SleEp)?
you,'re are an pale sweeping pliant loosely club
        bashing softness
  upon my cobbled unsplendid
      ink
                    and smashing
     viscously the poppies
          stubborn lungs
                                                          dusted
                                                             imperfectly
                                                               arrogance
                                                          a you lovely supple fire
                                                        the opened closeness
                                                                of cotton treasure
                                                             fluttering
                                                                               existential
                                                                    motes
                                                                                and the you
                                        

smell like razors          cluttering
        silverly
                        the knelling
           harbor
                            of
           my
                       soft     hardness

                and
you are a majesty .wholly





                                                          unalone

; and it leaps
   over touch and blood
the illustrious crepitus of your oscillating
olive wrinkle
     meagerly i
                               climbed

  into it's hollow
       solid
                   flexing
                                      pink

      asinine heat

                                      i

          cream and chunk
    likely
                    the  steam
   is drunk                                      of ignoble

           *******

                                  *******

       from her
                                                      stifff

       blundering


                         boney

        rib





                       s

i,m electric. its, the pisshard light
crapping ugly vowels off the bulbs
on the stree tonthestreet spitting webs
of iridescent ridiculous tubercular scarlet
folds of loose legs
akimbo receptive culling frilly cotton
nets
about their thighs. their thighs crying
white dark femurs
blasting hot
on my i's. on my eyes. on my
   punch heavy brooding crumble
slashing the serious night air nightmare
night blaring
                        neon daughters
dna
         in little flecks
some cordial bums; laugh ******* nonsense
birds. they're a bottle away. a bottle away
a oblivion. sip sip. drink your soul away
     and rude the clean folks
passing on the asphalt rivers
   veining in the cold hot bright darkness

there was drooping violet
  spate generally on the still noble sky
    by who ridiculous punctuation slammed
      unsleeping winds all about this lean laughing
        hound of plural singulars bounding intaglio rivulets
         slightly rosy chunks of love
              and love  was
                                           punching  gradually
       every lips
                            and lightly whorish
     bruises slapped the pavements
          by the
                         B!r.Ea     k     I,N;g'     surf

Coming outa the fog that was a steady binge I reailzed it had all
changed.
No longer was I the in demand writer but more like a sad cliff note
to a on going trainwreck.

People either stopped by to view the specticle or laugh at the
man who no longer was what they secretly hated.
The drinks but a old vice and my only true friend who held the
promise of my death.

The night befor had been a display of Gonzo like a vetran preformer
I played the role empty to myself yet the joke they did thirst to
know to see that spark and relive vision's of a burning fire.

To have the safe laugh with the old drunkard.
My eyes but a store window to a long since closed business.
I had become a human ghost town a walking monument to
the strange case of what used to be.

There taunts were clear hidden under a mocking yet sweet candy
covered lie.
tormented like a lion in a zoo who's rage if released would
make them run in sheer terror if only they could imagine the violence
that loomed in my thoughts.

But I just continued to extinguish that fire every drink
kept it at a dull smolder.

They wanted the image the walking joke not the truth.
like a burnt out ****** eventhough it killed me i still
craved that feeling of utter acceptance in the reality of it's
true rejection.

The road called to me as it viewed me as a lost love
who had fallen and was notning more than a sad parody
of a once brave yet now bitter soul.

The mystery of that last great journey still did awake me.
The heart is a highway it's road looms on into the horizen.
Hitting deadends and emotional near insane crossroads.

And I no longer was numb enough to take it's punishment.
Th scrapbook of my mind was full yet pages were added by the drop.

The final chapter waited.
But befor it's end it must be lived.

Alone I knew this was the last stand and only when you walk through hell do you understand how it feels to rest in silence.
A circus preformer left with only posters and trinkets to recall
thoose failed glory's.

One last battle still did wait.
All i needed was one last spark.
So began my trip from paridise to hell.

The words my guide the whiskey my fuel.
Insanity my old friend in battle.
And this semi thing called reality my willing rival.

As writers we thirst for perfection and all its beautiful destruction.
As for gonzo it was all down hill from here kids.

When I close my eyes to sleep at night,
I see you lying there,
alone in bed so far away,
it just doesn't seem quite fair.

If wishes worked like magic,
that's not what I would see.
For you would be much closer,
lying next to me.

Your head would be upon my chest,
your leg draped over mine.
Softly, you'd be sleeping,
and life would be just fine.

And as I drifted off to sleep,
your arms would hold me tight.
Together we would dream the truth,
of this and every night.

That this is how we're meant to be,
together, intertwined.
Just look at all the paths we took,
each other just to find.

I shall bound triumphantly into a time to come
Drink of waters no other has ever tasted
A serene and silent seer
I shall then become
Into the aching hearts of men
With visions still unread

Brilliant stars will bloom, which once were faded
Sleeping souls retracing steps
Of a time before their skies were jaded
By those errors made in judgment
Stealing lives
Into a dark misstep

I shall then lie outside myself
And watch to see
Those aching hearts drinking waters I have tasted
A serene and silent seer I will remain and be
While sleeping souls regain the light
They thought once wasted