Dear God we need to leave this town, friends!
Please don't let me abandon you all here
shivering in underemployment
The West is calling with a Daniel "BOOM,"
the South whispers in a mountain mama window pat
Other countries laugh at us,
but will we join their jeers,
show them we are not just circus bears?
Multi-national parasites,
we're too trivially divided to terminate
O God, how my leisure hours went,
so much faster than the work room's ones
without any vent
I complained and complained
to my friends and fam on the phone,
but the time just spiraled stagnant
like a slow spirit taking six thousand years to explore a too small habitat
I haven't got nearly so long.

Killed a moth on principle last night
I saw it outside standing on my air-conditioning
Then I found it inside after I turned my air-conditioning off
Climbed in through the silent vent
and orbited my light bulb l006 times
Before I killed it with a sock
and whipped it one more time into the lamp’s brass base
Almost saved a moth on principle last night
Rationality’s a sham and you know it
The moth said in the morning
I found it clung to my lampshade, dead
with white **** coming out from under a wing ripped in half
Life is a sham we all share

I gotta salvage my siding
Homie's helping me fix a
hole in the wall
and it's grueling

Other goals today:
Make a Thanksgiving leftover sandwich
don't eat meat on weekdays but I
cheated on Thursday when
at dinner with my parents
Ma won't take no for an answer
for to-go plates
I'm thankful I
still don't live with my folks

I wish I lived alone here
in my home by the river
but gotta save wishes for Xmas
where I'm sure to eat too much
give and receive pointless ****
Every year ma and pop say it'll be
more low key
Imma just gonna get
down in the bass clef my **** self
How vegan is OE?

A gray cat with a white tummy sat upright in his owner’s living room. Yet, it was his living room, too he thought. Though he only perceived the lower half of their bodies, Tom felt he had fooled the humans into relinquishing nearly all their luxuries to him. Their food, their sitting spots, their sleeping spots. Yet, the humans would not let Tom enjoy these luxuries in complete freedom. Sometimes, when Tom laid on the couch or in the bed, he was kicked onto the floor - but that wasn’t the worst of it.  Whenever Tom put together a sandwich using every single item available in the kitchen, Tom’s owner’s plucked the violin strings clear out of him, with broom whacks and concrete body slams.

“No food until you catch that mouse, ya stupid cat!” they’d yell.

Some nights - as he watched his beneficiaries drive off to the opera nightclub - Tom pondered his predicament. So if I catch this mouse, I get free reign over the house. He thought. Unlimited fridge access and legendary furniture spots. Mmmmm. Better catch me a mouse. Tom chuckled.
            
Mice came and went throughout the house, but one always remained. Jerry. In fact, all of the mice coming through the house only came over to chill with Jerry!

Tom stooped low to the ground in a pounce and placed his eyes millimeters from Jerry’s pint sized stance. Jerry felt as though he was pierced by a slew of razors. When Tom quickly relaxed his gazed and let out an enormous sigh.

“There is no magic ideal is there Jerry? ”Tom asked “We’re enchantingly random. Just automatic creatures with base desires. I hunger in the void, so I still want nothing more than food from the human fridge.  In this universe, and a number more, I will pursue what seems the easiest means to human food, whether hunch or trick, or, right or wrong.”

And it comes with some pain the the bullies from our childhood were a result of social Darwinism,
at least in the sense of the state, where capitalism reigns and the most ruthless and powerful win all the freedom.

Us cowards were too scared of violence to do anything about it. The teachers barred us from bullying, and with emotion they punished bullies, when they could be caught. Punish the bullies so they will develop the slavish obedience not to harm their peers, so in the future they will merely quietly compete up the ladder and sigh at the impossibility of their ladder extending past their bully bosses. If you want to have real freedom and fortune in this life, I hope you never stopped being a bullying child. I, like most children, bought the obedience and swallowed it like morning pills. In rows I sat, I pledged to red white and blue, and while the bullies slapped our heads, we kept our retaliation to unified grumbling, yet in a school there is no strength in numbers, besides the strength of harmonizing our slavish sighs. It’s just like at work under our bully bosses. The strength of the individual is denied in a school, so we can work like a cog, working hard at our shape to fit best into the machine.

