reward your beast--
but love him dear.
keep your bullwhip
always near.

for at a feast
or in the field
a beast is eyeing up his meal

and yes right now!
to your chagrin...
your love has met the beast within.

there's a leg
ooh! there's an arm
and what could that be?
love, dis-armed.

i woke up in disparate pieces,
it was hard to reign them in
we don't always get along
but i can try to reign them in

if you just can't stay together
you'll be leaning on the weather
and your body will point several ways
to teach us all a lesson.

i woke up with that old puzzle
love was buzzing on my nightstand
a project i've been working on,
i need to beat the dead line.

it's cold self-separated,
hope my love can stand the weather
i'm hopeful and i'm naked
will my love come back together?

in time,
in time,
the light will make you cry
in time,
in time,
we fall

in time,
in time,
there's so much more than just your life
in time,
in time,
we fall

i woke up with just one chance
but i didn't respect my love
now i have an ugly scar
because i didn't respect my love

when your heart is just a way
to pump TV static to a wilting brain
then your body will point several ways
and teach us all a lesson.

i woke up past six alarms
love was buzzing on my night stand
a project i've been working on
now it seems i missed my deadline

but i made a teacher of the sky,
she said, "Alright, just this one time
I'll let you slide

Yeah, just this time...
I'll let you slide."

in time,
in time,
the light will make you cry
in time,
in time,
we fall

in time,
in time,
there's so much more than just your life
in time,
in time,
we fall

there's a desolate wasteland
that chokes the land of milk & honey
so it's supersaturated,
not every joke he tells is funny

so if a part of you
should wander off
then call a headcount
and keep your party single-file
'cause there's only one way out.

in time,
in time,
the light will make you cry
in time,
in time,
we fall

in time,
in time,
there's so much more than just your life
in time,
in time,
we fall

i wanna feel proud to call me home!

i wanna move across the world like a comb:
i wanna leave it answered
sinch the world shut with a handsome smile,
stitch me right up for the next few miles,

i know...

things've been fine,
but things could be great if i really tried!
and now i'm in need of a surefire man
to put fire in your life.

and new fire in your eyes.

help me, i'm talking to the mirror...
i need
a very certain man.
a sure- surefire man.
healthy conversations with a mirror...
i see
a very certain man.
a sure- surefire man.

i wanna be loud in my own home!

i just want a place
where i don't have to be an adult,
and that's my final answer
my number one goal til i die from cancer

i know...
there's so much more to life
but i made it through ****
like punk rock wades through strife

and now i'm in need of a surefire man
to put fire in your life.

and new fire in your eyes.


help me, i'm talking to the mirror...
i need
a very certain man.
a sure- surefire man.
healthy conversations with a mirror...
i see
a very certain man.
a sure- surefire man.

i see the quantum of a phoenix
i see the calibrated pieces
i see a chance to make this right

don't blink if you think you see it
but you just might not believe it
you've got a chance to make this right!

help me, i'm talking to the mirror...
i need
a very certain man.
a sure- surefire man.
healthy conversations with a mirror...
i see
a very certain man.
a sure- surefire man.

help me, i'm drowning in glass
i need
to get off of my ***
(i need a very certain man
i need a sure, surefire man)
healthy conversations with death
i see
a broken ******* mess!
(and a very certain man
i see a sure, surefire man.)

so whose pocket
does the universe fold up and fit into?

it could be yours,
if the music hits you at just the right moment
eternalizing the moment in which you were Ready...

you'll know because
a piece of that infinity will break off
and collide with your brain,
reminding you it's really yours--
no strings attached:

this is a steady stream of gravity,
winding through fields of Paradoxes,
rolling into a world...
where that's what they call

daisies.

i hesitate to face the music,
to me it seems locked up, strange
cold, exclusive, mocking

this can't be the one
that fits in my pocket...

but what's reaching me from across the rift,
over fields of Paradox-daisies
yes, up through the sewer drains!
and straight to my brain?

