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

theres a person
stuck in the wall
of the old abandoned building.

i am drunk
but who are you?

walkin down the train tracks
Against the train
and walkin my pet
Plastic bag

the only tool is your mind.
nothing is vivid.
your own suffering wants to leave you but you dont think you
can survive alone
so you stay.

show me pictures of my mortality
and ask me:
   who was he?

classroom setting the table.

as you transcend spiritually you must know that you are not learning but you are growing.
Learning implies that you know something, and to know leaves no more room for growth:
to know is a form of apex.

-a seed, knows that it is a seed, and that there is dirt. It knows this because it has not grown.
-a plant, growing from the seed, knows it was a seed. It knows the dirt, it knows the sun, it knows the rain. It knows this because it has not grown into death.
-all you can know is that you are growing, and even that is something that you will one day unknown.

Screaming into the darkness of the ocean..
hoping that a monster will surface and eat me.

My apartment purrs around me sometimes.

an inhale is a thing so massive
you can not grab it in your head.
a venus-fly-trap
is the crack laughing
from your skull.
busy as bees
trying to meet its needs.
anything that you think,

it ***** itself;

you swallow the stink..

there is no water well enough
you're willing to drink,
you die instead.

you boil on the road
looking to walk
to the place you meet you
when you live nowhere to go.

given a prison
a hell that you sell
is the silence that saves you from
the inside of your soul.

you imagine a life so loud
it screams on through the path of
your life,
tearing the landscape from
black to alright
and, well, black was much better
cuz death was the light.

so give it up...
here, ill inspire you.

there is no straight line
to this point.

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

all the deformed people stay inside.
investing in sadness and hobbies.
its as good a reason as any
to stay away from the crippled souls
that inhabit the earth.

hapless, melting streets
and burning homes;
a society of self-immolating effigies.

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.

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.

caterpillar crawled in to my ear
it pupated, waited
quiet in the dark.

my mind flies towards all light.

they say your body needs to die
before you can know
but i wouldnt trust
their living mouths

my head is a moon of many
in the strange orange
alien sunrise.

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.

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.

she has crooked teeth
and is the tiniest.
and in the cafe
where she works
for three days now
i sit and wait like a fly for a spider.

but maybe
this time
Love is not my spider.

maybe.

or maybe shes too drunk on coffee
and has become incapable
of weaving a decent web.

but maybe
i blend
with her
senses,
like a smoker
can't smell the smoke
on your clothes
or taste it
in your
mouth.

its the coffee.

its become
the mud
in my veins
while i sit
and wait
to be
consumed.

just before the end
he killed himself.
then everyone applauded
and he took a bow.

i once sed
if you took every song
ever made
or ever sung
and played them
all at once
it would be
the sound of god.

step out of the skin.

walk many miles
into the ocean
to dissolve.

how you treat a person
is who they can become.

reality is so really strange
that it is strangely unreal.

**** 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.

staring at eachother
through telescopes
we show our skin.

stare into eachothers lense
and we see nothing
but our pure
naked
self.

You can put me
in the ground.

You can surely do that.

If you have hands,
sure

and a knife, yes.

a gun, of course.

or,
i don't know..

run me down
with your car

toss me in
a vat of acid

or maybe
train your
Lioness

to maul me

and

to eat me.

you could get inventive with it.
inventiveness is good
i'd adore you for that.

or,

well..

i'd say,
make it
an old fashioned
kind of affair.

swing a shovel
well into my head
and bury me
where i lie.

you'll want a shovel.
yes you will.
your hands,
they're ***** enough already,
i'd say.

and,
it's an awful lot of work-
those graves.

can't make em too shallow.
you don't want to hang.
cuz they'll find you.
and they'll hang you.
they can't dig enough graves
when they forge for themselves
the RIGHT to do so.

...above ground cemetery...

They make Junkyards
out of neighbors.
strangers..

-anyone..

..anyone they can CATCH!
that they can get
enough sets of HANDS on
to hold down.

To judge.

With the collective mind
of the many-headed-beast.

and you're one of the moving pieces
in that swarm of hate..

..that frenzy of Blood-thirst.

that Madness of Zombies...

You are a vital *****.
I've seen how you Pulse,
like the red in your eyes..

and,
so,

my friend.
my enemy.
I tell you this:

You can bury me,
i'll allow it.
I might flinch.
I might scream.
The body is involuntary.
It's a shaky contraption.
And you can bury it,
however you want,
but you can not **** me..

THAT....you can not do.

No matter how much you might hunger for it.

No matter
what DEVIL
your name may be.

You can not **** the Heart
which beats outside of this body.

You can not **** the Heart
which beats beyond this world.

ill feel like a small town
when im ready for it.

a table of mannequins
enjoying a bowl
of plastic fruit.

with their glass eye,
watching the fake flowers grow.

i walk in the room,
in the fashion of skin,
starving for beauty,
and am reminded
     of why i was
     excommunicated.

today i died
but came back
to tell you.

i thought it was music
but i was talking to myself.

******* my red silhouette.

the sky is stuck
in a loop
repeating

i dont write well when i drink
but i do drink well
when i write poorly.

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.

keep your eyes on
the horizon
for the rising sun

we've got that devil

******* in the office

taking turns with it

The world is a baker
and you are the bread.
I hope you are ded.

There is wear on my life as it skids to a halt and is scattered across the highway and into a tree.

im sitting still
waiting for the paint to dry

breathing it in
it gets me high

i hope
the paint
it never dries

it turns into an animal

it turns to me and smiles

you still walk into my soul sometimes.
and i sort of look at anything to distract me.
you might be my health but i dont want to steal yours.

i hope im doing the right thing
by trying to suppress
all the terrible things ive done.

my head lays in my hands.

it must be exausted.

my neck
must be
somewhere
off in the distance.

a flower lives inside me
reaches past its peak
and im impaled.

they pay good money
to sing to me in the garden.
the statues try to walk towards me
to kiss me but they harden.
a hollowed out chest
with a nest for a heart.
the bones of baby birds
caged in the bones of old birds.

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