The bully notices the competition early on and acts hard, swift, and originally. For this is how wars are won. But us slaves have our way of converting the bully, we have numbers on our side, yet little strength. Out of weakness we tell the bully that they are an ill shaped cog, and they will never be able to help the machine if they keep their powerful aggression. Conversion to slaves may occur, or a half convert is created who is too deluded with their new illness, so they can do little physical harm to anyone anymore.

And all without a drop of blood. We go to work secretly competing with each other, in order to buy the system’s validity at the end of the week. And we rip each other‘s teeth out in our dreams

I played mandolin on the street when I could barely play a chord
and now I get anxious when I play with an open back door
Somehow lost the lifetime of encouragement I got there on Calle Main

All walks of life gave shaking life advice to a kid and his friend
The mayor stopped by and gave us change
instead of trespassing us from the village storefronts

We didn't recognize her but a crazed man filled us in on what a compliment it was afterwards

Trying to feel fulfilled
Trying to be fulfilled
Thinking of a to-do list
seems so easy
but they're always too ambitious
Nothing fills
Trying to clean up after myself
cannot keep up with the slob I am
before I storm out the house
after picking up some kind of purpose
from the oblivion
after licking the wounds of being lost in infinity
Finding a way to embrace
the superficial beyond tongue-in-cheek
Lost in dharma
sick
I don't live the truth I know
in my heart
Nothing here is permanent
Should you chase after delusions?
We consciously delude ourselves
past the intellectual epiphanies
where we admitted how little we know
Or do you just sit and enjoy the show
limit you exposure to negative experiences
and chase after ones which end up positive?
Even that's too ideological
But how do you stand without any ground
even for just a moment?
God's been dead
but what have you replaced him with?
May is
may well be
what ought
Because what else do we have
besides what is anymore?
But should our perceptions of what is
become our argument for what ought?
There, the shadow of a god still looms

Soon I'll be a work day chump
9 hours a day, 1 hour drive
each way
Satisfied the pay's above minimum wage
and I got the weekends free to drink and play

8 hours of impersonal lonely phone calls
next to people unlike me in every way
except how we're all paid
A headset be my cursed crown
I'll forget to take it off
when I leave for lunch downtown

"You're doing this for her."
I'll say to the framed question mark
atop my plastic desk
A future wife, another life
Don't let the exhaustive poison win
We're destined for other places
And darling, you'd leave me here
face it

But, your king is a thrill seeking breadwinner
Who shall conquer fertile forests
abound with cabin mansions, reindeer dinners
and more than 5 hours of weekday waking freedom time
Till then, I just wish I could promise you
I won't lose my mind

The beast in the valley
wants more skulls for his cave
He's very very patient
He'll get them eventually

Effigy girl waits
naked amidst foggy jungles
Not waiting for me

Lovely roadside woods
would be ever so more peaceful
without a road near

Effigy girl smiled
at me ounce and everyone else
I only smiled at her

Haiku marshmallow
Easy to swallow, easy to chew
O haiku, *******

The thoughts sound too forced
too scattered in blasé
Can you blame them?
All I see in one day
all my questions
ready to be answered
the lack of closure leaves me
staring at a screen
hood on
in the snow on my front porch
waiting for the dog to ****
but can't sit in the silence
I check the news
check my stocks
no attention paid
cause the tension's raised
What should I do with my life when I go back inside?

