stick bug hiding
in the tree of life
shaking and
mimicking wind

it is no longer still and poetic.
it is now a bunch of
unrelated things,
and i am one of those things.

a spider
stuck in its web with its fly
watching its legs go by.

i want everyone to be the medium.
everyone: the peace-bringer.
beings of light, its all the same light.
beings of love.
caught in a steady stream.
no one leads the way.
every living creature
is the prime example
of the perfect specimen.
to graze the edge of
beings of love
leaves lines etched
long and low
into the soul.
and the soul is
all we've ever had
and all that we have left.
speak and listen through the distance
to close in on learnings of love.
we may never be nearer to perfect
as we are when we are near.

the satanimal burns alive
in its skinternal lucifire.
it is a howlingering echollaboration
to a mind-shattering deafnest;
a cracked skulltivatingling cripples
its skeletongue from speaking.
-a fusion of chaoscillating worderivative confusion.

there's no way
that you can be crazy.

it is up to you
what is this Crazy.
but you can not define
what is this crazy.because
you will always be crazy to some.

-this is how you are always crazy.

life is just
this foreign object
which i
must

insert
into my ****

in order
to find any pleasure
in it.

if there is a wind you better have a kite.
otherwise you are not a man.

gods good girls are jews.
american jews.
sometimes i want to **** em.
im pretty sure they want to
**** me too.

i guess theyre not so good.
but god does like a show.

temp, rogue, secret.

without a country.

without a home.

without a family.

-no identity.

a watch with 6 zones.

nothing but time.

nothing but to sit
and stare
and still.

spinning fan blades.

the languge i know.

the gun is the silencer.

the mission is quietude.

a mission met.

i know
whats wrong
with all the ones
that i know.

their drums drive them crazy.
every time their heart beats.
they have too much heart.

it keeps them alive
it keeps them strong
but life
and strength
arent enough.

theyre searching for
no,   hunting

the thing
the creature
the unknown being

which digs in tunnels
under their skin

lures them
from the sound
of the tranquil mind
and leads them
while looking back
and laughing
flickering its
bioluminescent bulb
into the massive
swelling halls
of the massive
swelling heart.

fury, rage
and shrieking, laughing madness
are the sound of the engines.

the citizens come in and out
with the weather and are
afraid and eventually
never return.

but this is where
the ones that i know stay.
because the animal
will never leave.
and will only die,
finally die,
when staring them in the eyes
laughing and choking
around their necks
only satisfied
when their enemy
smiles and shines
golden joy
green glowing excitement
and chokes just
a little bit harder.

their love is cruel
and untameable
and makes crooked grins
with broken teeth,
kisses just to spite.

sometimes, you can have your cake and eat it too...
unfortunately, thats pretty much the icing on the cake.

you leave me alone and i write poetry.
you leave me together and i fall apart.

down the boulevard
there is a street

down the street
there is a sewer

down the sewer
there is a home

in the home
there is a being

in that being
there is a universe

in that universe
there is a world

on that world
there is an island

on that island
there is a boulevard

everything i touch touches me then turns to death..
so i suggest you dont start loving me and allow me to hold your breath.
                                                         ­                     
                                                                ­       sincerely- the end

crazy man speaks to me
i cant hear the snakes
in his mouth

evil visits me
while im asleep
while im awake

it speaks in me
until i think
its words are what i said

whats left of me
is a disease
i beg for it to take

its heart beats in my head.

i would not
give my life away
to the perfect piece
or let a sham engineer
take its credit
from me.

i love myself too much
and hate him just enough
to recognize
the difference.

but the perfect piece;

that is painfully
beyond my grasp.

i would quickly cut
my hands from me
and train them
to walk
and to find
what it is
that i seek.

pay them in gold
or in
the beauty of feet.

take myself
from my body.

leave it laying around.

i can hardly
train a cat,
much less
myself.

and cats display ballet.
the music to accompany it
plays while i watch.
no words can describe
what no words can describe.

a signature
is stepping in ink
unaware
and walking across
the page.

cats and mice
are the only ones
with names.

Kxxkfnsjdfmdnfi work out
so i camxmsndjdjdnfjgnlsndnb x x fkd d d didjdbrj
waste my time f dkdjr
on
considering my yshwhdiody.
Zgwuusudiziooshspwmxbody.

grow my hair
and make a vudu doll
of myself

and bring it to life
so that it can **** me.

the universe is this
big dumb hunk of metal

a busted RV
on the side
of a freeway

in the middle of nowhere

with all this **** speeding by

and no one can see it
because we live in the flat screen
hanging on its
livingroom wall
next to the pictures you stole
in their frames
from the megastore
while looking suspiciously alone.

the capstone
of the pyramid
of myself

the enlightenment
at the end
of my virtue

the love
at the gate

girl: have you seen my friend?

me: was she the one with the weird leathery dress made of human skin
carrying the severed human head
which doubles as a purse

i saw you showing off
and getting along
and making conversation.
you were all doing the same thing.
it was like watching a bunch of animals having ***.
it did nothing for me.

we dug and dug
our fingers broke
we thought we found something
worth a ****.

we added fire
and it got hot
and we made things
that do a lot of things.

they made our food
made the earth broke
and took our food
but we still keep em.

they sit on our mantle
eating up our dust
so we make some things
to clean em off with.

our parents die
and we still keep em
and give em to our kids
now there family heirlooms.

but the kids have better things
and so they learn how
to dismantle them
and they build em back different
turn em into cars
and drink beer
while they watch em go fast.

faster and faster
and faster and faster
until its not considered fast
and everyone loses interest now.

and they get old
and choke on dust
from all the dust
on all the things
and their kids know
so their kids go
up in the air and wonder
"why is the earth broke?"

and they live there
in shiny things
that float on fire
but the fire will die.

and they come falling
back to earth
and wonder
            
              "what the hell is this.
          a junkyard or a graveyard?"

