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mike Sep 2013
i love you all, but oh boy.
..wuts gonna happen?
404 · Jun 2013
headache medicine
mike Jun 2013
i bought a gun
403 · Apr 2015
the surrogates
mike Apr 2015
those who occupy space but
fill it with nothing but a body.
who drape themselves in an identity
provided by a paid designer.
who do use their own hand to paint the shell of themselves
but close off what any soul would see if it made its way through the false layers of color and skin.
who thoroughly entertain their friends with the most intimate details of their shallow hearts and selfish behavior.
who hiss instructions like
bugs with status to the ones who serve them as if they were
snakes with gold.
who have no smell of their own
and sweat what is poison to them.
currency flows through their veins leaving deposits of poverty residue in their derelict hearts.
who live in mausoleums with functioning fridges and bowls of plastic fruit.
whos **** will remain long after the rest of their bodies rot away;
they will continue to possess a portion of the earth with their clinical beauty, a momento of their spiritual decay.
i see them all the time but get no sense that they are of a species.
their sentiments
disease the flowers
around the place
in which they stand.
other than that
they have no presence.
402 · Apr 2015
cave dweller
mike Apr 2015
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.
401 · Feb 2015
dissident march
mike Feb 2015
there's no one in the streets.
they're all dying in their homes
rotting in their chairs
collecting flies and
huffing raid.
400 · Jul 2015
super man hypothesis
mike Jul 2015
if my ego
were bigger than i
then i would feel
very small.
399 · Jul 2015
UBOC
mike Jul 2015
i crawled in here
like an emaciated
****** up
catipillar.

im gonna fly out
like a half-*******
butterfly.

a belly fat
off the nectar
of this place.
399 · Aug 2015
every drop of water
mike Aug 2015
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.
in the channels
under bridges
in each one
of my atoms.

to each one of my atoms
through the channels of
my molecules.
mike Aug 2015
they fight crime.
or they would.

shes always at home,
trying on different capes
in the mirror
seeing if they look good.

and hes always out of breath
when he gets to the
scene of the crime
after running the whole way
because he cant afford
to fix the car
or even take the bus
cuz she wont get a job
cuz she spends
all his money
and all her time
on those *******
******* capes.
396 · May 2017
Seagulls
mike May 2017
The seagulls fly in and out of each other extracting biological trash from their Fake Plastic bodies
394 · Oct 2015
a treasure is found
mike Oct 2015
turning
into
an
inanimate
object.
393 · Mar 2017
we took the ride
mike Mar 2017
There was a demon in the cave of the mountain I asked him if he was bound to anyone in particular or if he was a free agent he asked me what it was that I needed him to do and what for I told him don't worry about that if you're free I have a job for you it'll be worth more than anyone's soul even your own I don't know how you think whether you'll consider it malevolent or benevolent but in the midst of the ride that we take in the places that we will go you will find a value in your strange ethereal existence that you could have never imagined an ecstasy that you never could have known... and so we rode practically drowning in the vast ocean of the sky in the sick and thirsty desert where hope grows in the form of a cactus every few miles; it keeps everything it needs from the greedy dirt giving nothing back unless you find yourself deranged in the middle of the desert in the middle of the night willing to ****** a cactus...i dropped him off at a Texaco. he was flustered and said he was running a fever but it was only fear I could smell. It leaking out of his semi porous Cactus skin. he had nowhere to go by the time that I was done with him he had become all but desensitized by sin. The last I heard he had started a family of his own: two girls and a boy and a wife who was faithful half the time. I tried to contact him by phone. he heard it was me and said it was bad reception and hung up. I asked a friend last month what happened to him. he said the last that he had heard he had fled the country and no one's seen him since. I can't quite remember what the task was that I needed help with..what it was that I had commissioned him to do....what we had set out for..... whatever it was I'm sure I accomplished it with eloquence, Elegance and genius to say the least. he's out there somewhere burying himself in the dirt of the desert trying to escape the darkness of his own fear.. losing sleep with the image of my cackling face gnawing at the back of his eyeballs from the inside of his nightmares. waking up blind and dead, wishing a cactus, like a venus fly trap, would break through the ceiling of his new cave and consume him back to the other realm. I've decorated his old cave, the haunt where I found him at peace, with chairs that snap when you sit in them like rat traps and a bed covered in glue in case he is ever compelled in a drunken peyote hallucinatory state to wander back ambling in and stumble into the Comfort the old life that he'd known so that as I make my rounds across this great malicious Earth I can find him again one day and become the cactus that consumes him.... Being now the cactus which consumes him while he is disintegrating somewhere in my churning bowels. passing him like a blackoutdrunk yesterday. Wondering when it is I will allow myself to die,, and where it is that I will  go. conversing with the high noon moon. Grinning at me like a devil I once knew.
393 · Aug 2015
rake your scales on my skin
mike Aug 2015
**** snakes from your skin
one by one and
in masses.