Aquarius, with her basket of water from Anywhere
taking me just a little closer with every drop
stretching the limit, the border, the shape
illusion soup

now the f- f- fold is ... easy

did i stutter?
answer that one til your savior comes with a sickle,
a novelty, or (dare i say it?)
an improvement.

and you were so sure it wasn't me.

an ineffable kernel belied your definition.
you are formlessness pulling on the fabric just so,
giving rise to form
drinking foreign waters
and not at all considering every possible dimension!

sweet generosity spun me with her usual companion,
i guess you're well-acquainted with the smell...

you just knew it when i opened my mouth
t- t- to speak,

an honest and familiar chemical reaction
here on Earth.

well mama, i know you're sweet
but it's your bitterness that really gets me high
ever since i saw life from
...that other side

the side where you gave me the cash
and i spent it on ****
trading future solidarity for THC
losing our love
to a self-righteous heat death...

the side where a butterfly stood by
but never meant to laugh at jesus Christ

see mama? melting my body is easy
we both do it all the time
with sugar, water
or fate's many flames,
which cauterize the fortunate
so many things
that make me melt...

but i'm making brand new molds
(so scattered, mind the scaffolds!)
and if you want, when you feel lonely
you can run your fingers over it,
feel me working in time
and letting in shame
for a walk in my shoes

...to buy himself a new costume
for the party we've been invited to

with enough luck, i'll get really high
and apologize for not dressing,
tell them Rocky came to party

so what if i make the bed before i leave the house?
will my head feel more organized in a clean room,
will i be that much closer to the person
i want to be?

a swirl of white creative light,
a long, long talk with a palette--
the messy room of a man
who's just not there yet.

this half-artist loves
a loose order
and letting his room be moved
by higher forces

so what is quivering within him?

why such a tease?
an initial fluttering
perhaps (he prays)
before the first real flap of the wings.

but now,
see the rustle of complete dissolution
ah, yes
there and there, and ... almost there--
(so close!)
may overcome his maiden voyage yet.

******!
All your life:
Moonlit, drunk on ******.

be the juiciest meatsack,
i mean, really govern your meat
let your meaty dance of love
mean satan's defeat.

success is on the way
if you just arrange your meat
in the right configuration
for success to come your way.

and hey now, if it doesn't
well... don't you look at me
i slashed all of your tires
but i live inside the sea,

i'm just your secret admirer!
but that doesn't always mean
that i have the best intentions
for the peace inside your dream.

so juice on, little meatsack
i was joking, by the way
i guess i'm just the doctor
that welcomed you to this *******.

woops

well yeah,
i guess you could make anything sad
if you fought hard enough.

funny,
some people seem to fight pretty hard.

...

not me.

i figure, i'm alive to do things that make me happy, eh?
seems obvious enough.

but some people, man...
especially nowadays
some people love their sadness.

it never bothered me, you know
to each his own and everything,
except the ones who are really choosing it.

you know what i mean?
it's a reflex we all have:
you see somebody making a big deal over some petty ****,
you squash 'em.
you tell 'em, "stop whining buddy."

"aye, better luck next time."

"don't be a sore loser."

and that's half the world's problem, i swear it
is sore losers!
that right there is gonna get you in a lot of trouble...
and it's just downright wasteful!

i mean,
i just hate to see a good meatsack go spoiled.

well didn't you like the rain!
wasn't it soothing?
when it fell straight into your fancy receptacle,
cooling your blood
as it ran through those luxurious tubes
that surround your body?

well isn't it soft,
when a pretty girl lets you bottom out
in her bed
and on her couch?

well wasn't the rain so lovely,
when November couldn't be everything you wanted,
you had to reschedule that brunch with Bernice--
and you wrote a little poem
about how nice the rain is
in the fall.

well i don't like the rain at all!

it's wet and it's cold
when you can't sleep
and you can't get a job.

and i tried
a lot harder
than you did.

life's just a fairytale,
and i'm the cast of robin hood:
it's easy,
you just steal from the rich and give
to...
the needy.

but for all these Vagabonds! so wasteful of my grace...
oh, what a sad story to tell your mom!
when what you thought was grace
was just a lot of wasted time...
and that clever green outfit that made me iconic!
so convincing it was, that I was carrying off the goods
and sneaking them to a better place.

just another budding alternative artist, no?

but the whole town knew about it--
we all knew you were misled,
on some goose hunt pipe dream
whatever you want to call it--
so many of them get like that,
it's really a pain in my ***...

now the town has him surrounded
and we're just waiting to see
what he has to say for himself
i bet he doesn't expect this...
they're planning to use him for the heist!

(i know)

and isn't it sometimes such a rough art...
being human?

tightly bound in a symmetrical web of muscle,
her skull is her chariot in this world
she's a solid arrow
pointing in the direction of her faith,
though you claim to have none,
sharp--and brimming with love,
though you claim
to be so empty,

heedless of their jabs and grabs,
the engine is alive in blue coals
held there by one who knows something
deeper there, somewhere inside...

and when the system breaks down
she holds her grace.
so much is vibrant with this woman
pushing past her definition
iron strong
but nothing's normal--
just the way
i like it.

it's been a hard road since we lost control
i can't get right

.
the setting is a walk-in closet, because i was in a walk-in closet when i had this sudden weird daydream. the guys are really drunk hanging out at one of their houses after a party

James Franco (checking on a friend): to the tune of "The Big Bang" by Rock Mafia, sorta stage-whispery and drunk-in-a-closet-y

The Big Big Bang,
The reason for ma ****,
The shorties wanna bang
and all i can say is

(FRANCO pulls aside, placing hand on forehead as if to see something in the distance)

DANGGGG

JONAH HILL is already sitting in corner, rolling way too hard and crouching over a trash can.

