the last gift i recieved was a vacuum
two christmas' ago.
and i got that person nothing.
if i ever own a home
it will be clean
but it will be empty.
and i will be dead on christmas.

life is a play,
   and when the curtain falls

well,
      youre dead.

dont feel bad for the old man.
not because hes closer to
leaving this place,
he may not be after all.

after all,
the old man
may win
the fight
between
you and
his life.

i fell through the
aesthetically pleasing crack
in the face of beauty
and everything lost its hue.
which means nothing.
its eyes were poorly painted blue
and i used them to see you.
now i notice
everything is a shape
taking up space.

the fetal stages
of agedness.

everyone lost power
we all died

all those Bad people? those ******* who arent even civil enough to take a life?
those monsters:
who capture the lives and take from them. take eyes and fat and wombs. wutever they take. they kno. from things that kno its very very bad. well they dont really understand, i Guess.
those dont feel wut theyre doing anyway. and they make profit to keep their homes clean and large but i doubt any strength is involved with their families living in such nice homes. putting on daddys makeup from the stupid monkeys and whales and complaining in adolescence but full of makeup probably later on. because we have to forgive. and the stupid monkeys have no idea. wut the whale is feeling. because neither of them kno, but they feel it.
and wen things are bad...those PEOPLE, those people who do the worst and are covered by law while the dying worlds got their baks, wen things get reeeeal bad...for those really Fukd up pieces of **** in sharkskin suits? wen that happens like that to them, they **** their sharkskin pants. because they all believe in god against their better judgment wen their in a tigers mouth or sinking from a ship or being ***** and their face smashed by animal hands. so i guess they feel wuts populating their lives and then their souls too. i guess i havent really told you wut this makes me feel. and i dont kno wut to think. no one does. and i havent done anything.

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.

junkies live in the garden below
a saint dies in the apartment above
theyed wish eachother love
if their paths had ever crossed
they find themselves dying lost

pre-apocolypse is the world around
and everyones doing their part.

.

my soul is starving.
i must feed it everything
and do nothing.

pianos will speak to me forever
from their big
beautiful
gaping
mouths.

they will always
fill the room
with my
emotion.

i know when they cry.

the devil lives between us
but we marry.
& the devil lives inside of us
so we make wars with swords
to open our bodies
to let out the devil
to **** what keeps us
from loving each other.

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.

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.

facsimile

i need a new place to live.
my body is a corrupt state.
the townships
are promised fortune
by big business moving in.
supplying me with a job
so i can buy what they sell.

if you have a glow of light on youre face
you're a witch.
an ignis fatum is a spirit
trying to share your body.
a kahuna speaks to other worlds
and can show you
in a bowl of liquid.
if you have the technology
and you have the good intentions
it can be fixed.
but all the progress is dogma.

im still young enough
to build my own casket.
still smart enough
to build a test
that only i can fail.
still enough
to watch myself
pass by.

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

they feed us to eachother

paint lines in the road
to crash into eachother.
off the cliff.
down the mountain.
into the lake.
to sleep.

fish swim.
their body floats.
their soul rises.

but fish swim.

and a human catches one,
but catches nothing.

what we want
swims
floats
rises
dies
within.

i gave birth to a mother snake
who gave birth to a man like me.

it was a battle.

an infinite distance winked at me
and i skull-****** it instantly.

if i had liquid skin
id be drowning in
what im already drowning in.

fire lit smoke clouds
rain water.

"is this helping?"

"helping what?"

"your celibacy."

".....yes."

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

life is a painting
of something beautiful
explaining us to ourselves
on a wall
in a building burning down

and we stand there
mesmerised.

there. a percussive mind.
a dream of a bird
fighting its reflection
in the water.
until one finally drowns
and one learns to fly.

im left wanting to tear
off the rotting suit that i wear.
leave it lying tucked into
the space between
the door and floor.
keep the room quiet and cold
to give me room to think.
allow the music
to leak out of its seams
so i can have something to listen to
and something to drink.

i won't drink from the faucet but
ill pour it out and pay my bill.
they put microchips in the water.
to attach to my dna.
to get me to do terrible things.
homicides.
and to forget.
i leave the TV on loud dumb shows
so they don't know what I study.
they're listening through the speakers.
my socks are soaked in chemicals
to absorb into my feet
to make me immune
but ill be dead by then.
im writing it all down and saving it in
encrypted files.
the password is in the truth.

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

lay down the body
hide in the mind
lost in the heart

if notes deteriorate
inside you're stomache

its like a beautiful fountain
all dried up.

i wake up from my dreams
and my fingers
are wet with you.

they keep trying to break in
but thats not where i keep it.
i keep it down below.
and it slowly leaks and leaves me
and it gives itself away for free.

..they try to steal my love.

the table is an animal.

ready to attack.

i treat it well.

stripes are terrifying

tell a tale

im sad

ive had not what its had
but have
what it has not now.

i wanna shoot myself
every day i work
for nine dollars an hour.

it makes me wanna
shoot myself
every day
for free.

as a child
i lay awake
with zombies floating
outside of my window.

too terrified
to sleep.

not long ago
i was a zombie
breaking the glass
of my childhood window
seeing the boy in bed
as i peeled off my skin
and crawled through
to eat him.

their spaceships
are beautiful.

they come by
and cut off
all your friends heads.

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.

i see a heart
and i think of you
but what should i do?
because i see you
and my brain farts
but it comes from
the heart.

the capstone
of the pyramid
of myself

the enlightenment
at the end
of my virtue

the love
at the gate

“we fight as a team which i leave."

my parents reared me
like an animal.

they didnt realize i was a cannibal.

so i ate them,

and thats why im
a gentleman.