my girlfriend is laying naked in the bed. were watching a useless show about copper. im watching her touch herself. an absent-minded rub. not with a purpose. i almost feel like i shouldnt be watching. its exciting. she catches me eyeing and we smile. shes several days unshaven. i like the length. ive told her. its warm and fuzzy. she pets it now like an animal. everyones docile. keep petting that well behaved creature baby. im locked in like tunnel-vision. means im normal. i like everything she has. her whole body. inside and out. she lays on her back and her thigh-meat rises higher than her torso but maybe just under her breast level. one of us will explode soon. either her massive ******* or me. the end.

fetal
futile
fatal

you tried a neat trick
and fell
and were caught
by the safety net
which cut you
into little squares
which rained down
on the gaping crowd
and crushed their soft
dumb skulls
and got caught
in the backs
of their
gaping
stupid
mouths
and choked them.

in the minds eye
is a minds eye.

we see who blinks first.

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

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

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

it floats in me
like dead birds
in a dead sea.

i cant grab it
and cook it
and eat it.

when the moon shows its ugly face
i know just who i am;
a lychanthrope of a man.

i can not run.
if i run
i drown in the pool
of my own shadow.

beggars come from hell
to befriend me.
to **** the marrow from my shell.

the cave-dwelling spider
is my master.
it gains its grip
on the insect that is
my soul.

what a ***** little insect.

my tongue is a slug
to crawl into
your shell.

leather being tanned
by a ****** in a shed
somewhere in the south.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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

the objects we create are filled with fear.
the mind is empty floating poetry.
we desire and we suffer
we join souls and are alone
there is no home
we have eternity to roam.

last night, my girlfriend had a dream that all the rich people got together and gave all the poor countries of the world rich soil to grow their crops. i had a dream i was doing something dimensional with my mind. the sad thing is, its totally possible. i guess i cant say i dont know where to begin.
i know where to begin.

if my ego
were bigger than i
then i would feel
very small.

swimming in a bottomless pit
of penniless men
drowning in aluminum cans.

a smoke-stack
cooling glass
back into sand.

diveinneverland.

your kids are all dead
and you keep all their heads
in a suitcase
as a memento.

you're just passing through
a city passing away
so you stay
and watch as they let go.

you never had what you lost
and you didn't even know;
to be a slave is an occupation,
guard your business
mind your station.

i will poor myself
into a cup
and drink heavily.

Roses are red
Your eyes are blue
Therefore your eyes are not roses
Its true
And if you disagree
Then you are *******
But I think you're beautiful
Please marry me
I'll give you money

i don't have rosey cheeks.
i don't have anything like that left.
all i have is the closeness of death.

hungry animals leave the woods
and find a job in the city
just to get away
from my collecting dust.

no one wants to choke.
everyone talks their way out of it.

i build a fire and listen to the echos
of someone else's laugh.

alone. alone.

alone.

a voice that i don't recognize.
a voice that talks the talk.
enough to make me walk for days.

until im lost
until im crazed.

enough to stop trying to see
through the haze.

and see the way
for its many ways.

two competing eyes
in fight for a simple
and complete
vision.

none the more
is less the wise.

i don't have rosey cheeks.
i don't have anything like that left.
all i have is the closeness of death.

hungry animals leave the woods
and find a job in the city
just to get away
from my collecting dust.

no one wants to choke.

i build a fire and listen to the echo's
of someone else's laugh.

a voice that i don't recognize.
a voice that talks the talk.
enough to make me walk for days.

until im lost
until im crazed.

enough to stop trying to see
through the haze.

and see the way
for its many ways.

If I had thirty-nine eyes
I'd drop a tear from each one
Onto the tip of each arm
Of the aloe I love so much right now.

It is the teacher
I am the student
It lives so freely
I watch
Perfectly

Can you come teach me
Maybe I'm
Unlearned enough
To have your tenticals
Come and
Free meeeee

What can we feed meeee

the burned down cafe
on the edge of the town
of the schizophrenic daydream.

customers are characters.
pour themselves into cups.

the liquid

shows the portrait

of the souls.

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

tetris fits in itself like a rubix cube explaining its own correctitude,
only being a distraction of logical aptitude in hiding whats inside of its square.
...russian military scientists thought they had us good..
.....but we had every angle covered... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?

hi again. my names mike. im scared. ive been recently diagnosed with acute paranoid schizophrenia, i think. however, the doctor(who is not a real doctor)was inaccurate. setting me up to be his personal test dummy. well, its not gonna happen again. im looking for a team to enact a certain duty. a job for those who seem qualified.

the qualifications?: experience in violence and time travel.

the job?: to never divulge secrets of the job, which involves kidnapping said doctor and retrieving a small metal instrument from within his skull.(i have the needed information for the retrieval of this device.)

