i am a ***** styrofoam food container blowing down the street.

i am homeless.
i am pure.

but as i crawl towards success
i resemble more and more
a devil.

its been fun
being one
with everyone.

but my curiosity
has peaked
and i have
the strong urge
to commit.

i cant go to sleep.
if i go to sleep
ill become posessed by that ghost.
but that doesnt worry me
ill get the ghost
because i know
itll sleep.

i grew thorns.

-no flower for a head.

i lived in dirt.

-i grew;

i grew thorns.

my sock

hopped away

for some
its the great escape.
for some
its the
great illusion.
for others
its for others.

a girl rides by on a bicycle.
the sun is stuck in her hair.
a piece of it falls
and shatters in the road.

i sweat every word
from my broken body,
tired of wearing my will.

too tired to talk.

a clumsy cloud
covers you
in muttering nonsense.

letters with no names
limp off your skin
onto the floor around you,
laying in the shade
of your edges

to cook
burn off
and die.

thoughts are things to evaporate.
the pictures painted
in our minds
turn to ash
as the pink and purple
flashes of light
speak the story
of our organs
meeting and mating.

mothering one another.

you invent the enemy.
there is no enemy.
you are the enemy.
and there is no you.

fire lit smoke clouds
rain water.

Shed identities and leave them to clean them off the floor in the morning.

im write poetry.
am poetry write me.
how stupid though.

an idiot has raised a village
burning at the stake.
cooking for the forest.
a family of plants
burning in the sun.
a chorus of screaming heads.
bodies of illness.
harboring the mind of melody.
and a creature which does not exist
slithers in from every side.
a mouth open so wide
it is emaciated by its own strength.

everyone

     broken
     pixels

down to
       zero


             zero waits,

                    still,
       motionless,

  unmade

kindness and senseless beauty

a dead bird flies inside of my skull
and pecks out my eyes from behind
but itll never escape
no matter how hard it tries

that poor bird is losing its mind.


it cant sleep
(it carves what it babels on its walls)
it cant sleep
(it sings spells it learned in Hell)
it cant sleep
(so it perches and
resonates in its chamber)
it cant die (and now neither can i)

the tongue is black with words

and dripping sweat

with fever.

it sheds its skin
to shed your skin.

until we're razor thin
and transparent.

if i die
before i wake
please eat me.

satanic verses crawl up the wall.
and my soul leaves my body
for another man.
im found in the room
days later.
she tells me i have three days
to pay the rent
or im out
and she leaves.

my life was pirated by someone
but not me.

these rare eventualities are
preordained to bring us
to madness.
its the work of
someone more clever
and deranged
than we.

it was once
that i was the rain
in drops.

but a puddle
in this world
grows a skin of gasoline.

a rainbow sits
on this body of water
only when
a flame is found
to light the way.

the flame will drown.
the way will die.
to find the light inside.

and the light
it leaves
in broken pieces

scattered,
as i was,
when once it was

that i was the rain
in drops.

so much light floods the sky
they must be battling.
hold love close and smile with
your bones and teeth rattling.

stupid ******* crowd
clapping over the music.

i use spiders as weapons
to **** me
so you
cant have the glory
of defeating
your opponent.

its the glory you want
but i give it
to the spiders.

they deserve it,

theyre good to me.

there was a tiny bug
on my screen:

i did not squoosh him
so i did not
write this.

no blood, guts.

nothing.

after all these years
i finally realise
i am not wearing a hat.

just remember:

i feel more like i do now
than i did when i got here.

**** the skin
off your body

your hearts

beating

wet

when i have ***
with your skeleton

enter
and
enslave

your dreams

ive never actually left my chair
except for when i died
and got lost on the Penrose stairs.

black bird armada
sends me signals
their constellation is a code.
the living hierogram
digests the moments of peace
they pass through.

the night is in its egg

a fly tried to teach me, a man, how to fly, but i smacked it and killed it as it landed in my ear.
now i cant hear its instructions on how to bring back the ded, as i **** its corpse in fear.

                                                                                                                         -learning to walk and live

my body is a map
for where im going nowhere

my fingerprints are a lie

i have resigned
from having those
fingers are forever

crawling across my brain


the lovemakers
make love and die
holding on to nothing
but beautiful

invisible pianos wilt and mourn

a venus fly trap
is a cocoon
im dreaming

id like to become very rich quickly
so everyone would be so nice to me
and i could leave them all.
id go to an island where everyone
lives a hundred years and are
always smiling.

really funny door-frames.

words feel like dead things
i try to reanimate
but suffocate
when i send them
to you.
so i sit in my chair
and try not to stare
while im watching you
from the moon.

i want to try
the air you breathe
but it takes courage
to leave.
and ive got some bottles
i brought with me left
filled with 85% post-consumer breath.
one tube pumps the good air in
and one tube ***** the rest.
and if i did leave
and made it
down there to
cross-contaminate
with you
im afraid you might
break out in
boils and sores.
and you wouldnt be
beautiful anymore.

so i watch you and smile
every time that your eyes
wander,tire and rest
on the moon.

i said something
so loving about you
so long ago i guess

by the time they came
marching back around

carrying the news

they were greyed
and had forgotten
what it was
they were sent out
to replace

and we were left
mumbling
i assume

i love you in my heart
in a way that is ancient.

a tongue that's so old
you can't taste it.

a moment's replacement.

fetal
futile
fatal

my heart is the native drum which i drum
and the heat which it leaks
is the land where im from.
it dies in the earth
and was born of the sun.
it speaks to me deep.
ghosts of wild beasts come.

in every breath i speak
you're there.

i hope you can hear this.

left to my own devices
i am a crook:
stealing the mind
and the good will
of the audience i am
until it is willing to **** me
and rob me of my own,
but the show must go on.

baby too crazy but crazy enough.

My heart stumbles out to a broken-legged rat in the cold but can't help so it retreats.

the body is
draped over you

our matter wants to escape
like air from a tank
but we won't let it.

my life is an ember
dying on the floor
and winking at me
the way only
dying stars do
to the wonderers
and the wishers
of this world
through its dust.

the table is an animal.

ready to attack.

i treat it well.

stripes are terrifying

tell a tale

im sad

ive had not what its had
but have
what it has not now.

a dog
died in a fire.

i wander into the bathroom
and flush myself down the toilette.
i walk out
and i am flushed.

nothing has changed
it is a room still for rent.

my minds always crooked
my spoons always bent.