all the produce was going bad in the refrigerator
the tulips on the coffee table had been dead for months
a filthy fan was blowing on the floor
she sat at her computer just like she thought she would
the hot day out had been wasted in a smoky room
biting her nails and such in a ***** apartment

she meant to clean
she meant to prepare for her interview on monday,
only one day left to prepare, she had wasted the whole saturday
in a smoky room on a hot day on top of that

she was afraid of the interview, her apartment needed a good cleaning, she needed to prepare for the interview
in the hot smoky room of the ***** apartment

the cycle just becomes a state of being
a never good enough state of being
because she was a realist

she finally wondered
why it always took reality so long
to show up

the thoughts are never capable
so the clothes are always too tight
with short lived pauses of too big
once they have stretched out of shape

the unemployed summer has passed
the moths and their stealthy summer nights
live on
every sweater has three holes in the exact same places

life is never where you want it to be
as you live it wearing chewed up old sweaters

well that's misspent for you
sewing them holes up with the wrong color thread
waving hello to what ever is left
something about embarrassment no longer being a deterrent

surely there is a better word for emptiness than emptiness

there is so much time for reason and hate to hold hands
these days of being out of time

of borders crossed by third world trash
who aren't even human

even the legals, have you heard about trash mountain in india?

it piles higher and higher
piles so high

all the way from india to canada, already full of garbage
but importing more garbage

ever met anyone who hates God and the Bible because he ordered his chosen to wipe out everyone of their enemies including their children?

the people of india suggest a good clue of why He did that
the **** and his dog are why he did that
beyond the point of repair

garbage mountain growing higher and higher
the indians will make the highest mountain of all
the canadians, trannies and muslims will help them build it

trash builds a mountain, who needs a God who creates mountains when trash can build mountains of trash

there is so much time for reason and hate to hold hands
these days of being out of time

of knowing fani willis will be lynched by her enablers
both fani and her enablers are trash, forfeiting their rights to humanity along with pooja and dickshit

don't you dare censor dickshit by puting an astrick by his name,
it is an indian name, a trash mountain name, you can not be a ****** enabler without allowing trash mountain to grow and grow and grow

and you cannot wear your proud badge of pride for enabling fani without supporting dickshit or trannies, glorious, glorious trannies who are men that order everyone to refer to them as women as they daydream about ****** women and children and sometimes make their dreams come true so canadians, muslims and trash mountain types can celebrate.

crumbs.

days and nights of bad days and nights
bad days without number
bad days without destiny
one thousand two hundred and sixty days
of bad days

you were in  all those bad days
an unnecessary sadness
that consumed me and consumed me

until i was nothing
until i was no one

a leather skin
on a clearance rack
before deportation

everyday i wait for the two witnesses to come
everyday i ask myself how can i unhate myself
when accepting is not an option wisest to pursue
when every day i wait for the two witnesses to come

he fatly wore the red dress
standing fatly as the  clergy
of the one true church of marxism,

most holy karla
carved, carved karla
coming for the kids

cuckold, cucked, cuck
judas pence
judas pence lives
what to do with his silver
what to do with his stagflation
fox ferried across the river
time for tomorrow
punishment for the sold soul of a nation

hope today is your first day of sorrow
hope many days of sorrow follow your first day of sorrow

the queen is dead
the third worlders do not respect the indigenous
they want but can only ruin
they hate the white man, they hate the black man
they raise worthless children
while destroying their futures
they take too much pride in the failed third world

there is no diversity in asia
there is no diversity in the middle east
they invade, they colonize,
destroy GDP's
play both sides of the fence
and lose every single time
they are never accountable,
they are never ashamed

the queen is dead
her ******* son
answers to klaus schwab
her ******* grand daughter in law
answers to trannies and the intellectually inferior

they are all supremacists who ruin everything they touch
sewage begetting sewage
proud sewage,
such proud, proud sewage

there is always a sub-iqness about them no one wants to confront

the queen is dead
when the female subjects have a phalloplasty
when the male subjects have an orchiectomy

all the chloe's, zoe's, and hanna's dry out prematurely
men will never love them
their children, if they ever have any, will detest them

the queen is dead
the offshore teams and h1b workers of india
are about to replaced by automation
because they can not reason, they can not innovate, they can not even sustain,
there is such a disgusting, murderous greed in poverty

joe biden showers with his daughter
and ***** his pants

call me in a year
after you've lost things you didn't even know it was  possible to lose

west london fire stories
burning up the day,
london fires burning down and out
before they burn away

daily all day robes
and a story i can't finish
i won't make it out, there's too much
i don't want to say

so late in the day
wasting life away
unheard singing
should probably count for something
maybe today, maybe today, maybe today
so late in the day

instant coffee,
INFP, unfinished story
cheap chinese burning debris
blazing away on the bbc
so late in the day, so late in the day, so late in the day
& the day becomes another day

must be so nice to be you
always voting for justin trudeau
all your better things to do,
all the better looking women you were born to pursue

london fires burn down and out
before they burn away
& the day becomes another day
maybe today, maybe today, maybe today

Happy, happy April Fool’s Day,
Make it a good one
Search terms searching the night away
I have gone too far away

Nothing to breathe
Pleasure and the fume
Fists of a clock
Entering a dark room

When you were younger, you sort of looked like
Lou Reed looked when he was young
Maybe not up close, I was too far away
It was too hard to see
You were all I could see
That's just who you were to me

So many, so meaningless
I could not ever make you exist
I should have kept it zipped
But I turned the vocals up just a little bit