the mother lizard
vomits her egg
and the child
lives there
forever.

until the dust syphons
the bones from this cage
we are a constant, ripening, pulse.
392 · May 2017
Wokemup
mike May 2017
We are a village in East Africa
praying for rain in our mind,
and that is where it rains.

Washing the paint from our soul
we can't tell each other apart.

Meditate for several centuries
after sleeping and dying
in your dream.

Wake up in another life.
Waiting for each other.
To love again.
390 · Jul 2016
flight.
mike Jul 2016
there. a percussive mind.
a dream of a bird
fighting its reflection
in the water.
until one finally drowns
and one learns to fly.
389 · Jul 2015
SKLTNoBONEZ
mike Jul 2015
i look inside myself long enough
and see a skeleton
trying to dig his way out.
389 · Jul 2015
crying ocean
mike Jul 2015
a being
pre-human
plays so perfectly
a violin
inside the belly
of a leviathan.

the sea swells
with his emotion.

the leviathan will never wake.
mike Jul 2015
i see them every time i look at the sky out of the corner of my eye.

they must be so restless
to live so late
theyre helpful
and hurtful
and endless.

make us our miracles.
give us our gods
feed us the mystery and magic.
388 · Jan 2013
come kill the author.
mike Jan 2013
my address is 14 S.E. 10 st. apt A.
ft.lauderdale Fl. 33316.
phone# is 561-222-1019.
i will be here most of the day.
387 · Apr 2015
street performer
mike Apr 2015
i act as a regular person would.
doing useless things
portraying a useless person.

and i do my best
to seem content
in my role.

thats the joke,

but no one
in the audience
gets it.

but they still clap
when the clap sign lights up
and they seem to enjoy
the sound of the laugh track.
386 · Feb 2015
lycanthropy
mike Feb 2015
a crazy man attacked me in the morning before i killed a little boy in Cannes.
i prayed for a miracle
when i woke
next to his tattered body
but only got sick
from his flesh.
im much more concerned about
my own flesh now and
need to end it.
this is a terrible waste of time and
385 · Sep 2013
youll do a great job today.
mike Sep 2013
i hope you breathe in enough carbon monoxide to **** you on your way to work.
385 · Feb 2015
animals kissing
mike Feb 2015
the love of all living things
makes me blind.
the love that all creatures have.
id be happy to be a cloud watching.
falling onto their faces
as drops
and melting
between their hands.
383 · Jan 2015
wolf pack heat
mike Jan 2015
wolf pack heat
383 · Nov 2015
i am the enemy.
mike Nov 2015
an octopus.
its soul lodged deep in its throat.
an arm sent down
to seek and retrieve.
another forced down,
annoyed by its attempt
at a spritual quest,
chokes until the other 6
are a set of limp waste.

the soul melts back into the water
and the salt.

the body becomes
no more than sand.

the color of a rock;
predators see,
but know:
they are no match
for the true enemy.
383 · Feb 2015
blisters
mike Feb 2015
the stairway to heaven
is paved with nothing
mike Feb 2013
...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...
380 · Feb 2015
blur your eyes
mike Feb 2015
now imagine dying
379 · Feb 2015
timeless
mike Feb 2015
something as classic as
a man feeling the rain
in his knee.

or a woman's singing
curing the man
of everything.

and two people,
touching and healing
in the rain.
378 · Mar 2015
and fake smiles
mike Mar 2015
photographs become
the saddest things.
and moments are
so special, yes,
but to pervert them
is a form of slavery.
mike Nov 2015
i put the self
into the jar
on the table.

but it sings
so loud
from longing
that it breaks.

