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Life arrived at through circular escalation
Chasing death the whole day through
Place the dot on the outside
Let it burn and settle in the retina
Microscopic from an angle
Clear as day in the sun
Try to catch a worm
But they slide
They glide
Swim
In
I
"Who needs rules? Rules are for fools! I'm the King of the Bees!"
              - Buzby, the King of the Bees*

Today the dank atmosphere brought down heavy curtains of fine high thread count cotton a magic carpet ride for a colony of lost bed bugs sturdy and steady so steady and sturdy it crushes my back when it descends down down down to crush the ever loving **** out of me so I pretend to pray

Pretend to pray because all my life I seem to have gotten it wrong they must have wanted more than I could give I couldn't talk to.someone I couldn't see and who who would at least acknowledge that I was being listened jim Morrison loudly proclaimed "YOU CANNOT PETITION THE LAWD WITH PRAYAH" time I thought that seemed pretentious but though I don't doubt the possibility that the LAWD may in his ****** way answer some of those impertinent petitions I a.) don't know those people or b.) slightly resent the fact that he's done so much for swindlers, charlatans, and scammers but never saw fit to send me the super sized blessing we been waiting for

But I was provided for and for that I am grateful tomorrow I'll be dispatched to see the grade school kiddies (just before they get slapped with a  handfuls of mercenary stew)
This  p
an suffocates

Maybe for the sleepy
A song
"We won't wake up tomorrow
So celebrate
On the ***** blvd
With Lou Reed
I'm good for nothing
In a world
Where Gertrude Stein
Is considered influential
She writes rolling rivers
Rushing rapids to drown in
Bitter algae laced salt water
But no rocks
No branches to reach out for
To grab and get your bearings
It is what it is blessed relativism
Feet in the enemy's camp
I stare aghast as the coven chants
Worshipping the inscrutable
Collection of letters, words, sentences
All placed in the service of...
A preference for emotion over reason
Because Reason won't stop laughing at the impertinence.
Perhaps Gertrude Stein's childhood home is for sale
I'd buy it and sleep in it and keep all the Stein groupies outside where they belong
They've no business being allowed inside
To sully up the detritus of innocence with their confusing, convoluted badly misjudged critique of Stein's cosmic joke
I would like to make a prediction. Post-modern poetry will be followed by an anarchic "anything goes" mentality that will tear apart language as surely as it tore apart a genius poet/songwriter who probably wouldn't have spoken of his songs as if they were poems but whose lyrics transcended modernism and post modernism to inhabit a dark sphere of truth until the day he died. And truth is hard to come by. Too many people thinkTHEIR version of the truth, embellishments and all, is the preferred version of the truth
Delusional *******
They all wind up on the floor
Begging for *****
Pus dripping from scab-crusted sores
I write under my own name
A crushing weight of fear and shame
To remind myself
During times when I needed reminding
I'm good with alphabet soup
Words flow almost easy
Pulling your own teeth form your gums
A piece of spinach clings to my left incision
So that when I open my mouth
Just long enough to crack a smile
The spinach is a flat blackgreen
In dark environments
I may have scared a lot of people
Children in general
Without mincing words
My tooth is falling of of its own accord
I dare you to put in your mouth

I'm here to run off the John Mellencamps
To take the tops of the female hippies
Toss them into the air and stand back
They are going to crime like mommas
Missing their daddies
And daddies missing their sons

Melodrama don't care
He's got a 2/@@©aS
He's outta he-hurt
Making appointments with a guy sell small tortilla chips
But he expects that from melodrama

Nobody expects her to fall asleep in a large silk bed
But she does, and the only thing she should be concerned
about.
They may well lying on their stomach
Laying their heads on the ground so they could
Hear what's going on down there.