Too many options
Antenna TV
Star Trek all night or stream the same
But which ones to pick?
Maybe I'll check the net to see what's best
cause I already watched them all
still would really like some comfort
from good stories with morals
And while it's on commercials I'll
find something else to do on my phone
I keep doing it
and all the time I'm thinking about work
or trying to move to a better place
or pondering the doom of the human race

Is it the human condition to be swayed by morons
whose only talent is to talk big and vague?
They get paid in bribes
cannot turn on empathy
toward those harmed
"What's best for me is best"
narrow-mindedness
Cannot see past
Cannot see:
"What harms another, harms me"
always
Polluted the air
to make some dough, now
you're breathing the cancerous soot
Lower the workers' pay
live in a world of hungry thieves

Kali, Mother of Time & Change
obliterates superficial reality

creates black matter
to mold & form

Today, I sent out at least another 10 advertisements of myself. It’s not fair. These potential employee seeking companies show me at least a thousand ads boasting about themselves, but I only got the time to send out a fraction of their words, and it’s somehow bad taste to show off my handsomeness. No pictures at all, just boring words, competing against the tacky hordes of plastic signs, overt lies, and labeled every things. I don’t even get any screen time, and if I could even afford it, they’d think I over did it. So I can’t use any ****** tricks to show my fluency in PR devilry? Y’all hypocrites.

High and noble
clawing back up to confidence
the fractionalized ebb and flow of my self-development
It sinks to laze and despair
then comes back with newfound action and plans
Just constricting and expanding
in the entropy of a universe
where everything else does the same (collapse)
recognizing so I can do better than better each time
Wondering if it's just my body
What pills did I did or did not take?
What did I or did not eat?
One weekend off and I'm knocked out
but what's worse
the routine or the break?

The hypocrisy of the American right and a global pandemic
It's a hoax or it isn't
but China, a place where people eat bats
is to blame
If only the communist government would step up
and ban them  

and boy, wouldn't it be nice
if the Dem commies got off our backs
here in our government
and let us sell anything we want
without regulation

Or maybe the Chinese
are more crafty than that
They made it in a lab to destroy Trump
and hundreds of thousands of Americans,
and Europeans, Asians, Africans, and South Americans
including their own Chinese, all perished
that's how cruel they are

Now, us here at the Victims of Communism Memorial Foundation
will tout the American president's line
that reddest China is indeed to blame
and all this blood is on their hands.
Yes, all these deaths are going in our ticker
as victims of communism along with
the dead **** Stormtroopers

If communist China would just forcibly stop
their free wild markets
none of us would be in this mess

What do you keep on your shelf?
The kind you can lock up and hide things
where once we held poor rabbits
pets when we're kids
but mistreated because
in most places and times  
they eat them

not just the kind that's hunted
The illogical culture of America
and all places
Here, it's more humane to herd cows in sheds
than it is to keep small rodents in cabinets
our indigenous and precious pets
deserve crates and cages
Time in the yard when it's sunny
and we can watch them

What is it that stops us from questioning
the scaffolding of our reality?
Why aren't more of us solipsists?
Shouldn't we all be like those
delusional violent ones?

They see no reason
to think the world exists
outside their heads
Therefore their thoughts influence
their reality more and more

All of our thoughts
influence the reality
We sense to a varying degree
unique to each of us

But do we really all, for the most part
believe some **-hum passivity?
Oh, what pressures magnetize our brains

Theravada or Zen?

It used be Theravada
Little did I know of Buddhist scrolls
Just a couple of commandments
obsessed with death
and a-clinging to enlightenment
Everything I did was with dharma and importance

Then it went to Zen, anything goes
absurdist, all for enlightenment
except overly polite ritual hymns
What’s up with that
when you don’t fear death?

Now I’m sort of back to Theravada
With a hint of roots Zen, Bodhidharma
But devotedly, I’ll take none of it all
Why believe in enlightenment?
Just appreciate the fall
changes

...**** It

Crippled inaction
is the fear I'll fail at asking her out
when the moment comes up
or the fear that it will all work out but
it won't feel like enough
Same story for doing my laundry
Same story for writing songs and getting them out

Narcissist that knows he
could be Emperor if he gave it his all
But knees buckle at the thought
of those peons and
what they're saying 'bout me
in their decrees
These bouts, these bouts,
these bouts
Let's run to Nothingness
don't get off the couch
Let's run to mundane business
Everyday I scrub these floors
and someday I'll see us in them
___________

arm around shoulder
the sparkle in your eye
reflected back at me, me, me
You're the sing-song voice of my other
Even though I heard you say no words
I just finished the story I started
the first time we caught eyes, eyes, eyes