Jonah (totally wasted): The Big Bang isn't the reason for your ****, Franco.

SETH ROGEN was tailing Franco, and butts in.

Seth: Actually, Jonah, it totally is. The Big Bang created everything.

Jonah: (looks aghast)

FRANCO AND SETH turn to each other, brimming with laughter

Seth: He's realizing it!

Jonah: (pukes into trash can)

Franco: And I guess he'll realize the rest of it later, huh? (winks)

JAMES FRANCO leaves the closet, locking the other two behind him without hands. He then proceeds to the kitchen, followed by a trail of fire, as if there were a spontaneous trail of gasoline. As the room fills with smoke, banging is heard from the unfortunate souls in the closet. It sounds gay. FRANCO'S eyes glow red like coals and he laughs an awful, bass, demon laugh. It was just edited by a computer though, that wasn't real. FRANCO removes a bagel from the freezer. He microwaves it. *******.

there is something so eloquent about
you,
there is something so wrong about being
blessed
something so right about being
me

and i think a large part of that is actually you,
with your
lessons
and
good vibes
and
sweet exercise.

it's just true.

a dizzy name, a silly song
an old, cracked joke
a dried bouquet.

when Marshall realized Lilly was,
in fact,
being just a little selfish,
and Ted coached the appropriate response.

moments like that.

like why did i hang for so long?

right,
but,
there's strong truth to that too,
when maybe it was just her style
her lust for life that was so hot
so exact, it was love
maybe she just stole all your breath
and never
*******
gave it back.

i don't care if you're married,
i don't care if you're open or closed
older or colder or kinder or both
i don't care if we hug
i don't care who knows
but i'll be ******
if i never see you again,

Disa.

YOLO
doesn't apply to me
because I
am a cat,
and cats live nine times.

(the poem is over)

YOU *******' *****,
look at you!
reading poetry

*****

stray marksstray marks
stray marksstray marksstray marks
stray marksstray marks
stray marksstray marks

stray marks. stray marks.

stray stray marks stray marks

straaaay marks, straaaay marks.

straaaay marks. stray

marks. stray

marks

kid, you broke the world.

i heard there's latin-speaking catboys harassing musical artists
i heard he's a wizard with one bleached eye
i heard he swallowed a sunflower seed as a boy and now it's growing out his ***--
sounds painful--
anyway i heard you can see it through a window, he lets everyone in.

i heard he's got something for hayley and derek and soupy...

i heard him singing the other day,
and *******
was it different from the first time i heard him sing.

he can SING
i heard a sharp guitar splashing in the mud
but sometimes,
sometimes it rains

(in Texas!)

kid, if you're god
if you're holding back on us
just let a brother know,
right?

but it was a mutual disagreement.

fruition came to those who sought it really,
and even though i never said i'm sorry,
i'm sorry.

and i still say it
cause it's true.

this is the institution of my heart.
this is the institution of my heart.
this is the institution
this is the institution of my heaaaaaart

it's starting to look like
this whole thing's
just gonna fall apart

but we do this anyway.

with schools and courthouses,
banks and parks.

almost made a correction
owed to stubborn insurrection
almost changed, "we"
to "they"

if you find me with an opened throat
if you meet me in a tattered coat
find the warmth left in my body
find that warmth left in my body
and call it ours,
call it ours.

oh i have it,
i'm just not giving it
oh, i heard you
i'm just not listening
oh, i'm a star
but i'm just not glistening
i've got a lot of love
for the kids who ***** and hiss.

you're a ******* though,
and you know it
but you carry on with this *******
because you just can't take it anymore,
and you just think that's really cool,
or something...

i guess--

yeah.
different points of your life are so **** awkward,
but you live to pierce the atmosphere with your ruby glow
or ride through the night on your burrito-bought CR-V
you pray for fame but you won't receive it if you don't work for it
you just have to get through this time
oh, what a *******

fold me in
and in again
pages full of sand, palm trees, blue skies

the gulf is strange and alien,
greenish,
and at night the moon howls like the punctured sky
because i am so insane
because i got here so ...fast.

