ive made poetry.
im happy.

some things are
out of my reach
right now
but when my horns
are done growing
ill be taller.

the moment before
it became enlightened
i performed a mercy ****
on a burning ant.

i  thought it was saintly
but then i realized
i was a monster.

when i become a burning ant
ill know the true nature
of my murderer.

i wouldnt be able to handle that.
i would cry.
i would want to **** myself.
i wouldnt be able to care for anyone.
and id leave you then join you.

crystal information
will cast light
out of the head.

the shadow will be
no more
of the puddle on the floor.

we will spread
beyond our bodies,
beyond what is dead.

life is programming code
and all the good things that
come out of it
are a typo.

With endless love, we
left you sleeping.
Now  we 're  sleeping
with you.


  Don't wake up.

                                   X

i dont know how to tell you this, .....but there is a living sloth
inside of your stomache...
..oh, dont worry. The sloth is in PERFECT HEALTH : ) Its going to be juuust fine. What we're going to do is we're going to cut you open, after you die ofcourse,
and extract the cute little fella from your stomache wound. Im thinking about giving it to my daughter who lives in california with her alcoholic lawer **** mother so she remembers me before i move to costa rica with my 19 year old philipino model wife and totally detatch myself from her life and get the philipino pregnant and start a new family which i will also one day forget. Ahhh yes, retirment will be fun..in those years, i think i might start to finally explore my unhealthy interest in little boys and becoming a woman. Transgender, that is. Mmmmmmmm........costa rica.....

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.

just remember:

i feel more like i do now
than i did when i got here.

they jump up like dogs
to greet you
and they talk
and want attention
but i stay quiet
because i know the truth.
i know who you are:
youre an extention of something beautiful but you are ugly.

too depressed to *******
I need someone to talk to.
life runs its course
and I of course
I never got a walk-through.

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.

no two people kiss the same.
they only kiss
the way they kiss
when they kiss each other.

MAD AS A HATTAH!!!!
GOT THE MERCURY IN ME FINGERTIPS I DID!!!
WIGGLED ITS WAY
INTO MY BLOOD
AND WORKED ITS WAY
UP INTO MY BRAIN!!
TOOK A TRIP AND GOT LOST
IN THE COUNTRY IT DID
AND LIVES IN A BROKEN DOWN
TRUCK ON WOODEN BLOCKS!!

ill be there
when the sun stops workin..
ill feel every inch of it
ill be soakin up the hurtin..
but ill sit there until I die..
one of our gleams will die
in the light of the others eye..
who's here and why..
does anyone know anyone?

sometimes the only
music dancing culture food women
is the spanish.

feed the hungry to each other
small groups will conspire
give them knives and fires
sharpen bones which they acquire
strip the shelter from the land
theyre stacking bodies higher

watch them wage their war

peel the skin off of their fruits
and cook the meal required
for food is strength
and strength will win
and winners are admired
tell your clan youll split the reap
dont tell them youre a liar
of their bones: an abattoir
you sleep in when youre tired
sleep with one eye open
and watch them wage their war

In his car.
Sitting on the tracks for
a train to come **** him.
Wearing a coat and a rimmed hat.
Eating a living infant.

A sheep was set
between the train and the car
to muffle the impact;
that's what they did
back in those days.

pre-apocolyptic.

my stomache is fat
and my organs dont work right.
im hooked up to a machine
and my feet are different sizes.
but at least my mind is happy.

this place is a colony of sorts.
but we've abandoned ourselves
and abandoned eachother
and our mission is unclear.
soon we will abandon ship
and swim into an ocean of sorts.
a bespeckled sea of fear and love
and loneliness.
our journey is a hub of discovery.
a place where we must settle.
the gravity of being pulls us close.
and when we touch we will become.

she spreads her legs open
and i climb inside
and die.

i love caterpillars

all of the extra words are lies.
emotions are simple and true.
poetry is only free.
it is a glimpse
of the heart
to the heart.

my greatest insight for as long as i can remember is that ive had none.

This world is more yours than it is mine
You're a military man and I'm a skeptic without a dime
But the universe still opens up and explains to me the divine.
I see the bumps on its tongue
It's the water of the pool shivering casting the light of wine.
The air is so drunk and we breathe it so fine.
And on the flesh of each other we dine.
Sharing each other's wisdom and time
What's yours is mine.

the diseased corpse that i am

I can feel em like moths..
Floating down onto my face..
To kiss me.
And fly away.
And leave their dust behind to die.
And we both had names and we both had faces and we both had mouths and for a moment in our lives we had each other.
Memory is fruit but life is the shedding of leaves.

an electric flood courses
through each of my organs
until im a floating static specter
penetrating each of your pores.

there is no straight line
to this point.

we cancer vive

how you look at the lines
and they disappear.

look to the side of a star

to see it.

make love
out of loneliness.

emotions are purgatory
to purge them
is peace

people are dumb.
people made werds.
werds are smart..but:
these are werds about people..so,
these werds are dumb.

when you realize
that this whole time
your hands have been spiders
crawling out of
the mouths of snakes
then you've got it.

for some
its the great escape.
for some
its the
great illusion.
for others
its for others.

the criminals
the crazies;

we love the hardest.

scientists have a team
transporting a
recently discovered
mummy.
inside her breast
is a love letter
i wrote her
6,000 years ago.
they can keep that
when they find it.
they can have
her whole shell.
but they'll
have to
**** me
to study
her living cells.
they're mine.
ill upload her soul
into her new body
when its finished growing.
our touch,
seperated by
a celestial heartbeat,
will conquer them all,
even us.

the humming in my chest,
the doctor said,
is rock-n-roll guitar.

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

hey. i live in ft.lauderdale. im not gonna waste a bunch of time and space on this, but im lonely. ive never had an encounter with another man before but ive always wished i had the ***** to. if YOU have the ***** then come cure me of my loneliness. please. im very good looking, 25 yo, 6 ft, 130 Lbs. and im hard right now. ; - )

if i were to cut off
a piece of my flesh
or a finger
or even an ear
it would crawl
the way a slug crawls
to your house
slither into your bed
and sleep in your mouth.

i sit here and try to be still.
within minutes im a skeleton
in a wooden chair.

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?"

the city needs to
work on the sewers.
people live there
and they deserve
the best.

...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...       ...

There is no arrogance in my obsession for genius,
it is an absolute necessity for my survival.

there is a childrens song
in my taxidermied heart.
it plays every time
someone opens the door
to purchase me.
they count their money
and consider their options
as they browse the room
and i convince them
the product is defective
or unsafe for small children
or obsolete or spilling fluids
and containing harsh chemicals
and they thank me while looking confused as they leave,
opening the door,
while my heart plays
a dying carousel tune
for one of the last times.
waiting
for my usefulness
to wear out
as i become
a relic
sought after by
the possessive
the obsessive
the deranged
the lonely.
a collectible
with no value
serving my purpose
to a collector
who understands
value.

you can teach a man to fish
but you can not teach a fish to man.

grow my hair
and make a vudu doll
of myself

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