a walking asian ***-doll walked into my night.
she didn't see the the stains on me
but i saw the stains on her.

when you look up at the sky
you are only visiting you.
abandon truth
and enter yourself.
that is where
you will find truth living.

One of the jabbering cows
is disrupting
my presleep cigarette
with its fat asexual presence.

if the sound of your life
lives between my lips
then how will i starve?

if i gave my family gold cars
theyd ask me who i was
and id realize i was lost
in a strange neighborhood.

i would ask for a ride somewhere
and theyd ask where
and i would realize
i just need to walk.

so full it cant be emptied.

When I was a little boy
I had *** with an older woman
in a time-machine.
when we were done
and out of the machine
I was charged with
statutory ****.

eat the whales.
save the children,
theyre on sale.
buy em fill em
up with nails.
and watch the sun set sail...

when i find out where i am
ill get going.
when i find out where im going
ill be there.

i would sacrifice you to these
higher powers
if it werent by the hands
of an equal degenerate.

the filth of our kind
is better left without
description.

when announced
we attempt to cleanse it
from the earth
by boiling and burning it alive
and everything else in its path.

do not forgive us
for we know what we do.

i have an extra limb.
it speaks to me in a strange sign language that we invented and i am its victim.
it gives me intolerable orders:
acts of cruelty and political assassination.
its metabolism is alien and rapid
it feeds off of the rest of me...
i am it's yolk; walking me from
town to town, i am a withering crisp.

i lay my head down and it creeps into my nightmares
claws at the inside of my skull.
48 days are scratched into the walls 48 days...
i hear the other tenants screaming screaming my name in symbols
symbols i do not understand...
satan must be
muttering Madness.

it is because
my life is so large
but my eyes are so small
sending signals to an even tinier mind.

it is the intelligence between atoms.

it is something.

i think it is
a cause to find.

i need a vacation.
somewhere nice.
ill pack all of my things into
a nice suitcase
and jump in it.

liaf is e qislaxic sdypar
wiht lattars es lasg.

daeht is in ist aggs.

If you look upon me,
from above or from below,
being swallowed at all ends
by a gang of thirsty serpents,
then understand that in my eye
i am shaking in a trance
and am only dancing with
my fellow dancing snakes.

HAHAHA

If you watch me
from in the darkness of my closet
which you've wandered into,
not knowing that I have left its door cracked open for you
for the curious candle light
of my small stadium to peer into,
and you unblinkingly catch me
while you're caught in the act
of pouring my body
into a cup
crafted from a piece
of my frozen soul
which I have extracted
from the contents
of the cup itself,
drinking and gargling and giggling while joyfully singing
of the sorrow that the light has while it has to watch,
with nowhere else to go,
then know that my mind
is the light
while I crumble under the comedy
that is its glow.

AHH HAA HAA
HAA HAA HAA HAAA

We are a connection
turned in on itself.

It leaves everything that it brings.

The fornicating black hole
giving birth to itself
is nothing
but the brilliant
uselessness
of any song
that god sings.

Let us sing.

I'll be the bed of wasps.
You be the dreams
of our *** and our dances
nourished and guided by stings.

society is never perfect
an orange is perfect
you can eat an orange
but you are not an orange
we will all steal each others oranges one day
this is grounds for ******
which is why society is never an orange

the distance is a shadow
of your shape i can not touch
so i dance along its edges.

float over to you as an orb of light.

whisper a teeth shattering ecstasy
into the base of your neck
to watch it pour down the canal
of your curving spine
until you are a flood to cover me
with what i can not control.

youre a force as though
pulled by the moon
coming in waves to consume
whatever it is you crash into
with crushing sounds
drowned out by your
bone shattering howls
which are lost
in the ******* wind
of your lip-shivering mouth.

        and all is left quiet and still
                       like both
                the blood-soaked
               prey and predator
          after the heat of the ****.

i hope my life slips by unnoticed.
if it tries to break my heart it wont.
it will be perfect and forgotten.
and i wont be there to die.

Silicone valley.

.

the fruits of life are poison.
a cherry is a nightmare.
a nightmare wakes you up.
you wake up into hunger.
hunger is a pestilence.
the pestilence releases you,
but not before the pestilence
fills the belly of the locust.
the locust breeds love.
and love is the fruit.

the world is constantly
raining red love.

undress me with your naked eyes
a skeleton can tell no lies
but hide the truth
from sleeping spies
to know nothing
is all thats wise.

i was a suit
was always worn
i knew not what else to adorn
my soul with but that shoty form
ive died and im reborn.

