,
untouched trails
of the ghost like Vietcong
And that is not to be doubted
Or creating a hatred so absurd and obtuse
loosely based
on History, relatives and carrying their ******* baggage
Through the years.
I’d rather smoke and drink beers until I am bleeding out ears of corn
And then maybe we could feed somebody in this rat race.
This ******* place.
I mean, great city and all
But it stinks like **** out there.  And you know it.

I feel tiny, powerless, a yelling screaming nobody
Concerned about everybody but myself
And no amount of wealth or education
Will make me start chasing any goals for
Myself that aren’t free for the taking
And I’m acting and faking and spewing
Sweating and shaking afraid of my own *******
Shadow but not afraid of rain storms or of snowy roads
Or weather or spiders and darkness or pulling
All nighters and my grimace is getting more wrinkly and tighter
Because I’m hollow and shady and barely making these words
about how I hate me
Ever so softly into the night with havoc and terror and ****** on my mind
I’ll have indeed murdered sleep
Ill ****** death itself with my luck