They feel like grapes and your
spaghetti hair sure feels like brains
so can I ask you something?
Cause I don't know you enough
to say I'm not a fan but life's too short so
can we shatter some distance?
Like, "Hey I'm not too partial on pasta and sauce
but I sure would like to chat and canoodle on the couch."
Lazy eyes find the forest in your perfect ones
No more mistaken for trees, trees, trees
We're all firmly in this world

Monroe Ave c. 2018, in my own dream land. K. Daniel's Revelation, cannot reverse what's starting to happen. Darker, more forlorn. No more bar and restaurant patrons, the streets are just a scattered herd of pestilence. No cars, the somnambules own the streets in silence. Honey dripping hipsters, years gone. ***** clothes, hair past their pearls. Asking for boy, asking for O.P.s, asking for girl, asking for crack, asking for methamphetamines. The only noise.

We lost the reclamation of the city our parents left. Escaping dead end cul-de-sacs of basement poverty, we no longer had to drive. Stacked with our friends in tenement commune. We delivered the body we consume in service, catering to a more privileged few. Only responsible for one when long work was done, I ensured my red blood's full of fun. We drank and inebriated with design when allowed more free time. But, darling, I think this town was already gentrified. We changed no thing.

Bleakness in my future, but not for me alone
In fact, through my friends and modest financial luck
I think I may have escaped the worst of it all

You did your hardest climbing and are resting on a cliff side
My eyes focus too ******* the bubbling tar pits below that
threaten to swallow up the progress of the last century
Instead I should rehumanize my eyes
from this microcosmic eagle sight

An eagle soars above it all between snatching
voles, moles, snakes, and other wretched beasts
To her it's all a day's work
It's us humans that envy her flight and dignify her job
We can choose symbols ourselves

I hope for the best in the world while
knowing nature doesn't care
Whether it's the trees and mountains or
the fountains of hive mind free markets
It's only people that give value to the world

Stock photos of success
With lab coats and unflashy clothes
She smiles like an airbrush
To entice me into business
An array of boring business

Are you the dynamic person you said you are 4,000 years ago? With no intoxication the conversation’s a bore. The stakes aren't high enough. I’m conditioned by the narrative and we’re all pretentiously pedantic, spewing poison at the heroic romantics.

I've lost my coper’s cloak. I remember how I dropped the dry ones at the river bank, I cut off my imitator’s finger, and as I fell into the tiger’s pit, I grasped a strawberry to make me sweeter. I crowned the beast a hero, cause out of perfect tiger dharma he tore off the limb that led him from his prison. Yet, the human dharma is to save all beings from our reckless peering.

2 Drinks
1 Bowl (except weekends)

Take care of your teeth
Eat a fruit and vegetable

I'm sick of feeling stuck in a vestibule
trapped in your armoire
Can't stop searching through your chest of drawers

Looking for reasons not to escape
I worked hard to get here
I just want to sit on my deck
drinking coffee, fernet, and beer
but I'm too busy with my Winchester mansion
to ever settle

Don't know how to avoid gaping emptiness so thoroughly anymore
when mowing grass seems to be my biggest problem anymore
I just don't have the energy
I'm too tired after a morning of forced psychic connections
with folks that would be strangers
if today we had our choice

So dusty,
what's the harm
Another shell of skin to cling to our jeans and old sweaters
Swallow it down with our table top soft butter
and the cowboy leather in our insides
will make us infinitely tougher

Barfing nails longer than the ends of gypsy hands
to scratch the antagonists
in our crystal ball's plans
Sorry, but bloodiness is what
my trombonist destiny demands
I'll slide you a swan song
to contemplate dark magick's sand
that spirals down the throat of the hourglass man
In 100 years time,
our empty glass bodies
will tip from the wind of a fan
held by a butterfly drifting through a faraway land

Hell, so why do we care
when anything at all goes wrong?
Yes, Devil most evil
I address you and everyone else
who resides in your throng
He just lit an unfiltered cigarette
said "just enjoy the song
and ******* lighten up a bit
Think your dead and burning
use your imagination
Whatever's in your head
you're it."