Feeling erratically estranged from the human species cloaked in a cocoon of a tinfoil that I have made in my own bedroom... waiting wide-eyed for the walls to call me by name... and I'm a moment of the past, a ***** of the specter to be exhumed.

I am far too sudden and Gone Too Soon

What would I be without all of this room?

when i think of dying
my actual moment of death
i cry.
its then that i think of everyone ive ever loved
and all the things ive known.
but when we die
most of us experience pain
and fear
and think of only our continuation.
of our selfish selves.
and our arms flail about and we moan.
and our arms reach for things on nightstands assuming they are more air.
or blood.
or health.
but we agonize.
and we die.
like poisoned spiders.
in a glass filled with smoke.
and that is our world.
and you live there.
and you may be the man
or the child
holding down the glass.

i lie in bed
with you at night
without you

my skin sees
the plates shift
under the curve
of the space
between your neck
and your jaw
hanging open
and breathing

our hands
have never touched.

and we bloom like bursting hearts
but are quiet like petals
at our funeral.

the air
and the pharomones
in the air
rush over
from where they should be

to touch you
and smell you
and live on your skin.

but you can not be touched

because

you are your own dress.

you are flamenco,
a dance of pure passion
cutting through the colors
that spill and drown the music
until the curtain is closed
the guitar has died
and the stage consumes you whole.

the audience left to wander
forgetting where they live
only picking sweet flowers
from their memory to eat.

if you try your very best to lose
youll eventually win.
parking somewhere
after driving nowhere.

iremember being in a tree
At the park in my neighborhood
Watching two clowns
Smoking cigarettes
A man and a woman together

And we all watched their Macaw walk on the dead bush branch

When you're ****** out of your mind and you're laying in a tree, watching this, about 15 or so, you talk about it when youre 30 or so.

The Woman-

Make naked
the thing
which covers you.

The Dress-
                        -has no soul
                    - is naked inside

I.
-peel the skin from my eyes.

For eternity

Jim and Fred.

drinking
drowning

dead.

a chair is unnerved
by the weight of your head.

its legs tremble

a leg breaks.

the ground is flattered
by your closeness
but unaware
of how it goes
unnoticed.

...who wrote this??

dances between the dimensions.
like stepping into a pool,
she is immersed
to every crevice
of her body.

she can drink it down
into her ******
it resonates in its chamber
she feels like a phonograph
skreaming and shaking
then laughing
then more.

peel the light off of our bodies.
hang it to make a tent.
a tent to live and die inside of.

i sleep inside the lions mouth
and pray that it will eat me.
it never does.
there is no god.

i do every irritating
and filthy thing i can
in its mouth
so it will finally become annoyed
and be rid of me-

-  trying to swim down its throat
   ******* under its tongue
   chewing and scratching
   its cheeks and its gums.

but i must have faith
only in myself..


i have been eating my own flesh
for three days now.
ive amputated my left leg
below the knee
and am enjoying myself
very, very much.

i will work my way
up my body
until i am finished.

it brings
such a spread of delight to my face
so immaculate
to know that
my own smile

is my dessert.

what a fascinating man i was.

a basketball sits still
and alone
in a vacant playground
filled with only
the stare of the moon.

a small bicycle
lies on its side
just outside the gate.

a family shakes and cries
next to a telephone
silent and avoiding the facts.

a man is fat
off of the contents
of the child
who he sweats out
dazed and in a
fog of zen.

the moon
continues its search
for nine months.

and that same child is found
in a new body
with a new happy family.

twenty-six years later
the child is a man
with a child of his own.

that child is stolen
from a playground
vacant except for
the stare of the moon.

the man searches and finds
his child
in the back bedroom
of an aging fat man.

the moon smiles
and rests its eyes
and dreams of
this beautiful revenge.

hey. i live in ft.lauderdale. im not gonna waste a bunch of time and space on this, but im lonely. ive never had an encounter with another man before but ive always wished i had the ***** to. if YOU have the ***** then come cure me of my loneliness. please. im very good looking, 25 yo, 6 ft, 130 Lbs. and im hard right now. ; - )

they feed us to eachother

have you ever squeezed to smell a bag filled with generations of ded flies?
youll kno it wen i spread my ded wounds over your airholes
as you suffocate on my nourishment.
slipping your name from my tongue to your ear while you sleep.

