leave the paintings
leave the photos
leave the vinyl albums
...that was a pointless hobby...
leave the love
leave the tooth
leave the journals
...you can read whatever you'd like now...
leave the cats
leave the ***
leave the blood stains
...on the bathroom floor...
grab only the good books
whatevers left of the gin
grab the coffee maker
put your shoes on
i'm ******' outta here

I said "****! That's probably why I haven't been laid in almost two years!"
And the guys at work laughed
Then the small long dark haired girl
Popped her smooth brown face from
Around a corner
She heard everything
"Wha? You'll find  somebody, I believe everybody has a soul mate out there. And your...a smart guy, you'll find somebody."
I thought about how much optimistic
Or
Just plain ignorant people
Really seemed to disturb me
Then she said
"My best friend use to be with all these guys in high school and I could never find a guy and I was jealous then when I found my fiance she got dumped and was alone for six years and we were like oh my god thats so weird and it's funny me and her didn't like each other when we first met but then one time...."
And I stood there nodding
And terrified
And I remembered why I hadn't
Tried all that hard
To find a women
These last 2 years

A friend of a friend
50 lbs my senior.
We danced
We danced.
I apologized all night
"****, I'm sorry,  I haven't danced since the 8th grade..."
"It's OK, I can't dance either."
I pulled her close
Drunk on 10
She really had
A beautiful face.
I felt her ******* against my chest
I got an ******* on the dance floor.
She was looking down.
I wondered if she was looking at
That grotesque
*****...
We interlocked our fingers.
It felt so good.
Her hands so soft.
We danced.
I could breath again.
*******
Sartre.
You brilliant *******.
I was
Alive
Again...

Lucid dreaming swans
Perched high upon
Delicate snow branches
Wide eyed, watching
Me
I spit at the roots of your sanctuary
I stand naked as the black bull
Paces
The bullring encircled by flame
He is confused and I
Am lost
He kicks the dirt
And I throw silk purple
Flowing thunderstorm rain
Mockery into his face
I twist in a beautiful
Smirk at death veronica
And I feel the breeze of ****** horn
On my neck
Yes, I am scared
Neither of us will make it out
Alive
He tastes my cape
And I choke on his dust
He stands confused
And I am lost
Why must we keep
Charging and twirling
All of our lives?
We sweat encircled in
Hell flame
Thinking about why it's all
So unfair
Then prepare for the next
Brutal goring or
Brilliant silk tornado
While the swans slumber delicately
Upon the canopies
Of brittle trees
I'd rather be here
Than up there

I said "I love you too."
And she smiled and stared through
Dirt clutching eyes
Silence. Like a flesh eating black bear
Slipped in between us in the
Crumb filled sheets
"What are you thinking about?"
She asks
Why did they always ask that?
They want you to say something
Dramatic. Meaningful.
I want to leave you and sever the heads of 1000 roses from their stems
Call the moon a *******
And finally, jump from a massive
Steel bridge
"I dont know..." i say
"Are you ok babe?"
"...yea..." i say
"Whats wrong tell meeee....
What are you thinking about?"
Oh...****... And how could i say that
I was daydreaming about a
Full grown black fighting bull
Escaped from the bull rings of spain
Bloodied and running
As fast as it could in moonlight
Through wild spanish flowers
Through the rain
Through deep gulps of freedom fresh
Mist
Crying laughing dying
Only wanting to keel over and die
Tongue out and alone
In a patch of bright
Non exotic flowers....

How can I explain?...
You open the 5th beer
And you are sitting alone
You let out a belch that
Tastes like the
Salty 4 AM tide mist water
You look around
And the scenery has become
Meaningless
You start to feel what Sartre
Vomited
On the page
Your surroundings become
As out of control
As they seem
When you are sober
You were right! It's real!
Your insanity starts to seem
Intellectual
You throw your left leg over
Your right knee
Turn up the Ades
Another beer cracks and hisses
Bullwhips, cobras.
When the faces arrive they
Are false, cardboard
You think about that phrase you
Think of all day
When you watch the people
"God, what HORRIFIED lives we live"
Except now you are smiling
You start to think about
How one of these days the sanity
Will drown completely
Choking on that bubbling spit
Foaming, soiled
Green tide
Yeah, that's alright
With me.