the time?: any time before the future. once we've orchestrated then enacted our team meeting, we must use our time travel facilities within the same minute of our arrival, as i have already set our return time for the mission to one minute after the last team member(gregg) arrives on location of said meeting point. we will(once gregg finally arrives, 28 minutes late!) pile into the 8-man machine and activate, sending us to our destination: february 2nd, 1989. this is the date that(we'll call him doctor octopus) doctor octopus received his supposed doctorate from stanford university. we will then obstruct the way between his home and his graduating ceremony by means of designing a car crash scenario. he will be knocked out cold, allowing us easy passage into his car, excavating his limp frame, and bringing it to a secure location(walmart)where we will then inject his brain with a bio-mechanical agent, leaving him there to wake up, confused, and minus a degree. we will then travel to april 2nd, 1999, to re-engage with doctor octopus, to kidnap him in order to extract the mechanism from within his skull, which at this time will be fully grown and functional, having been implanted by us through the injection of the bio-mechanical agent 10 years and 2 months prior. once obtaining said device, we will use it to communicate with the inter-dimentional beings doctor octopus has done the bidding of. we will pose as doctor octopus to gather intelligence as to how to travel through time, allowing the mission success, bringing us back to the original point of departure, arriving exactly one minute after original departure. leaving us with existing alibis(for i know everyone was with their families on groundhog day, 1989. and my birthday, 1999.) and no traceable evidence or witnesses, including yourselves, for i HAVE taken the liberty of going back to all of your days of birth and murdering your mothers with said team still unborn in the wombs, yet have gone back to said dates again to stop myself. allowing for success and no traceable links.

the place?: nowhere. the mission has already been completed. good job team.

the compensation?: 7.79 per hour.

people on this website confuse the very much out of me.
you probably assume that you are like me and you are not one of them, but you probably are.
you probably give yourself too much credit. ive almost stopped. it must come with age. or maybe i was just born to ware out soon. you guys will still be going strong when EVERYTHING goes green. im sifting through the crumbs of industrial revolutions. getting high on the fumes of my own apocalypse. its like this: all you have to do in this life is set a few birds free. not even save em. just go to the store and buy a few gray-blue birds, regular birds, and take em outside, and set em free. after that you dont need to be right by anyone in this world. youve done your part. those birds are out there, makin baby birds makin baby baby birds, long after your good and gone, god rest everyones soul. those birds and baby birds are out there planting trees and ****. keeping the balance. and you can sit around and pleasure yourself or off yourself or whatever your heart decides.

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

all the great music
which makes you want to live
long enough to listen to the song
before you **** yourself
will die.

   but i wont let it even if it kills me

when i sleep in your head
all the animals are dead
and id make it a song
but its a quilt of skin instead.
and i give back to my church
but they think that they are thieves
theyre on the job while i marry
writing checks for alimony.
my three children bury me
inside of all their tombs
and they pass out and know
that im an animal too soon..

fallin asleep at the wheel
and i wake up with no cash
gettin high on garbage
gettin drunk on trash.

ill turn your kid into a puppet
with a color t.v.
for a mind with eyes for buttons
salty broken screens

the umbilical chord
is plugged into the wall
and its drippin wet with surgery
playin a scene
of dead vets workin
on their own bodies
lookin for the coins they swallowed
to pay the fare for the ferry.

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

they are

the ones who
opperate the buses.

it is a heavy civic duty.

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.

The mind is
The Great White Whale
Killing ourselves
Chasing it.

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.

You have to keep
the child inside alive.
In a cage.
Locked up.
Feed it twice a week.
Enough to keep it alive
too weak to escape.
Make it your zombie.
You have to keep
the child inside alive.
Feed it sedatives.
Feed it poison.
Keep it inoculated.
Brainwashed.
It'll never leave you.
Bound in a small box.
Don't let it grow.
Keep it's bones broken and soft.
You have to steal its teeth.
All of em.
When it tries to bight off its tongue,
bleed out,
it will not die.
You have to keep
the child inside alive.
Don't let it leave.
Don't let it see you.
Don't let it see the man or the monster.
Don't scare it.
Keep it calm.
Don't let it see you.
Don't ever touch water to it.
Don't wash it. Ever.
You can't let it know it can be clean.
Teach it the truth-
That the sun is an angry god
who eats precious things like you.
Teach it the truth-
That the nest of insects inside of your brain can only be quieted to sleep by me.
Don't let it grow and touch itself.
It can't know the
functions of its form.
Wear your mask when you attack it.
The monster in its nightmare becomes something
you must mimic.
Then come in
clean-shaven
to save it.
Leave before it learns
what love is.
You must keep it estranged
because it is something
that you covet.
You must be the savior
of the child inside
and you must never let it die.
If you do,
what will become of you?

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.

When you try to get chaos out of perfect order all you get is beauty.

to the baby, and its babies:
  
   your birth,
      and the woman waiting for you;

they are waiting.



everyone, is waiting.

time, is waiting.

the sea, is waiting.

elephants, are waiting.

the cukes in the vat are waiting to be pickled..

the pickles are waiting to be traded for cash.
to become their own weight in gold.

and the money, is waiting to be buried back into the earth, as the earth sits in its own sort of waiting,
   knowing, that

even the end is waiting.

while nothing also waits for anything else besides the end.

theres a deep root i cant quite share
but it becomes tired of everything
including myself
and i love it.

Silicone valley.

These things don't write themselves. Somebody has to build the machine that spits it all out. Relentlessly. Forever. A whole country standing in line to build a story they never have time to read. We're all slaves in this one. The dead leading the dead.

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.

i am spread
over the vastest of expanses.

and the body that i cant quite use
is more moved by my wind
than from anything within.

the egg is cooking in my heart.

they all died
and im crying.