i wonder
if ill ever clean it up.
376 · Aug 2015
straight line to the spiral
mike Aug 2015
my tongue is a slug
to crawl into
your shell.
375 · Aug 2013
nothing to me
mike Aug 2013
i thought i was eating food but it was eating me..
making my body too fat and healthy to leave any room for a soul.
i thought i was being creative but i was just stealing nonsense from the clouds,
cerebral earth floats free for everyone to claim as their own.
to think that gaining knowledge is to learn, well i dont know,
but  i think that that must be contracting a disease,
attacking the useless space i consume beyond the cells and bones of me.
and i thought i would sit under a tree...or something as pure:
that i thought i would **** myself, cuz nothing was there.
to use my mind to put an end to my mind. .
like cave paintings of a tiny man with a gun on the inside walls of my skull. .
and you think you have a purpose,
but not until its done, and probably not until youre ded.
the happiness from visions of buddha
the happiness from visions of christ
374 · Oct 2015
the bus drivers
mike Oct 2015
they are

the ones who
opperate the buses.

it is a heavy civic duty.
373 · Feb 2015
shangri la
mike Feb 2015
Theres a fire burning
somewhere in the world
and nobody knows about it.
I'm packing a bag
and moving there
in the morning.
mike Dec 2013
we could cut the dictionary by a third.
we could cut the writing in hundredths.
who knew there was a d in there.
mike Nov 2015
from under the table
a child begs
and pleads
for someone to make
majesty
or
sense
of its fantasies.
but its fantasies will have to do.
everything outside of
the tables skirt
is so preposterous,
so devoid of character.
370 · Aug 2015
prisoner of elation
mike Aug 2015
my lips are sore
my jaw is cracked
and my body is raw
from thinking of you.

dehydrated and weak
my eyes are glued open.

the bears
have broken
into my tent
and ***** me.
370 · Nov 2015
no title
mike Nov 2015
there is no audience.
there is no performer.
there is only the empty room
that the dead dog lives inside of.
369 · Apr 2015
mound of grass
mike Apr 2015
constantly getting better
at being worse.
my ineptitude is rotund.
i enable it with
all the fats.
i skeletalize myself
towards a very sad suicide.
alone in the woods
ignored by the trees.
lying & waiting
for the ants
to cover me.
until i blend into
the surroundings.
mike Oct 2016
my broken soul
wanders to your house.
uninvited and unwelcome.
my body has become a ghost
haunting only your memory.
366 · Jun 2015
to Christina Garcia:
mike Jun 2015
ive fallen in love with your words.
i want to watch them run naked from your mouth.
i will pamper them with paper they can dress themselves in.
i want to feel the vibrating colors they give
to the shapeless light of the world
when they speak.

i want you to invite me
to watch them make love,
and watch their childrens bones grow.

i want to give them my kidney

and take a vow of silence for you
with everything but my eyes and ears.

i will not be able to die until i see your response....

which i will hold in my hand
until it rots.
read dreaming in cuban.
365 · May 2015
the drugs are wearing off
mike May 2015
the sun rose
of beautiful wet berries
thousands of screaming people
sneak into our dream
of nothing but love
will rise the sun again.
364 · Sep 2013
becoming much smarter
mike Sep 2013
i built an engine,
started her up.
watched the fans go.
watched the gears.
and stuck my head in it.
no notes
363 · Jun 2016
sleeping
mike Jun 2016
i lay my body to sleep.
my heartbeat sounds like its
trying to tiptoe across my pillow.
it must think that im dead
and its trying to leave.
mike Aug 2015
a darkness alone
in the human.

where it is wrapped
in perfect peace.

perfect pleasure.

drinking its sweat
and talking its philosophy
in full detail
to itself.

-laughing.

-grinning.

swirling its ten-inch finger
around the rim
of its glass-

-it is the ringing in your head..

drunk in the cave
with spiders
walking
through
the nightmare
carrying away
the vaguer pieces
on the well defined rine
of their oil-slick backs.

nesting
and nurturing
incestuous pods
to light the walls.

to ignite the glow
of its vacant grin.

the mist swims out
and dies.

scanning your body
and watching the show
of your soul decomposing

with its ****** eyes

half open and
tasting you.

rotting the tongue
which talks in
your broken,
burnt-down
asylum of a mind.
mike Sep 2015
a white ghost stares at me
and dares me
to tempt.

battles sing
deafening
the opposing.
360 · Jul 2015
angel meat.
mike Jul 2015
a family is snowed in
in a small house
miles from the
neighbors.

they pray.

an angel comes
to guide the way to safety.

the father thinks better of it.

he shoots the angel.

they feed on the meat for weeks.
359 · Jul 2015
the lifespan of these words
mike Jul 2015
by the time it comes out
its already decaying.

staring at it
wont bring it back.

its life had no meaning.

and its left buried
behind an ophanage
with all the other children.
358 · Dec 2013
injoy
mike Dec 2013
i like the werd comedy because its a mixture of the werds tragedy and comedy.
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