I used to think about her
When I masturbated in
The shower.
She was my girlfriends
Best friend
She was petite
With the fattest ***
I've ever seen
On a 100 lb. white girl.
And when my girlfriend left me
The white girl called a few days later.
She came over one night
And I undressed her
And she had these long cutting scars
Climbing up horizontally
On the side of each thigh.
And as I looked down at my naked self,
There were cigarette burns and a stab wound, and the time I made a cross on my knee with a broken ashtray.
It was beautiful.
Two scarred humans
Lying in bed
Making love.
That night she licked the disgusting stab wound
On my shoulder
Then asked
"Can I cut you, baby?"
"Sure" I said.
I am always fascinated by the numbness
Alcohol produces.
And she hacked away at me.
Then she carved a heart into my arm
And I carved one into her thigh
But hers didn't scab up as well as mine.
Then we fell asleep drunk
In each others arms.
Blood and love and *** and loneliness
All mixed up in the bed.
I used to ******* to her in the shower
Before all of that happened.
Maybe that's what made it so hard
When she left me.

Ok! Ok!
It ripped my vicious alcoholic talons off easily.
Like I was some cheap
$9.99 for a 12 piece
Dispensible chicken.
The doctor said "Your rotting
From the inside out.
Look, look at your face,
Your rotting."
The body has given up.
The mind has wandered somewhere
Wild.
"No more coffee or alcohol, you have to eat better. think about your kidneys."
"I'll try."
I sit around
Tired and bored
Like everybody else
Last week I was a howling inferno
Now I sleep for ten hours every day.
Uninterested in poetry,books,music.
Oh life,
You selfish *****!
Always finding something to take
Even when i think there is
Nothing left.
Another come down.
Another dreadful
Peacefulness.
I knew it all along!
Sanity is so ******
Dull.

**** caked eyes scraped open
New, tasting fresh breeze of
Some amateur mahayana meditation
I scan the room
There is a painting of a moon with
A clock's face
And a wounded bull of spain
Running through a prairie
Running home
The oil paint bursts in brilliant
Cold blues
I think,
What is this?
What is this?
Then there is a cockroach running
Wildly
Across the linoleum
I smash its head like
Bluebird egg
It's legs are kicking and it
Rotates in a small circle
Around a mess of eyes, mouth,
Antennae
The suffering in this world is
Tremendous
I finish it off
And feel instant disgust
In myself
And all of you.

I never gave a **** about literature.
Until the women were gone
And the loneliness replaced them
And the words kept the loneliness
From becoming
Unbearable.
One Ex-girlfriend
Used to read often
And write poetry
She tried too hard.
There was a lot of big words
Mashed together
And the ideas were always
Too grand.
She wrote a dumb downed poem
For me one time
And pasted it
On the back of a polaroid picture
I loved that picture
Me on a ***** couch
With my beautiful long black hair
18 Surrounded by 4 beautiful 17 year old girls.
I'm only 24 now
But I feel more like 47.
The poem began
"Cigarette smoke in this cold weather
The shiny studs on your black leather"
Something about tantalizing...
She always used tantalizing....
I always think about
Being 47
And laughing about
Nights
Like this.

The women were only a
Distraction
From my own
Growling insanities
And the begging loneliness
I felt it all
As they lied beside me
Microwaved ham
In a hard twin bed
I knew i could never face it
Face it alone
Christ!
What i'd give
To have any one of them
Here now
Death stands behind me
Combing yellow bone fingers
Through my thick luxurious
Mexican hair
And the beer
Takes care of the rest

Fleeing smoke;risen
Proud and delicate
Ghosts of wild horses
What IS this?
Eyes bathe
Darkness;bliss
My soul folds into itself
Gentle now
A metropolis collapsing into
Sinkhole
Gentle now; now
What is THIS?
Bluepurples burst growglow
Then vanish
More appear
Matter cannot be created or
Destroyed?
Yeah?
That hugs me like grizzly hibernation
I am ancient
Thats it!
I have been here for centuries
I remember
Protozoa ****** in prehistoric lake
The boredom of burning stars
Massive galaxies collapsing like
Waves
Yes. I am satisfied with that.
WHAT IS THIS?
Bodies burnt back to ash
An "i guess i'll just have..."
Kind of dinner for worms
To be consumed and created anew
Againagainagain again
Yes!
No?
No...
I cant figure it out...
My heart beats
Detonation countdown
After all this
My own heart will be the one
To **** me
What is this?
I don't have much time.

