Into nerves
and cleaning up
ever nerves Into as beveled as the digit, then burn.
with a new youth itch
I gotta read electric view down your spoons
one eye of a cross legged serpent
come  grabbing hoping the badly or worse
got bathed, mother stuck them into two pieces,

There is a place i cannot go anymore.

A place where memory drives ten- ton trucks down the streets recklessly and with violent intent.
Run over in plain sight, bothered by smoke and cold with rain on-top.
Foggy and damp, with bright and sunny aperture.
There is a place i cannot walk anymore.
Sidewalks bent and twisted out of shape from people running away.
Streets too narrow and steep to breathe.
I cannot stand small talk,
I cannot stand memory,
I  cannot stand so i'll lay down like everyone else here.


My mouth makes sounds like a firing range.
But instead of bullets there's spit and instead of fire there's just air.

I thought I had been cast out of the mud castle kingdom. Then one day it dawned on me, 28 miles per second would be enough to break through my own roaring and escape back into
over developed proxy and reach a small awareness.
enough, i thought, to overwhelm a wall of demons.

Guarded are their black glassy gates.
Then one day it happened.
Pam, crying chemical rainbow tears while looking at all of the big red blimps.
"now clouds" she said, "clouds should all be plastic and red." And with that her ankles turned to dust and started a fury of little cyclones. Outwards , outwards.
now she cant spell forwards. she can't count backwards, and every other time she blinks her eyes the retina won't flip the image. The world goes upside down and insideout.

I can't handle it.  
They all lied to her, told her the world was just level.
I am sleep now. I'm weak. Those big long brittle spider legs tapping at the pavement. Those ******* belladonna eyes and wormwood spire. Godamned, he bent the buildings out of shape. He could sink all the gondolas in Venice.

Wearying us morning, noon, and night.  
  Torturing us
We have to go now
And as many as were the tears they shed in the wretched school,
They still conveyed to him
On examination, however, they turned out to be strictly unaware.
Only you and I,
Together on a pink cloud

i lost my ******* keys like an *******
then i found them on my bookshelf
haphazardly laid about in swoon style
key spooning digital receptor
transmitter

on the drunken prowl debts are paid
verbal inoculations
of heart
a boll weevil of the mind


such thoughts will follow
blindly
without content

clouds in the nitrogen reflective sky
bite marks and bruises on my skin
both condensed by mystical thought
as only a proven theorist could show

the insanity of logic
is our proof of existence

therefore hallucinating  long red hairs
the keyboard that is made apparent by the inner hellfire
the so called tortured soul
and the inadequacy of all human comprehension

we can bring an end to the idea of symbolism
and resort to the purest form of command
relinquish all hope in control

jump from roof to roof
off a moving train

escape from that which draws you to your birthplace
end the dying shells
get off the island
stay with your sickness

atleast it's trying to leave you

for as long as i live, i promise to look down the holes i find
promise to look into absolute uncertainty, and not to give a **** about it
ill look at the cellular device and face my rejection.

how many more words can i possibly make use of?
i'm out of wine
i'm out of thoughts
for the devil has pre-empted them

destroy the scent of the flesh
it will end up there at some point eventually
the people who are really capable of love will shine through
cast great lines across the sky
across the ocean
across eyes and sand
lapping waves
fruiting dirt

if i don't miss that now i won't ever
rhythm rhythm rhythm
sword sword sword

now its all a mess again
start over tomorrow

This one ripped a hole in space-time, and she took everyone she knew with her. they could watch her roll down a hill like a seven year old, and laugh. as if to say cognitive dissonance is natural. after a certain age, who can tell where hypnosis and knowing are different? the border wall between pain and joy is obliterated by the act of experience. this realization enacts itself as an addition to a conscious bias, in which we all take pride.

        To say that you know beauty, is to say that you know the feelings of a brick wall. that is where the claws come in. they are ripping away at your loose lipped torso, and lusting over every solitary millisecond. like any good christian, muslim, jew, buddhist, agnostic, we wonder what these little fragments are.

    Will this make me feel any better, any worse? if pouring your heart out was the name of the game, the suicides would be pope. so we must sit around. harness anger and use it to observe the things that oppose it. such as instant love, or hate. such as silhouetted and budding trees against a dark blue sky. such as died hair in the bright winter sun, the color of wine and crushed pills.

    Bladder as a brewing storm, coughing into the wind.i see you as all existence sees me. as if a sore shoulder passes with an awkward twist. like a poked out eyeball at the scene of a homicide. every single color. the intelligent head of every lost spectrum. death of the soul. birth of sight.

at last may my head rest.
thank you for all of this
my dear, beloved empty skull in the sky
thank you for half a spinal chord
and for the power to rip it out

You are stealing from me
those winks can only yell so loudly
you are still a cold tint of buried

at least, you're better than punching plastic.
You're less than a dying digit
More than a love
Above all eyesight


sometimes my head can't turn up
but when it does

i'll do anything to keep it there