sauntry and sultry,
a fraudulent check written
in a moment of disclarity.
if you've got a bridge to sell
I'm buying.
I've got stakes on this land,
broken with till,
seeded with pain,
nourished with blood,
razed, salted, travesty, and sown again.
a faulty playpen snaps shut on a toddler,
a man trips over his Pekingese
and puts his hand in his brand new
20% off buy two get one blendtec
brand blender,
showering his mother in law
with shards of wrist bone
and strips of lacerated flesh.
this is my foot.
these are my fingers, broken,
distal, intermediate, and proximal
phalanges.
these are the carpal and metacarpals.
I am a Spartan of a shitshack.
I was trained in the wicked art of
long arduous bowel movements.
squeeze one out for the ones you love.
in some small musty room
in new York city
there is a cocknballs paying $200
to get ****** on
by a wombwalker
and thinking about his ******
Pekingese.
you know its true.
don't try to think too hard about it
or you might lose an eye.

time does not flow
forward for me now,
its movement is crooked,
like a confused river flowing north.
I don't ask questions anymore.
I don't steer this ship towards my
own destiny.
I keep my head down and listen.
and continue working
smiling in pain.
yes yes this is good.
this is great.
I don't have the nerve to ask for more.
what you do is more than
I could ask for.
yes yes
see you later.
nightmares rend my sleeping mind
I awaken soaking through sheets
the room is freezing.
I blink and hope the waking
amnesia doesn't disappate before I can crash again

its great
I work 6 days 35 hours a week
and earn minimum wage
tips I get from taking people
soggy sandwiches
go directly into cigarettes and gas.
Im on food stamps
I donate plasma
just to make ends meet
and I still can't afford to
get the water turned on.
the only time I eat is
when I get half priced garbage
from work
or buy stale loaves of forgotten
bread for 50¢
I have health insurance
but I don't pay for it.
I don't pay my phone bill either
no internet,
no computer,
no heat.
I have electricity.
the rich drain us of resources.
they need US, we don't need THEM.
they say 'I'm here because.I worked.hard,'
imply I don't work hard.
implying nurses in hospitals don't work
hard scrubbing **** out of old peoples
diapers,
implying immigrant construction workers
don't break their backs working for half
of what I get
making a.descent living for their family.
the rich are a product of privilege
sure you might work hard,
but what did your parents do?
let me guess.
they were business owners
or lawyers
you went to private school
had braces
played football
went to the doctor whn you.were.sick
taught things
were sent to college
yes.
hours so much better than me
because you work hard.
while I'm doing your *****
and starving because of you.

I still feel you
in my heart.
what wrath visited on me,
perhaps I see in your eyes sorrow
the green sea swells with life
the lone seagull cuts
the air,
scanning the waves
which belch and break
on the gray shore.
a fisherman thinks
drowned by the white noise
his rod cast aimlessly
he considers tossing off his
anchor and crashing headlong
into the rocks,
****** underneath
legs shattered as hes dragged
along the bottom,
his thick blood like oil
curls in clouds around him
his lungs burn
he screams and isn't heard
hurt but not forgotten
he drags his sloop ashore,
snaps his rod in half and casts it into
the foam.
fishing makes for terrible metaphors,
he thinks.
the seagull screams in reply.

I roll out of bed
and grab an empty beer can,

curling my fingers with
clumsy half conscious grace
I pull out my **** and
place the head into the
mouthhole and ****.
its

a long one,
rivulets of ***** dribble over the sides
and stain my crusted socks.
I take it outside and throw it away.
I go inside and sulk for a bit,
cracking my knuckles and drawing
shapes in the walls,
the light reflects into my pupils
And I hate it.
I have to **** but there's no water
the toilets are clogged, filled
to

the brim with
hymn excriment

you're upstairs living without me.
who knows, maybe you're having a better
day
or maybe its exactly the same.
somewhere someone is eating caviar
smiling laughing in love.getting laid
enjoying music
******* in a toilet
laying on a couch watching t.v.
instead we're here

ding
light shreds you,
rending you apart
burning you to ashes
until just your dingy, second-hand
soul is left.
that soul is your candor,
it is what people spit on,
it is the thing they want to ****
it is thing you try to ****
filled with grief each time
you are stuck deciding whether
to dust it off, smile and say
"there's a good chap,
lets put another mark on the wall
and have a drink."
or crush it under foot and
forget you ever had it.
it is your love
your solace
you desire
the dreams you have of love
your soul is that scream as you
awaken from a happy dream
cut down by reality.

The sting,
Its always there.hope
Will fail you.
Nothing is as good as you
Imagine it to be

They will leave you.broken
and grasping at thin air,
As you draw
A tortured breath in a murky
Puddle in a gutter
Time heals no wounds.

Its funny how those who you hurt
And who hurt you
Always.seem to bounce back
So much quicker than you do.