I forgot how it felt
To itch in a human skin.
I forgot that the hangovers are there
To tame me.
You see ,
A few weeks ago I went for
The works.
Beers, double gin and tonics, whiskey, some ****** ***.
I blacked out, of course...
But the REAL problem was that
I couldn't breath the next morning.
So I decided to go dry for a month.
I forgot that I think too much.
I forgot that there is some
Beautiful bright and rotten energy Exploding
Inside of my small body.
I want to wage war with the moon.
I want to spit at the sun.
I want to pull your hair back
And love you like broken glass.
I want push my face through cactus
Spines
To **** at the juice.
All this
Beautiful bright and rotten energy
Inside of me is burning.
But I still can't face
Those wolves on my doorstep.

i really thought it was love
"i love you...i just can't let people treat me this way baby..."
...i thought i had courage...
she howled
"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE MEEEE, I'LL **** MYSELF,I SWEAR,PLEEEEASE!"
we murdered love
"i love you, but..**** baby...you treat me like ****...i have to leave"
i had nowhere to go
i just wanted someone to think i had courage
we hit the gin hard that day, that was our drink
she liked it with ice,lime,tonic
i took it hot and straight
man...she blocked the doorway again
she grabbed the kitchen knife
i really thought it was love
she was on the wall,carpet,all over the door
now we really could see our love
it stained
a meaty hunk of it hung from her arm
love looks like
jelly

A real big mean *******
6'5 280 lbs
With a 6th grade education
He had a tattoo on
On the back of his shaved head
A big stab wound on his gut
He was shot 5 times
In the ***
He was brilliant
At credit card fraud
Only felt pride
For his gang
In and out of prison his whole life
Said life was more comfortable inside
I watched him put his feet on the kitchen counter
Hands on the floor
And do 100 pushups
I watched him with dying red eyes
High on speed
Peeking through filthy blinds
Every 3 minutes
While explaining how the
Man in the telephone company truck
Was really the CIA
He was arrested for ******
But the courts let him go
Due to a lack of evidence
He had 12 kids with 5 women
He was willing to fight anybody
Even women
Especially women
Made me drink a beer and
Showed me **** when I was 8
Showed me how to steal a car
With a flathead screwdriver
I hated big outlaw
He was a real mean *******
It's a real shame
That I have to see his face
Every time
I look at a mirror

I parked the car in downtown
San Pedro
I stood in the rain outside the
Cabrillo Hotel
The people looked awful
Battered
There was a homeless punk woman
With face tattoos
Staring at me from her dry corner
A 50 year old woman spilled from the bar to the street
She reeked of wine
"*******! Some ******* dropped me off here and left! Can you give me a ride? That *******! My husband's a doctor ******! My son goes to UCLA! Can you give me a ride?"
She reeked of ****
A small ***** old man sat on the bar
Steps
Smoking Buglers
He shook his head at me
"Don't do it son, she's outta her mind."
The landlord finally came down
Showed me Rm. 101
It was a 30x25 space
With a mini fridge, closet, the mirror
A sink to **** in
The landlord said "You can see the downtown from the window."
I looked out
A trash can in an alley.
I just kept thinking about
Fante's Ask the Dust,Dreams from Bunker Hill
Bukowski's poem How to be a Great Writer
I hoped they were right
"I'll take it."
The first night the couple next door
Had a fist fight
And a fat cockroach crawled up my back in bed
The drunks ran up and down the halls at 3AM
I was not happy
But Rm 101 toughened me up
Very well
It became my oasis in hell
I have everything I need
Coffee maker, air mattress, radio
Beers in the fridge, big stack of books, most importantly
A place to get away
From the madness of the people
And when I finally get out of this
*******
I think I might miss it

It started earlier that day
With Dostoevsky
It was brilliant but it really
Drug the soul through the mud
Spit on it
Cried tears of the world
Over my lifeless body
I slept for 12 hours that night
Sober
I hit the leaking air mattress at 6pm
And didn't get up til 7 something
I had the most beautiful nightmare during that time
I was with an old girlfriend
The one that left me alone
For a year now
"What do you want for dinner?"
She asked with a remorseful
Obligatory smile
Soaked in sadness
"Uhh....macaroni and cheese?" I said
I never knew what to eat
I never cared about food
"Really...that's what you want?"
I ignored her putdown and said
"Ya know. I'm really happy your back
Honey. This really beats the year of
Microwaved dinners I went through"
She smiled. It was filled with guilt
I never want to see her or that smile
Again, dreams...
                                  2
We sat in a warm room
Watching a storm
through the window
There was thunder and rain
Cracking in the darkness
Behind an old church
Dramatically lighting the sky
Like fireworks
"I've never seen anything like it!" I screamed, I was excited. I was happy
She frowned and said nothing
I never touched her in the dream...
                                   3
I woke up alone
Rolled over and looked at the clock
1:30 am
I rolled again
Sighed heavily
And looked down upon my
Naked body
I thought about the dream
The madness of this last year
I thought "Nobody should have to
Live like this"
Alone...crazy and alone
But I had
And others had too
and the ones
That felt it
But didn't soak the drywall
With their blood
Were the strongest
I missed the feeling
Of acceptance, of love
But not the coldness
It brings with it
To love beautiful women like you
Is just suicide...