Wouldn't you like to know.
No! I do not want to watch her
I'm not feeling sorry for myself anymore
Though you may perceive it otherwise
I'm not wallowing in melancholia
As if it were the only drug
I'm addicted to
It isn't

In death, perhaps
I can slough off all these dead weights
That bar the entrance to my heart
That block joy and lasting happiness
That keep me from loving you
That keep me distant and alone
That keep the thoughts, judgments, cynical tainted observations
From mattering enough to mean anything

The responsibilities of life
Hit me too hard
I was too young
Forty years later
I'm still reeling
Stunned
But I'm not feeling sorry for myself
Because everyone carries a cross
God Himself brings the hammer and spikes
Just hanging around waiting for you to
Find a place to lay down and die
Nowhere on earth seems good enough

I'm not feeling sorry for myself
I'm just feeling sorry
Because for every moment of peace
Contentment and satiation
A fortnight of confusion
Despair and uncertainty

O, what a life
Gotta find a new way
To scribble the pencil on paper
To draw letters and words
Sentences and paragraphs
Chapters and books
Because there's just too much going on
In my mind
It's like a cement mixer filled with rock and mud
Turning 'round and 'round
Mixing that **** into concrete
You can put your hands on the spread product
And the imprint will dry in the block
Forever for to contrast the size of your hand today
With the size of your hand in 25 years
(Barring a catastrophe that demolishes the concrete)

Always hoped my mind would be a deep well into which could be thrown a cavalcade of essentials,
Knowledge, wisdom
Intellect
I've kept my mind open for them
And yet they weigh me down
They make me feel awful, like being squeezed across the chest by the not particularly strong arms of an aging circus  sideshow barker

Take what you will
Lighten my load
For Gods sake take the fear
Of being happy without feeling this ominous depression

This is the point where I rail against how unfair it is that in Colorado and a few other enlightened states marijuana is given due credit for it's medicinal propensities while 10 hours away in Oklahoma you can still be thrown in jail for possessing even a small amount.

People, scoff if you will
I need medicinal marijuana
I know that nothing else is going to bring me a modicum of joy such as it has for so many years

And I know it's wrong to be more excited about hooking up than in communing with God, meditating and contemplating on His Holy Name.
It's wrong
It's got to be a sin, obsessing about ***
While my desire for God wanes and
Flutters like a flag at a losing race
I'm sorry I feel this way
But I do
O Jesus I trust total honesty
Means a lot more to you
Than puttin' on the show
Pasting phony smiles
and lying, making out like their love for Someone they've never seen is consuming them with the same passion had it been a new boyfriend or a special girlfriend with flesh and blood and sinew and tendon and breathing heart and beating lung
Speaking words
Emitting odors
Skin to pinch
Glorious laughter in your ears
Guffawing at your stupid jokes, she likes you!
Mikey liked you, dear, I know that means a lot
Maybe ask them if they want to go see God with you
But if they don't you'll be disappointed
And if you're as depressed as I am
You'll stay home and hope they'll decide to hang with you

Because there's too much information
There are too many idiots walking the terra of this country
Too much misunderstanding
Too much pressure
Too much unloving intolerance
Too many headaches
Too much wringing of the hands.
Mister, you wouldn't recognize Jesus on the street if He personally placed your hand in His side
You don't want to know him, do you?
The Truth is a terrifying concept
Don't get too close to it, get burned by the light
You can't handle the truth, afraid you'll see it in the mirror
So you hoist the beam from both your eyes
Because someone said if you did that you could judge rightfully
But you didn't get that the beam wasn't a literal object , that it in fact could not be removed
None but the Christ Ever had the right to judge you
He judges from love, always seeing the value in the man, long past forgiven all sins
But they'll run from Him
I think he'll giggle, knowing they'll eventually come around
Maybe he'll have to show them
But for right now I don't see Him
My faith may be weak
But I need some ******* relief
I have a feeling He wouldn't mind
If nothing else He'd be pleased that it made me feel like living again

Scuse me while I load a bowl
Let me get a few tokes
Then you come back
And I guarantee you'll notice
A much friendlier, social man
Relaxin'
Comin' in for a crash landing
After a week exploring man-made weaknesses in the Ozone layer
It ain't no easy ride
But ya gotta come down, man
Yeah ya gotta go home
Don't ya?
It's like high dollar paste or glue
That binds me belly-down to this bed
Deceptively soft and comfortable
Mother, where are you?
Oh, Father, why don't I care?
I would still recognize your voice
Even if my eyes have forgotten what you look like
Do I expect forgiveness
If so tell me what for
You seemed to always want more
When my best was all I could give
How could I have known
It wasn't enough
Nothing can stop this train
No adequate force
Relaxin'
This is decompression
Sleep come down
Mama...
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