The hadron collider showed an unknown influence affecting subatomic particles.

“Is this proof of a higher power in the universe?” asked Marianne Williamson.

“Is this Will, is this magick?”

Yes Herr Nietzche, there will always be unknowns in human science as the scientists should have known all along, instead of substituting the most recent names of observations as the replacement of God.

No, there probably isn’t free will but we seem to be life in the unknown with more power than any other around.

This universe may just repeat on and on but what do you do with that knowledge? Can you even help to choose what you choose?

All these past influences and instinctual impulses lead the charge. But there's that spark. That mystery if we can ever really know and comprehend it all with limited senses, time, and minds.

Maybe you don’t have a choice in your life, but you can have the feeling you do. The feeling you can shape your world amid the destiny you feel in your heart.

Practice being a yeasayer to life because that just might be your fate.
Amor fati each time around.

“The trouble is, we think there’s time”
Buddha said it so urgent
Complete with Sanskrit contractions
The baby delivering doctor saying we all have a cancer, no matter how slow
so pick up your passions with a god’s effortlessness
Play a concerto that makes your hair stand on end
because the music was more important than a reflective surface
Looking like a you were born in a stormy garret
Writing, thinking, and plucking, as if the gods set you there
instead of the million hopeless mediocre ones
No, instead you are brethren to those gods
All competing for immortal kicks – like mortal tail
Until the game board perspective ceases
looking down on the plebeian pantheon
and it’s just you and what you lived for

The Pop Culture is growing
More to study
more trivial knowledge
The entertainment category
less hobbied skills
We're so enthralled
Modern Age, information phase
So fun
The things we can do
when we're not working
and we're not not working
more these days
These days are so distractive
not by the hardships of life
but the ease
I see so much more that draws me in
I feel I should experience all
But there's no time
and my own expression
may be worth half of it anyway

Nothing but dread
looming and seeping
I'm getting wet and coughing up mold
I should have stepped out
with friends and drugs
The apothecary's dry
and I'm scared to drink alone
I spin the room
then nap like a toddler
only to wake up in old bones
amid a society that takes itself
proudly too seriously
but hates to wake up to the fact
that we're spinning with mystery
I bring it up
and am called childish and unimportant
So I slug back to bed
with dreams of wish fulfillment
and falling teeth
O the time I waste

It’s polarized like a Kodak Picture
you're clicking in to all my secret desires
I slipped them to you like a patsy to a fortune teller
Am I dreaming?
Cause all this seems to be made for me
Though I hate rowing
you promised me a motorboat
a yacht with infinite wind in her sails
Soon as I toil here for a few years
you’ll let me into that life
Walking down Easy Street
with a gleam in my eye
knowing I could buy watches and bags

Some things change
and some things take longer
You say he’s always the same
well one day he’ll die
and won’t say a thing
Was he quiet all his life?
Well he didn’t look like bones
Now he’s eating worms
Somethings change and somethings take longer
Take long steps
and you won’t notice the footprints, getting
larger or smaller
A limp in his walk
His back starts to arch
a new way
except it’s always been empty
Always full of change
no matter how sharp you are
you will be forgotten
All the books about you
burned by a tyrant
All the progress made
is dead
Some things change
and somethings take longer
Put them together
and every thing is empty
Everything is empty.

I'm on a social networking site on the internet,
What is the internet?
Forgive me for my ignorance 18th century friends,
It's a connection of machines that can share information.
Yes, and that "social networking site"
is part of the connection of machines
to try and make people feel less lonely.

It does feel strange sometimes when I'm on there.
And then the possession inside the machine says;
"but without me you wouldn't know this music, this picture, this place, this girl."
And now, for the first time, I am not subdued.
For the first time, I answer back, but what things would I know without you?