The morning after sunrise
Over a decimated Nagasaki
The smooth smiling
Bulletin board *****
Immortalized over
**** blood streets
You were so beautiful but your
Love was dead
You walked smooth rhythm like
Hot bullets through butter flesh
Your voice soft sweet like
House cat ripping dove's neck
And in Waterloo I watched you
Watch your father watch
Past pain fill cold beer mugs
Feel numb nothingness
Attempting to drink it all away
And you knew ALL included you
Pain passed down
Misery inherited
And when you slapped me in the snow
I knew the blow was really from
Him to you
And his wife dying of cancer
In the room across from ours
You shut our door
Poured the Carlo Rossi into
Plastic cups
Then talked about your cats
Then we ****** on the floor
But I couldn't stop thinking about
The suffering across the hall
The suffering in your grinding hips
And when I stared into your
Drunk dead eyes
I saw pain inescapable
I saw future smashed by past
I saw desperation for control through
Expendable men
I saw him
I had to look away
Outside of the window
Snow falling heavy
Bright cold delicate
It burned my eyes
You were so beautiful
But your love was dead

bloated from the alcohol
spinning
lips and lungs cracked
by cigarette smoke
lying, watching
death crawl across the tile
picking up speed
all you can do is wait
the poem is just
words
and yours
are all bad
but then
the sun rises
and you can see
its' minute and second
hands
its your time
the poem is just words
and yours are all bad
but they're wept
from your soul
you can hardly stand
but you do
because
you could never stand
for defeat

Hanging horizontal
Eyes rolling wildly in darkness
The AM radio whispers
A Texas mother is arrested after leaving her 3 children home unattended, police say they arrived and found her 18 month old burned to death in an oven"
I think about my *** of coffee
Black
I roll out of bed
Walk to the sink
The mirror disappoints again
I think of Sartre
Advising to stay away from the sight
Of yourself
Then I think of
Lepers, burn victims,
old amatuer boxers
And I feel a little better
I sit down and have coffee
With some of the greatest humans
Humanity has ever produced
Then I think about the ones
I will encounter today
Not so great...
"And there it is...the nausea."
-Sartre
I walk into the bathroom
And the cold burns
I step into the shower
And the water burns
I brush my hair in the mirror
And yes
That burns too
I step into my work uniform
And brown boots
I ask myself
"Are you ready to go?"
Keys, phone, wallet...
"I guess so..."
I walk past the mirror
then stop
I think
This is all so
Silly
The whole thing is so *******
Silly
I smirk at myself
I think
"I have had woman, I have fought men, I could never turn back...and all that lead me to where? This very moment"
-Sartre
I close the door
Then step out into
The cold dark
Morning

Yeah.
I often drink 10 beers
Alone
On nights like these.
And shadow box
Morales style
In the corner of my room
In the moonlight
Singing Lorca's screaming poems
And feeling Sartre's
Nothingness
I walk the streets of
Los Angeles
Like its ******* Ask The Dust 1939
Ignoring droids and hover boards
Flying right past me
All the good writers are dead.
And all the words are just ******* now.
Especially
Mine.

Futures shed their venomous skins
Forever life is fanged
Some wild Aztec high on bitter flowers
Thought everybody deserved
Another chance.
Or maybe he was a criminal
A murderer, a thief, a ******.
Trying to give himself a
New identity.
Who is this new man I will be?
I am trying to smile.
To forget the shrieking jackal
That lives in all of your hearts.
I will
Eat less
Drink less beer.
I am trying to smile.
To notice the trees bathing in the
Sunlight
To forget about the sun
Irritating my skin.
Look at this smile.
Just as good as any other...
But when I wear it
I can't write anything
Worthwhile.