I should have been more kind
But not to you,
I should not have lacked so much in empathy
For all those suffering around me
I should have kept them better company
But it was too hard to see
You were all I could see

so brave
so thirsty
so scott gimple

as you boldly go
declining the standard advice
instead you can drink too much
at the christmas party

so brave
so thirsty
so about to bring up bill cosby

to your co-worker's fat and loudly still racist husband
as you sit near the nice black lady who works
at the front desk, smiles at you every morning
and orders all the good stuff for the breakroom

i held on to what was left
of my unlit joint
and listened to tom petty
remembering to be afraid

what was left was wrinkled
i thought about today,
what i said, how i couldn't
all of that

sometimes he sings casa dega
it would be better to stay silent,
so much better,
but it's like i read
a conduit
too bad

i need to forget to forget
but i can't flinch from it

i remembered to be afraid
soon, soon
they'll believe everything they've heard

what was left was wrinkled
sometimes he sings casa dega

i held on to what was left

names for no one
named by no one

poems about nothing
poems about everything

aren't they the same thing?

no function, no form
but now is the hour
it's how i get through
to the next one

two packs of cigarettes a day
it is getting expensive

old heartaches aren't forgotten
when nothing takes there place
and cigarettes don't pay the rent
freeform makes people stop listening
agoraphobics don't have much to write about
but need to say something
to someone

i wish i'de never met you.
all you did was hurt me in a way
that keeps on coming back, no matter how much times go by.
it was the way you looked at me,
like i was the ugliest thing that you had ever ******
and it made you feel good to let me know.
and it got worse from there, because you threw me away
and then would sporadically write to let me know
you were gone for good.
you were a total ramsay bolton type.
some days i have a memory and can't breathe or function.
i still have nightmares of you

trying to beat me to death, calling me to list off all the things that are wrong with me.

if i can't forget you, it would be great if someone would cut off your ****. sometimes i fantasize about hiring someone to do that to you in your sleep. you could wake up dickless and i could be free of you. but back to the poem:

10 and a half years haven't gotten me anywhere
i've been too old for too long

Bob Dylan
Neil Young
Rolling Stones
Leonard Cohen
Paul Westerberg

everyone is too good for them now,
especially you,
i read that in vice

they made a list of the worst musicians of all time
and all those names were on it.

Johnny Cash was on the list too.

the pregnant husband eventually had the baby
and referred to it as a they
it would have been wrong to force a gender on the child
chromosomes and genitalia are not valid voices,
they are only systemic bigots

dangerous, yet powerless
useless but busy tools
every hour of the day

i spend the hours of the day
distracted by the sirens and helicopters
and screams of stupid infantile adults
young and old and dangerous, yet powerless
useless but busy tools

i look for signs
in all the cardboard signs
never find them
keep my money

keep the windows open
keep cold hands
keep my lighter busy
devil dancing all the way behind me

not a pretty picture
by day, a five year old child
who needs to be told what to do

if they hadn't have cut out my tongue
old boy, I'd really have a lot to say
about the guy in the purple bandanna,
hadn't seen him in months, but he re-emerged
recently,
he is still short, his hair is still curly
he still carries himself importantly

looking so ridiculous to me
it's been mean out lately

a woman is yelling at him
he calls her a ****
she keeps right on yelling
she really has a lot to say

she keeps on walking away in both directions
and she keeps on coming back

she is not going to shut the **** up

my window was so open
they could have just come in
and got me

had i had a heart attack
they were high enough
on their ladder
they were close enough
putting out a fire

it would have been perfect timing
my window was so open
they could have just come in
and got me

my brother introduced me
to tom petty

i came here by mistake
my ten year nightmare
all for no one, all for nothing
last five by mistake
i came here by mistake

i mistook you

king, king nothing
the saddest thing
all the possibility you kept on killing
everything about you
will always be too mean

i mistook you

back in chicago
back then
sleepless in the dark
at least i wasn't back in seattle
back then

i met someone i didn't know
i'de wish i never left unknown
back in chicago

yes, you got the guillotine
as previously mentioned
any culture that beheads
renders itself subhuman

first you started with voluntary castration
and applauded every man who dug a rotting hole
in his center

and now tries to fill it up with censorship

there is a developmentally delayed generation
unprepared to rule or even function
they read animal farm and 1984 and completely miss the point
they take to the streets begging for masters
they scream for segregation and unequal opportunity
they want authoritarian rule to command them how to think
and what to say,
they have no use for God and even less use for science,
unless it can be biased

soon they will be screaming for the rights of the *******
how predictable, the enemies of reason come in every color

joyce smokes cigarettes
she pays  around $8.50 a pack
but never has any money for food
after being poor, then still poor,
then poor again

love in the inbetween
dead to poor again
that's the order,

in this instance
there is no food in the house
just a trailer in her backyard
too close to a far away place
where her granddaughter does not feel safe

a state of standstill is a state of decline
an excess of sediment, an ineffective wine

i only hear that defining moment of time
in the less and less frequent creaking of the keys
the same old letters sadly clack

but can't ever get it back
heart's not in it
can't stay ******
overreactions come to attack

an embarrassing pervert that you already *****
every hour since a desperate hour
wolf crying wolf every five seconds
where the collective cower

****** is always his death name
dont wear it out
wear it where the collective cower

every hour since a desperate hour
hands in the pockets
of that dress with pockets

calling out his death name
when the coming time comes

wolf hands caught in the pockets
of that dress with the pockets