cars fly to and from the sea,
spinning me

my weathervane will eventually build a surrounding ...structure.
what i lack in confidence i make up for in sensitivity
don't you feel both sides working?
don't you wanna feel both sides working?
but for now i'll dream of prototypes
like leonardo's flying machine.

and she,
she is way too casual with adamant muscles
talking, walking, everything coolly
with a strong knot of muscle in the middle

we walk into the moon with beads of hope
just condensation on our hearts
that collects and glows
when we fall asleep

my love
she is noir-et-blanc
she sits by
the riverbanks
of my eyes;
she swims inside.

she swims and swims and swims inside
she swims, comes up to rest again

and what do you think?
mi amor, esta
colorida.
pero todo lo que ella sabe
is a world that makes her
black or white.

when it comes to precious,
beating hearts...
where is there room for grey?
and so,
she is noir-et-blanc
while holding many shades:

for there upon deliberation
on the precipice
lives the product of a life
under working eyes--

is she fair or stormy-skied,
do her flowers grow?
could you build a house on her?
and is she high, or low?

my twisted little heart has grown to hate romance
inject it with liquor
and it'll grow a little more

rose petals lose themselves on the wind
only destined to be a passing look

some get caught on fences
and some get caught
in my mind

but none of them taste good for very long
i'm always tearing out pieces of myself and watching them decay
you're always watching me do that
and it's never comfortable, no
no just go away

don't watch me do this

the second we touch we go stale
unless we nurture the fountain together
we respect its gentle graces and
FIST IT IN THE ***
******* stupid fountain
WHERE DID YOU COME FROM

silver hair
falls into view
the morning dew
and air pulled tight
for my composition

she has made a fool of me, and now
it's time
for us
to fly
around
the moon

he is the carnival bear
with the best balance
on two wheels
he traverses sketchy curb cuts
and stays upright,
stays cool

Reek is squirming again
I can’t get him off my back
He clobbers himself in the head with
Sticks made out of bacon

I swear my life would be normal
If the world would just let me
I talk to myself all day
And **** your autumn moon,

It’s a little distant from me now
As I settle into this luxury deathsack it’s weird,
I find I’m still ****

What a load of crap

i love the way you think,
i just wanna *** inside you.

he was a pet name
of troubled origin!

maybe a little more
than just a floating face
with some business behind it.

anyway, i wonder about her dead cat
hers, not schrodinger's
and find myself once in a sea of people.

some of them are weird,
some i haven't yet met
and maybe that's what weirds me out the most
is that i'm only approximately real.

oh, for the love of god...

someone grab me a Dos Equis.

a voice that belongs to the winds of the wilderness
strong thighs running like the Susquehanna through its cold, grey morning
she speaks from the hearth of her gut of a lust for life
dives through the waves and into the distance
never to be seen again

oh what a sad, sad
story you have spun
you've turned yourself a-
way from everyone

and what a sad tune
oh, i almost
believe you
i wonder what you're up to (too).
but at least i'm not like you

black snowflakes
a fancy word for ashes
never held, never reached for any office to burn
as i'm sure they would
if i rammed my head through the wall
like i want to
like you did
like you always wanted to
...

"your bloom will only reach so far"
yeah, that's what the warden'd have you think
you may just find from your guitar
entire universes spring

you'll only speak so many tongues
you'll only be one human song
how small you are indeed, my friend
but there are songs that never end

where surely definition stops--
but wait, that's flowing through your mind
i'm wearing out this lyrical style!
i wonder what else i could find...

but settle down you ******* madman
the passers by, they'll start to stare
oh, settle down you worry wart
and don't you know i never cared

Jayson, Jayson
Jayson knows
Oh Jayson he knows what I mean
He'll beat his drum all the way 'Om
something here should rhyme with 'mean'

But Matt, you really should consider
Crystallizing something, bitter
Tastes the moment when you ramble
Ramble, ramble
Ramble, ramble.

in your clothes,
life is different
i can leave my body
and pay yours a visit
what i can't see
around your eyes
tears at me,
an Obscurity.

but without Me,
you'd be a void
at very least,
i'd be annoyed...
an envelope,
signed and sealed
empathy
is it a thing
to avoid?

but all the way,
you start to realize
starts to fray
starts to unrealize
false apart
you'll never get there
nerve on a nothing
nothing on--
the nerve!