What forests would I have walked through? What people would I have met?
What noises would I have heard?
O the less trivial things I would have learned.
What streets would I have crossed (both in this layer of reality, in metaphor and metaphysical)
What girl's eyes would be staring towards mine, instead of those of a camera's.

I've got to talk about the internet
I've got to talk about the facebook^tm
(though in a year it will be gone)

It feels all so inauthentic
so I indulge in the scary technology
but then omit it from my memories
when I see your pics online
I write about them like they are authentic
genuine photographs I have yellowing
in an album in the attic
I don't have an attic either

Can’t you understand my dual soul
the eternity verses fleeting?
Why a shy kid reads, makes art in his room
in between traumatizing social crises
Like 8 years old at the steakhouse chain
my parents made me order my own food
But when he’s 19 he drives all around drinking
with no time in between to sit and ponder existence
Now, I’m back in my room silent on my bed  
long returned from those shady social tasks most dangerous
The 5-day-a-week mood still pulsating through me
It’s the sitting and thinking
alone with my thoughts  - no distractions
I decay my inner being
by analyzing what I already felt once
O my, what could I do for
a peaceful mind growth stunt?
Perform and forget
the challenge of a refuse-to-settle adult

I accidently created a homunculus
while trying to foster up all the
homologous ways to
see you once more

In that meeting
I hoped to enamor you
half as much as you have me
Instead there’s a 13 armed monster
rolling across the house

branching off realms of reality
that ought to have stayed closed
If I would have left it alone
my wishes and luck
just might have been enough

With graduation behind us, my friends, thus began an epoch of slow anxious waiting filled with wonderful times. We ran rampant keeping third party mothers alert and sleepless, while our parents rested soundly knowing we were in good hands: our own. Thoughts of the impending college cold bath swam excitedly in my head, causing soft building of an expectation of golden years.

“””” Part 2
The summer came to an end and I was off to the university, five minutes down the road. It was a weird day. No opportunities came to play out the wonderful situations I made up in my head, months ago. So I felt down in the bouts and, staring at the road, I must have found a million dollars in heads up pennies. So I thought I should lift my head up, like Lincoln, but then I remembered what the history book said. Old Abe was a lawyer without any schooling, and he had the other job too. O yeah, I think he was president. Sitting in class I know I could learn much more than this drunk bro next to me, who will be my doctor someday. Learn more by just lying on the floor at home reading a book or two. But still I have to stay to earn our little paper licenses that say “thank you for your time and your money too. Now here’s some of your money back, over the next 70 years. But, you’ll never get back your time. In fact, we want more of your time if you ever wanna see some of your precious greenbacks again.” And you need a microscope to read all those words cause they want to save money, paper, trees, and all of our gleaming plasticized hopes and dreams.

Learn to write again
learn to type right
first time in 3 decades of life

I want to write closer to when I think
speed time, to slow it
make it feel like I do more
like I was in my teens or early twenties
****, these days 3 go by and it feels like one

I count my blessings to build confidence
Life grows more cruel but
I might win if I act like already won
Chaos magick, nay we do not speak of it

You forgot to pretend
to suspend quests for rationality
No longer moved by a book or film
We conditioned to be unconditioned
only to realize we ought to been wistfully in the herd
the whole time  
We're the Bodhisattvas forestalling enlightenment
to get drunk with the butchers
after decades of sober high ground
We're the over-analyzers
lamenting our anachronisms in self-assuring
new philosophies
Either fully embrace one or drop out of being smart at all
the only tolerable choice to start to enjoy life again
No, no it's a false dichotomy
I want to be the eternal well-wisher
no matter the decadent displays

The shared dream of a soon to be future
We scavenge and defend
through pockmarked streets
make shelters amid crumbling concrete
We forgot how to imagine a secure society
Measured expectations and social safety nets
they took it all away along with our balanced serotonin
I used to get all jazzed up over a library book
but now the images promise us much more bliss
right around the corner

But it never soothes
never comes close  
We cannot buy the contentment you claimed to offer
so we'll get it in collapse
We'll be sniped, starved, and deranged
but the thought of that life
makes us whisper excitedly to ourselves
"finally something has happened to me."

