Broken window panes cause window frames to to look like gaping maws
ready to cut the meat from the bone
slashing ribbons of red through pale flesh
rivulets of crimson blood pour down the smooth sharp teeth
the glistening glass gathers in the grass that lays at the foot of the window
sparkling like stars in the green beyond
thousands of years will pass before it becomes dirt once more
a thousand years of wondering who broke the window
and why
who created that hungry mouth waiting to devour
were they trying to get in
or get out
the house answers with its creaks and groans
knowing all
saying nothing

seedy motels crowded with undesirables
shooting up
smoking ****
toothless ******* for a fix
welcome to America
home of the brave
and the crack den
what a beautiful country ours is
majestic purple mountains
slick black tar ******
amber waves of grain
skid row and soup kitchens
the struggle to survive
we fight to stay alive
land of the free
but free has hidden fees
free love?
Aids'll stop ya
free health care?
Get out you ****** *******
free speech?
Only if you don't mind mace
Here the dom in freedom means *******
******* of the free
we go through it all like marionettes
glassy eyed and blank faces
our strings pulled by wealthy men
we become older and older until death
and don't forget the debt
that will be your children's problem

watched a bird
die
right before my feet
crashed into a window
and laid broken on the ground
smart ******* bird
got out while it still could
I pictured his birdy wife
and bridy kids
finding out the news
their tears begin to stream
I stared into the birds dead eyes
silence
save for the faint wisp of one last breath
stillness
a life snuffed
nudged it with my toe
then gave it a good kick
and I walked away with a smile
and a new grasp of human superiority

***** and nicotine
just can't seem to leave me be
drink and smoke when I awake
till I black out to fall asleep
and with every cigarette I smoke
I make myself a drink
and with every drink I drink
I have myself a smoke
the thick cloud of grey-black smoke fills the lungs
it's seething fumes claw and scratch
corrupt every crevice of my tar sacks
smoke is like a toddler
destroying everything it touches
but you just can't seem to hate it

I create to live
it's killing me
people joke about the starving artist
that brood and smoke
their imported cigarettes
and whine about lack of funds
I am a starving artist
artist in the least sense
broke in the most
not a single cent I have to spend
I'm questioning my ability
to survive just one more day
I always do
what a shame

A normal day
Sitting in front of a blank page
Writing what comes to mind
But not writing anything
And I am fighting back the urge to *****
My stomach builds up disgust for my lack
Of creativity
And even if I were to hurl
All over the blank page
My ***** would have more substance than the words that come to mind