I woke up this mornin
I swear I died
Well I died this mornin
My eyes opened up wide
And I saw God
And I saw that none of us are perfect.
....
As loud as a church bell I heard it
Everybody in this life is wrong.
...
Well stay up out my business you God
I known that since the day I was born
...
And ever since that day
I been beaten down and worn
On the day that I die
There'll be no me left to mourn
...
Between the trees those leaves
Walkin with the wind
Don't talk about those trees no more

my life is so
tiny and exposed
that you may never
know its there
the way you
avoid
a homeless person
on the srreet
even if theyre
asleep.

i would let the scientist turn me into a man-sized bug, shed my shell to give you an exoskeletal armor to wear. Protect you from the madness.

an insect stole my jacket and
wore it around town
and no one noticed.
i saw him and
crushed him
and no one
cried.

several dozen leaves fall
all at the same time
around me
on the
ground
and there
is no wind

its abscission.

it feels like a bunch of baby birds are being born down there and they all want to fly away.

there are the many ways
i could try to explain
what a deep dark hole it is..
but the bottom of the this pit
is so far down
you wouldnt be able
to hear me
if i did.

Yellow.
Toast.
Catfish.
The Great Masturbator.

it has three eyes
to mesmerise

you never know when it is winking

seducing

you never know what it is thinking

deducing

it is always
just tricking
and tricking.

its a neighbor
i want to light
a fire of
to their house
but its connected to mine
so i sit
and i consider,

smoking cigarettes
with a can of gas
as an ash tray
to pass the night
and that racket
they make.

with my foot tapping
on the foot
of a chair
in the yard.

my neighbor was sick of living until his organs quit and he died.
the only one in the complex I could talk to.
he knew there was nothing special about the sun and the moon.
there was no difference between them.
his sky was a wasteland.
his trash was his treasure...

he would ramble to me and sing to the trees and scream at the cars when they'd go screaming by.

he would explain to me vague and obtuse times- these stories.

-how one of his wives was more beautiful when she had died.

-how he dropped his son off in the middle of nowhere,
and months later the boy had returned a man...a killer of bears in fact.

-how they had made a statue of him.
a tribe somewhere in Vietnam.
and how he could still hear them speaking to him in ceremonies.
How he could taste the offerings sometimes in his morning coffee, or a few times mid-sentence with me.

and he would really go on about the thing he loved the most.
the only thing he had ever loved;
his pet plastic bag.

he would say these things and you couldn't respond..there was no need to.

he composed a will.
comprised of two lines-

the things I own will be burned but
my pet plastic bag I leave to michael

I respected this anomaly. This freak of nature. This neighbor. This man.
so I honored his request.

I wore shoes then and I had a shoebox I kept.

I engineered the burning of his possessions.
sifted through the frowzy living conditions of mostly nothing but a few standard chairs and esoteric books of esoteric things: symbols, dead languages.
Some ancient looking artifacts which were hard to trash because I'm sure they were either valuable or priceless.

a jar of teeth.

early on I had found the only plastic bag in his dry apartment in what looked to be a canopic jar lined with copper and more strange symbols wrapped around a grueome scene of children being eaten head-first by a many headed beast.

I kept the whole unit, figuring it was the appropriate container, and kept it stowed away in my once empty shoebox, tucked away more in the back top right of my sensible utilitarian closet.

Out of sight from me as it made me feel uneasy.

i bought a gun

i live in a helicopter over the city

everything too ***** to land

i see crimes from here
and i dont care
who lives
or who dies.

i see horses running races.
winners resemble losers.

the ocean is sewage
the sand is termites
the streets are drains
draining the victims.

wives and families.

the people are bobbers
to catch goliath beasts
from underneath.

   they sell their bodies for *****
                       filthy
                      clothes.

to cover up
their shameful ashes.

deep down
they want what i want,

me and the goliaths;

they want to crash
and choke
and be eaten.

someone to set a fire
to clean up the mess.

a fire to clean itself.

i love life
and youre in it.

every piece built this thing.

every thing destroyed.

the building blocks for dust
and the moisture it enjoys.

water flows through me
and you are swimming.

the language they use to connect
starts changing.
everyone who engages is a threat.
to make eye-contact is to ******.
laughter is empty with ulterior motives.
what they seem to be is unfathomable.
a strange, violent species.

my spine curves
& my fingers thin
as i retreat
from their
false lights
& spiritual prisons,
into a dark
calm place
where the sound of
dripping water
fills me with
near death peace
as i sit until
i become stone.

When the trash pile around you start making sense and speaks to you through its open fly ridden grin then you know that you've been in all the wrong places that you shouldn't have been

When you cover yourself and sheets of plastic and rabbid American nightmares

A ***** cartoon is the only thing that can cover you

And if you draw yourself into a state of emaciation you eat the crayon and are full again