I, the eternal well-wisher
will wag no more fingers at preachers of death
Neither will I become them nor pity them

Passing through mid-century
these jazz oneironauts reached Apollonian heights
while society drifted into Dionysian drunkenness
the merchants caught on too soon
The most beautiful parts of humanity
enamored to serve the ugliest:
The merchant class, the bourgeoisie
Buddha’s undeserving in charge
If only in past centuries
those noble princesses embraced
even more lowly patronages
all this potential today could be staved off
Saved from the drive to be commodified
People stopped buying jazz as it reached its height
No more smiles to appease the whites
Jazz for the few
the noble, the individual in the know

Until this too becomes the simulacrum
The Ornette Coleman on the bookshelf
to signify your snootiness
your refinement from wealth
Aging Dads in thousand dollar sweaters
kicking out their 22 year old kids
for being ****** addled hipsters
meanwhile Bird on Verve is nodding out
and Dad’s girlfriend pops a Percocet
to deal with all the stress

Using the 1% of those who got out of
the violent act of poverty
at the expense of billionaires
and taxpayer payed subsidies

Yes, they use the most pretentious
of our few escapees
they become a mouthpiece
to deny the facts researched
by actual experts

Truth is
what is powerful

There's no escape
from the ruler's messages
There's no escape from miseducation

****** affliction of a lack of affection companion
Hand and hand strolling greater than syrupy plunging
and even sometimes buddy shrugging over wooden noisemakers
We whistle with their metal strings
and through the pasta soft ones in our throats
but no nest colored mares seem to hear
our flamboyant feather calls for future fondling
So I scribe slight implied short letters
invites to drink joints and nature jaunts
All too well thought out
hoping your advanced technology cannot trace
the time I spent to type
The overanalysis of our psych: her and I’s
wondering why she doesn’t have an inkling
for a cute fall date where we attempt to bake apple pies
It’s all too contrived, I know
I’ll strive for delusion
Accept a useful interpretation for our chemical inflammation
and let sparks pass it by
Like itsy bitsy flies laying eggs in a wound
for stagnant water maggots
They’ll eat away the thought well
where all my cranial zaps seem to dwell.

I wore a Bush/Cheney '04 shirt
from a thrift store
to an upper level history class
on election day 2012
Professor and classmates stared
scared to talk to me

I never explained
that in 2004
I was the only Democrat
on my hick town bus

And now look who's in office?
No one even dares
wear that red hat in jest
For the right co-opted irony
as their latest prize

'merica:
Either your genuinely
hyper patriotic to absurdity
or you're an enemy

Dropped into perestroika events
and I don’t really know myself.
I talk differently than my driving desires
I’m a less apt projection of who I want to be.
I can honestly say sometimes I might be the original
but that’s a last resort in boring places.
Someone once had a quote
about how it’s foolish to know yourself.
But I get so **** scared.
Nothing to hold.
Not even a floor for my shoes.
Not even sure what shoes best suit me.
I’m free to make this soul go anywhere,
Yes, Mr. Voltaire, ****** too free.
Mr. Holy Roller says Jesus already came with his plow truck
and paved a way for me.
But which ways did he pave,
God, where will it all lead?
God, which way is best for me?
Still I might not be supposed to know myself,
But The Self
that we all share.
You and me babe.
and that dog and that deer
and that grass and that car
and that lamp post.
All the same.
All the universe’s
and all the other universes’ weight on my head
that keeps being ****** into a vortex
in between where everything’s all the same goop.
All the same stuff. What am I doing living with it?
******.

“Whoever observes himself arrests his own development. A caterpillar who wanted to know itself would never become a butterfly.” -Andre Gide

Oh my lord, these messages
regarding novel technology
But how original is it really?

Aura, heavenly choir
echoes, booming through your living room
and creeping into your bedroom laptop
The religion is now available in a watch
The weight of this phone and the distractions she invites
I feel like a past man, a robber baron
displaced in his longest dream, and it’s terrifying
that there are past lives
I’m not sure how I’ll deal with the flashing images
which describe everything I ever done

Where’s your soul dear actress?
Is it drifting on the paper cranes
made from spent Washingtons?

