it's going to be
so easy to do what i have
got
to do
when i do
it
since knowing
that doing what
i am going'
to do
won't matter
to you

(or anyone else for very long, anyway)

which makes
it
easy
to do,

soon.

when the sweethearts left,
we took off our token smiles
and overly-kind eyes.

my roommate grabbed a beer,
quickly ****** it off,
i put on "beat connection" by lcd,
and the derailment of the night
began with some synth and burps.

i made a *** of coffee,
went outside,
the neighbors were having a party,
making a stew,
grilling chicken,
drinking,
drinking,
drinking,
and exhaling enough smoke to signal the natives.

"are you drinkin' coffee muthafucka?"

"hi, i'm josh, and yes."

"the name's chase."

"nice to meet you." *******.

before i knew it chase, our neighbors,
and about three people i didn't know
were in my apartment.

chase looked at a picture of lennon in
our living room.
asked me my favorite beatles album.

"probably sgt.peppers."

"you like that gay ****?"

"if that's gay ****, yes i like gay ****."

he grunted with rednecker royalty.

"the white album is probably my second favorite,"
i offered.

"man, the white album is the ****.
there is nothing else."

someone said they had some fire, if anyone was interested.
everyone was.

there was a dark-skinned boy, with snow white teeth and a fake afro, rapping as i clumsily played an acoustic.
there was a 26-year-old ***** and his 43-year-old wife
smoking a bowl in my bedroom,
there was my roommate vomiting on the carpet,
there was everyone
and
there was
me.
there was everyone
and
there was
me.

i may never
see you
or be
with you,
i
will always
love you.

never forget that.

...i shall affix a sweet
red hibiscus
to you hair.
i shall live in the petals,
always near,
you
until the leaf doth wilt,
then live in
your heart
forever still.

Sway the right way, while going wrong
Delivery's weak, but his talk is strong
What's the point?
To talk lip? Impress?
To act, walk and talk slick, but the reality is that you repress
That which you need to express
The right to 'speak your mind', against 'pleasing them' takes second place
That's not right?
For a man not to be able to hold his own, stand his ground... or, if necessary
Fight
Dignity's hidden like a shadow in the night
That's what you get for conforming to the system, being 'proper'... a piece of the puzzle
Like a dog roaming the mean streets in a muzzle
I pity these people
Who always look up to others
And will never know how it feels  to be better... or even
Equal
Sad people.

There once was a poet called D,
stopped in with some strange poetry,
he began to write,
caused a pub-room fight,
then fled the scene with mad glee!

your hot little hands shoot fire in through my genitals and out through my teeth.
i SCREAM.
i strain my spine in an electric arch.
my muscles - seared from the inside out, they stick together and to my skin.
i am contorted in flames, white-heat melting my eyeballs.

                                                      ­                          gasp it’s gone

i consist of a heart and lungs in frantic motion.
all the rest has died.

i think about you all day long
no matter
how soft the thought
or dear sweet the song...

it's not like a finger
it's more like an arm
i am not a mod *******
but i do have my charm

will take you by hand or
by foot if i hafta
but i'm going down south
and make you cry 'fasta'

what nobody sees,
nobody will repeat
we can do this quick
and must be discrete

darlin', your intelligent and
i love to hear you talk
but today my name is jack
and here's my beanstalk

the more you poke at it
the more it will grow
the more i poke with it
the more you will know

grab ahold tight
and don't let go
because this moby is wild
and ready to blow

sweetheart, i love you
and now that you know
thanks for the good times
but ***** you gotta go

Broken hearts are lost, confined and chained to the wall
by a chain link fence so sharp and strong;
disabling a soul from moving on.
Combustive beating heart,
distrusting evil ****,
she ****** me over and drifted away
like a formaldehyde ****.

Leaning over your desk, staring at calculus
I learned to solve at sixteen.

I’ll direct you to the nearest solution-
You have one hour left to reach, but
Have gotten too lost to see-
If you stop to ask me.

But you won’t, so
I won’t wait.
You don’t, and
I say nothing.

Kissing slightly,
Along your t-shirt’s edge, I leave
My mouth shut
And your neck wet.

Sheets of computer paper and
Snapped mechanical pencil tips
Sprinkled with eraser bits,
Cover the floor around your feet.

You punch your calculator keys while beneath your desk
I'm on my knees.