so would you like to dance with me
sweet adeline, sweet mary sue?
sweet jessica and macy lou?
and emily and rachel too?
penelope and hot winona
soft-skinned grace
and fine fiona?
but never stacy
sorry, love
avert your eyes & kiss the sun

want to praise you
don't just want to complain

sometimes i don't think
i panic
spout gibberish into the night
call it life

he doesn't want to know
his clothes are rags
or they deserve to be
when he doesn't care about the five dollars to buy the tool to fix his car
i did
but also,
did not
in so many ways i bought alcohol instead
decades later
he is vomiting, retching down the road
they don't feel bad
but they are disgusted
because they know
he chose this for himself

we string our pasts along behind us
like his decrepit old toy train on a rope
to others
they are jokes

they just care about the brawn
they want a fine and well-spoken soldier
well i've got one thing down

you are like ice into another dimension,
where everything goes to freeze and be perfect
you are like the love of my life
only different
deader
containing the definition of anything that tries to be penultimate

collapsing the heads of babies
perhaps in that bedroom
she spins their deaths to a sweet scent

but i can never quite capture your essence
because you're not some viking queen
in fact, it was never about the turner girl at all
more just about this moment
right here

oh, you let me down
this is as far as i can go
oh, you make me sad
what a sad world you've created

oh, you hurt my stomach
you're one with my pain
i just need a scapegoat
i don't need a name

sometimes traumatized people
develop a sick addiction
they love to suffer in silence.

you know, the world is a trauma
it bruises the conscience
aware that you'll die
well then, why even bother?

for some of us **** fits like lock and key
for others the mission
was one for the annals

for others they nap while the puzzle awaits
looking golden,
they let it fade
day by day

what a sad fate for them,
so lazy and frayed
to choose your demise
when you could choose to win.

no, the sky is not blue
it is gritty,
and tan

now it's black
hard to breathe
but the sun
's on my back.

no, the sky is not blue
and it couldn't spawn you
all your mecha,
and ****
all the ****
that you rock

never practiced guitar
i just noodled around
never wrote out a novel
just sat on the ground
and arranged different leaves
with the things that i found
back when textbooks and teachers
to my life were bound

my head in the sand
i'll die an old man
let down, high and dry
by a lazy, scared boy shaking
like a leaf
oh, that was almost something
let's keep it

*what is litotes again
what is ...paraprosdokion?

you play with arrogance and humility like some sort of mad chemist,
scared to call you a virtuoso for all the places you go.

bobbing and weaving in and out of traffic
you're in and out of consciousness
clinging to a cute raft
slowly melting in the sun

oh, just push me over
my ego will give you one
last
good
scream

i wasted my time
what a shame
now just silence that whiny voice
'cause my ears are ringing

woke up wanting ecstasy,
let's not.

let's first get to the party
let's grow our mind green
and learn once again
to feel
a beat.

woke up wanting ecstasy,
brought your laptop to the lobby
looked for jobs
(and not just hobbies)
looked for love
and not just drugs.

you don't have to face it.

you can just fold fleshy time
into the space where you hurt kandace,
or into cracks in the pavement
hit it with drugs like round-up for god's good garden,
you don't have to face it

tell them your blood's black instead
of red,
do this by telling them your blood's still red--
oh what
did you ever
mean?

there was never a nuclear bomb to hide away
it started with just a rattling on the left axle
but you kept bailing out

you were never mister celebrity jesus
you were Himself,
but
you don't have to face it.

Sometimes you can wear just
ORANGE,
But it is a bit much.

You can make it work,
But maybe it feels a bit...
OVERDONE.

Like from the rip,
It feels like we've talked about this way TOO MUCH.

Like,
I've never been the OBVIOUS ONE
The one that you seek or the one you expect...
And sometimes if I'm feeling it I can turn RED,
But down towards the bottom and off to the left--
That's ORANGE,
That's nothing's wrong with my head
I'm just different you know it you learn to accept
Orange obnoxious amazing in bed
Orange orange orange

Darling don't hang on
To clown trinkets,
And let a mad druggist ***** clunker
Go hurling off into the night

When we connect
We break apart

Here's to healing...
There's to art.

I'd rather spend my life wondering
Than to wound you in good conscience
Because they act like it's cool
Say it's just another broken rule

To pick it apart... is good!
Because you will see
The truth will rest on bare bedrock
The responsibility rests on the body you haul around
Driving that car places you know you shouldn't **** around

And we will end your vacation quickly,
Pull you in close and tell you how we really feel,
O Times
Because you are a *******,
Never meant to rule the world with plastic hands.

There's love in that muscle
Love sparked between bodies spun by nucleotides
Nucleotides rolling around and reacting in the mud
Making fools and heroes and liars and cynics of us

I'd love a strong core
I'd love to meet someone
And show them who I am
And to find more love in that world

I'd hate to be abandoned
And be all alone
And feel worried
And insulted
And told in different ways
That I don't matter

This is my treasure.

Doesn't it mean anything to you?