my heart is broken.
id like to cement it shut.
it does not belong here.
it is inorganic.
i am subhuman.
i invent hell.
it kills everyone.

everyone ive ever loved.

you tried a neat trick
and fell
and were caught
by the safety net
which cut you
into little squares
which rained down
on the gaping crowd
and crushed their soft
dumb skulls
and got caught
in the backs
of their
gaping
stupid
mouths
and choked them.

a savior preaching music
on a stage
to an audience of toads
slow boiling
in a vat of liquid opiates.

in one cigarette you can make art.
in one lifetime you can smoke almost infinite deaths.
tragedies
worth capturing
at least once.

everything is a distraction.
something i try to attract
but has nothing to do with
who i am.
i am a fiber
conducting numbers
and invisible designs.

.

I sold my soul to the devil and he sold it back to me. I am $35 richer.

.

for every time ive sat with it
alone inside

listening to the buzzing air,

the third party.

i knew something had died.

when great minds come together
nothing happens.

but watch out for the weirdos
for the night men
for the hawks.

if you dont
its you
who will be watched.

and all your love
your science
songs and
worship
will be lost.

your overcoat
cant cover you.

youve been spotted.

you are watched.

and when you walk
into the darkness
of an alleys stench,

theyre waiting for you there

and theyve already sized your coat.

it rains dead pianos
when i try to sleep.
it drives the cicadas
inside them to drink.
i must be possessed,
or so says my shrink.

the sun sweats
while it
goes down on the ocean

and she tilts her head back
       and groans,
laughs one of those laughs
     you can be proud of.

theres a thickness of ***
in the air.

making their flowers
open with sweat
drips onto their
roots grow deep
into them.

none are certified
but the insane.

i wouldnt be able to handle that.
i would cry.
i would want to **** myself.
i wouldnt be able to care for anyone.
and id leave you then join you.

industry will lift like smog.
we will breathe again.

the fetal stages
of agedness.

everything and i
have a
cursed relationship.

i hate it
but sometimes
it tricks me
into loving it.

i hate it
so much.

i cant wait to part from it.

she screams at me
and i want to shoot myself
in the back right corner
of my head
and sometimes i laugh.

i live next door to a cannibal
but im seeing if i can just move
in with him.
so i sit naked
in the yard
and try to
look
appetizing.

from the ether i sweat

which burns and evaporates on my glowing Heat.

                 .rises and collects.


                   im passing clouds


            raining down to the disjointed skeleton of my tree

from which the heads of Humanity hang. Hungry eyed&open-mouthed.;
  filled with the sound of the Macabre, singing to feed the fruit of          my flesh which they eat


                            im the dried up seed
                               next to me on the
                                         ground
                    
                       waiting to grow poppies
                                   from my soul.

i put on
a one man show
in the base of my skull
and the audience
is dead.

he may have died
and that's sad
but is that so bad?

im sort of just lingering
in my own mind right now.
i think about
calling the phone
and bakeracting myself
to the bathroom.
its a small apartment.
i have nowhere else to go.

if my front yard
is a street
then im a car farmer.

i found my way in somehow.
let me out.

"Many men go fishing
all of their lives
without knowing
it is not fish
they are after."

i had to do something
i had to go somewhere
i was running
i saw his face and i don't remember
i saw his face

a shadow moves in me

it lives in my mind.

it is a
formidable
and
eerie
contender.

she plucked me from

her cherry tree.

she ate me.

my red is ripe.

it shines.

her mouth is mine.

words are leaves
grow and
falling out of a mouth
gnawing at air for fruit

there is a perfect semblence
between the forest and the trees
when you see the world
as the world would see it.

swimming through swaying streets
that are dunk
and lead
to nowhere
and chase their own tail
dragging me along
until i find my bed
in the middle of
one of them.

overlapping curtains

light becomes ash
is a physical shadow.
it is the breath being held
in the cup of the hand
that is letting go nowhere.
it is the moment we blink
when the bubble is made
from a wave and is popped
and is stared at and stopped.
it is a disharmony that is crafted
to separate the bliss from the bliss
so they can view each other
in delight.

shot in the head
by a camera
brains
everywhere.

CLAM
   IGGER

black out the moon is
white out the sky.
empty blocks of color
talking back and forth
through rotten teeth
falling out and crawling
back into the darkness
of the mouth of our mind.

strings of sentences slide by
like a pit of snakes and multiply.

over time the old ones die
and the young ones left alive
swim out of it and get
back onto the hillside to dry.

ancient spirits watch it rain hawks
through the whites
of dead men's eyes
who still walk and inhabit the night.

life is a river.
at the end of the river
is a baby.

all the lights
get smaller and smaller
to eachother

the beer bottle
falling over
and shattering
before it is reached
is its own
master.

remain
a stench
on the floor
in the morning.

paved hands.

sewage tunnels
cleaning through
the body.

a spirit sways inside.

my sock

hopped away

f

we are our
bodies
when they
mix
to meet our
souls
somewhere
besides
here

passing through
chambers and
floors and
precious bodies

you never decorate
your christams tree.
you sit around all year
waiting for it to leave.

"and take that stupid ******* wreath
    with you when you do."

the moment before
it became enlightened
i performed a mercy ****
on a burning ant.

i  thought it was saintly
but then i realized
i was a monster.

when i become a burning ant
ill know the true nature
of my murderer.

ill be there
when the sun stops workin..
ill feel every inch of it
ill be soakin up the hurtin..
but ill sit there until I die..
one of our gleams will die
in the light of the others eye..
who's here and why..
does anyone know anyone?

Evismisalial.
Terrical.
Langarsian.
Perdonatriasic.
Climson.
Talp­aratardenter.
Kiltafair.
Chemsbot.
Strester.
Klemson.
Tilmidair.
­Feltonasodomide.
Percussive.

my soul is my river
my body is my dam
and my heart
goes out to
all the dying fish
drowning in love

my landlady
has died.

she sits in
a chair
which i havent
had the time
to make a make on.

it must be nice
because her house is nice.

its all old dead wood
and im satisfied
by its condition.

but my rent is due
and i dont know how
to approach an
old dead
landlady.

i figure if i take care of her dog
it will amount to something.

but i have nothing for
the dog.

i might join her
in her disposition
to negotiate
an agreement.

i might die
in the chair
beside her.

.

i don't have rosey cheeks.
i don't have anything like that left.
all i have is the closeness of death.

hungry animals leave the woods
and find a job in the city
just to get away
from my collecting dust.

no one wants to choke.
everyone talks their way out of it.

i build a fire and listen to the echos
of someone else's laugh.

alone. alone.

alone.

a voice that i don't recognize.
a voice that talks the talk.
enough to make me walk for days.

until im lost
until im crazed.

enough to stop trying to see
through the haze.

and see the way
for its many ways.

two competing eyes
in fight for a simple
and complete
vision.

none the more
is less the wise.

i want to eat
fruits and vegetables
with you
until we rot.