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.

i lost my mind in the fire
going back in to find it
i found it
it was under the bed somehow
medium-rare
and delicious.

something so beautiful
can do anything
it wants
including
pass before
everyones eyes.

you can crawl
into your own mouth
but once inside
you can not
climb back out.
dig a system of tunnels
from ***** to *****.
set up camp
in a hollowed out heart.
make a small fire
rubbing two bones together.
a smoke plume rises
and mushrooms in your skull.

ascend through fire.
you bang on the drum.

The wooden chair,

is painted before me.

four squares
will make a square
on the sea
or in the sky.

every word you speak
is a monolith
built by
perfect desert.

it casts shadow
so narrow
you are in
constant orbit
with the sun.

all the satellites in the sky
are held by strings.

and i can't see them.
they're lost to me.

everything, is lost to me.

and this is what attracts me.

you can see it.
and you can taste it.
but you don't know who you are
while you are doing it.

it is the
invisible mass
passing through you.

you end up where i am.
you dont know how you got there.
youre starved and youre weak
like youve been walking for days.

i have some food set up.
at the bottom of a lake.
we make our way to it
i move the water with my mind.

you eat and you feel better.
youre strength returns to you.
youre mind returns to you
but the food it isnt real.

its what i put into your mind
at the bottom of a lake.

we talk of how weve been.
youve been so lost without me.
this is what you feel
but these emotions are not real.

im feeling weak
you start to see
the ugly in my face.

i force with all my strength
the love i send into your head.

you start to shake
convulse and sweat
my eyes are rolling white.
im absent.

your skin starts
to crack with heat
you scream
i wake
and you ignite.

your heat is white and floating
and youre floating above me.

i forced love in your mind
and were quieted by the lake.

inside water falls into pools.
and fish relax by the shore on chairs.
flower petals stretch and yawn
and smell sweet when they rot.
the gum on the floor is still moist
and great for your teeth.
the animals play jokes on each other
and we all laugh
and chew gum
and blow bubbles
and laugh when they pop
and get stuck in
our fur.
there's a house with enough room
for everybody to be close.
its a party
with everyone I've ever loved.
they all walk like memories
and leave no mess behind.
but there is an abandoned bathroom
with no working light
or running water.
inside is a child
sitting naked in the tub
waiting for the mother
to come make warmth
and calm
and clean.
pictures and paintings
of pretty things
hang on the chocolate walls
but a floating heart
screams its pain
down the halls
and I try to ignore it
but it follows me close
attached by a rope
of tissue and muscle.
so i sing it to sleep
in a language
that not even i understand
or will ever forget.
and i rub my own ears
and smile like an idiot.
and when we rest
we're so filled with joy
that all of our softness
expands and cracks
us open until we're
a tragic pile on the ***** sidewalk.
fighting the cold with beer
or talking to women we don't know
instead of keeping
the women we love
warm
when we wrap ourselves
around there soft bodies.

your genius is so stupid.

crisis averted

she lived inside my body
in a house painted on a wall.
i stole her wisdom
from a small wooden box there
and now sometimes
i dont know if im
in my life or
her hallucinations.

i speak with
her tongue
in my mind
to this day
and im
always
confused
but she sings
so pretty
i never
stop
thinking.

i come from the veda
and im going back.

my family tree is a skeleton.
the truth is in these bones.

theres a bird
in the vending machine.

if you pay to let it out

god will reveal to you
your heart.

there are tue things.
asymmetrical and symmetrical.
this makes the whole asymmetrical.

i don't like the way its set up
how its built
or what it offers.

it turns perfectly good air
into poison
perfectly good people
into fornicators.

"good morning dave,
i just wanted to tell you
that i said hi."

"thank you
for telling me
that you said that."

it comes with the territory
that i must tell you a scary story
and the details and scenes
are of course very gory
but it must wait
cuz this is very boring.

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.

treading the waters
that circle the sun

waiting
for the beast
that heats
the core
to come
and
**** me.

but i swim in its mouth

play percussion
on its
flaring and shutting gills.

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.

You got a color TV a VCR and a VHS of none other than Groundhog Day... your kid died that night and your wife lost you in the process fighting your cathodes as your life and your gumption drool out of your skin and into the chair that you're sitting in... as you watch and wonder of all the different days that you could have had if you had bought the movie the night before... you sit there watching nothing every night through eyes that belong to no one

i try to swim out
but the cesarian sky
opens up
and pours me
back into your body.

where all the dancing flowers
with all the great knowlege
bind me
and keep me
a secret.

i see the fire
off in the field
and i blend it
with the beauty.

it runs to me
and teaches me
my name.

i feed it
as it pours
its flesh
into my mouth.

and my soul
comes pouring out.

i build little statues of food
for unsuspecting art enthusiasts.
i paint the museums walls
with water and soap paint.
sponge brush.
receive small portrait of
numbers and amounts
autographed by curator.
i trade these for
life sized sculptures
of counterfeit counterfeit money.
i take these and trade them for
little statues of food.
i eat these as a statement.
it is all very conceptual.

i guess i should;
walk a dog
paint a house
read the word
**** time
come to terms
know myself
listen well
go to the movies
take a walk
save a life
change the world
call the press
build a chair
watch for crooks
learn italian
take a bath
cook a meal
shoot a bird
drive to work
dance with soul
sing with heart
feel with both
live without
die instead
make amends
tell the world
be at one
free.