The debate is on
I want to perform
but first I must
humidify my guitar
Ate dinner
now there's a lump in my throat
so I'm gonna sit here
drinking tea 'till I feel
paradoxically soothed and energized
hamburger and homefries
the summer dish
perfect for outside
but here I sit in my A/C winterland
conditioning myself for hats and gloves
The water's warming and rising
the mosquito larvae have won
Itching in Yellow Fever delirium
These grassy hollows
were once a worthwhile place

The new wonders are now
grotesque animistic anomalies
Today, face-to-face with rabid rabbits
Tomorrow, the white light angels
with hyper beam cleansing
     they could no longer bear to watch
from porcelain obelisks
the human media screen
of indoor inexploration
fail to hide the sins
from the scale holding counters
Justice, the lucky one
with bandanna over eyes
still heard the profit wrenching semantics
get drowned out from screaming harpies
Responsible gods stopped their foray
in fear humans will survive
Dark matter engulfs all
in fear humans will survive

Oh there’s nothing you can do to turn this day around
The universe is set in black matter
and it’s oozing here consistently
Milady, Mara’s on another rampage
Try to sit down and enjoy
Maybe this rooftop will hold up long enough
to give us a sublime view

Done with thinking because that's for god to do
I am just this appendage of a greater consciousness

Ahab is blameless
in his small existence
Don't quote me
quote Herman and Freddy Nietzsche
They and their hermits
coming down from the mountains
to declare they ought to have
loved their fate all along

Amor fati
Why couldn't we have been stuck in the herd all along
guys who get love and happiness effortless
no need to spend their life in anguish
searching through tomes
found in tombs for eons and eons
enhancing their social aloofness
and their unremembered trauma
'till those sad souls give those pansies confidence
to leave an exegesis of their own

Too smart kid
that decried Christ and
the shadows of a god all around
only to find the search for truth was hopeless
Find a way to dumbly enjoy life again
and you only say again cause
that's all we can control
our memories
and we too often forget
our thought habits
the pre-neolithic mind tricks
on ourselves

Too many MLMs profiting off false mindfulness
missing the point beyond exercise
and short stress relief

Change your thought patterns to love your destiny
That's the best we have
to pretend to have control in this ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ hole

My new medium
the Sanskrit pen
that makes my words widen
I wish the upstairs was more silent
I'm afraid of waking them
I return from the carriage quarters
where I blew off smoke
sending quick wisps through rings
and I closed the six doors of the four chambers
to arrange an exorcism
The smoke must dissolve
in only haunted rooms
and not reach the vents of elders or newborns
cause they'll certainly frighten
thinking demons abound
Numb as the ******, depersonalized
but realizing it (wanting it)?
What's my name?
I won't tell
but if you know it
could you say it aloud?
I swear someday I'll know myself

If I wait to finish my
chores,
to finish my food
all the tiny
notifiers to my superego,
my id
would wither
music, writing, commiserating,
and commiserating
eight-fold path that could
fit in my pocket

I can play
Make children with songs
that have been inside me
half a lifetime
when I picked up an axe
14 year old me
Shyer in most ways
but bolder
in interesting ways
I walked the path
humming 4 noble truths
in between theses

erratic days
I lived a myriad of lives
I fear it’s all
swirling to be the same
Circles within samsara
used to last for
months now I’m stuck for
years
and I no longer
wish to become
unconditioned

This body's not eternal
and this mind just might be along with it
soul just might decay with the brain
Sparks of life become ash
and fertilize the lake and sands
where my last wish will flow
by who knows who will be
the last of my loved ones
You're my purest afterlife hope

I sit here in uncomfortable indecision
feeling every itch and twitch, T.V. off
trying to listen to the cellular hum
to reach peace of mind
give in to the fractals and functions
and blaze when it gets too bad

It's the present we forget
I'm always in-between doing this or that
waiting for inspiration
waiting for the stars to align
when my shuttle works fine