I never want to
Tie anybody down
Again.
Calling her to make sure
She's not up to no good
Every 3 hours or so.
She'd say
"Hey baby...I'm just sitting around at home, bored..."
why did I always imagine a
Naked man playing with himself
In bed next to her when she'd say this?
We forced ourselves to dreadfully dull
Saturday nights
Staring at a television
Both really only making sure
The other
Was not out enjoying themselves.
Is this love?
It seems more like
Probation,or
A cancer,or
A forced drowning.
What were we trying to hold onto
Anyways?
We didn't want a family or a future.
I was just protecting my ***
And she was just hiding from
Her loneliness.
Is it possible to subtract
This grotesque jealousy from love?
Or are the two closely related?
Like cheap plastic bottle whiskey
And a heart pounding
Hangover?
Maybe the swingers have the
Right idea.
Yes, the shunned ***** of society.
Though I have heard people say
That THAT is not love.
I want a new kind of love.
One without bitterness
Without the falseness
Without the illusion of forever.
And until the next one comes around
I will practice this new love
By purchasing a small brightly colored bird and a cage.
I will hang the cage on the balcony
With the little trap door open.
Then I will lie down to sleep
And try to think only
Of me.

I clock in at 6 AM
the store is empty
the people are empty
The clock is frozen
My heart is frozen.
Life is precious...
The manager creeps around
Corners
Pretending to sweep
But he is really
Listening and watching.
He's doing his best to keep
Everybody from ******* each other.
Life is beautiful...
I walk into the
White fluorescent
Bathroom again and again
Not to ****
Just to stare into the mirror
To remember when the face was less
Battered
And life was
About the same.
Life is a blessing...
I look over at the toilet.
There is a long dark black
***** hair on the seat.
It is curled and standing like
A hissing cobra.
Staring right at me.
I laugh and smile.
Cherish every minute...

It was some part of me.
The mind
Or the soul
Or the madness
Or the love
Or the the hate
Or the loneliness.
It was the part of me
That burned so HOT
All the time
Until it finally seemed
To burn out.
Black ash swept across the tile
Into a messy pile in the corner.
That part of me just sat there
For months
Incinerated by the world
By its people
By its misfortunes.
Then the wind kicked the ash up
And the curtains caught fire
And the wall paint blistered
And the whole *******
Building burned down.
They tried to douse my fire
But it spread wildly.
The trees
The city
The ocean started to burn.
The sun began to weep.
The inferno could not
Be stopped.
It was
My time
Again.

My middle school history teacher
Made me stay after school one day
"Look, your essay is alright, but I know you ******* it. Your a good writer, so your gonna stay and rewrite the whole thing."
I didn't care about school or writing
But I thought, ****, maybe I'm good
At this
Then I got into high school
And the entire freshman class
Had to enter an essay contest
"How the Civil Rights movement still influences us today"
I remember the teacher was a
Real stuck up *****
I wasn't interested in her class
I hardly showed up
And she wasn't interested in me
But I showed up for the announcement of the winner
All the kids were excited
"And the winner is...Raymond Suarez" she read it like a
guilty verdict
"Who's that?" A pale blond asked
"Him" the teacher pointed at me
The excitement in the room hit the pavement hard
I wasn't smiling
but I was
"There will be a banquet with the other state winners to see if you won the state finals. I'll give you the information in a few days"
"OK"
She never did...
Then I ran into that middle school history teacher again
We exchanged phone numbers and he called me that night
"Ray...I gotta tell you something... I'm gay"
"ok..."
Then he called me a few nights later
I was drunk and he wanted me to come over alone
"Nah, I'm gonna stay drinkin with Andy"
"Come on, just come over, I got beer and food, I'll pay for the taxi to drop Andy off and bring you here, what are ya, chickenshit? Your ****** chickenshit man" he said in his sloppy Texan drawl
"Nah"
I opened another beer
And wondered if he ever really thought my writing
Was any good
Then I guzzled that cold crisp beer
Down
And that took care of that thought
And all the rest

Fresh rain and the
Dead leaves rotting in the gutter
All the springs the earth has seen
We're wasted by the bitter cold
You were just a passing breeze on a
90 degree evening
Or a fever in December.
You cold bitter *****
I am just like you now
So why can't we make this
Work?

The mice are howling
They are empty inside
Stagnant rivers
Dead oceans
My leaves are brittle
Incinerating instantly
May they burn inside
Forever.

It was 6 Decembers ago
I was just a kid
And she was 2 years younger
Her mother drove us both
To the clinic
There were middle aged women
Waiting at the door
And they were mad
At me
At her
At her mother.
We pushed past
Walked to the counter
I swiped my debit card
$365.
Really?
I used my first
Christmas bonus.
Then her mother decided
We would leave her there
Have breakfast with one of
her friends
Then come back
When she was
Done.
I had sausage, eggs, hash browns
Toast, and my first
Black coffee.
Her mother and the friend
Spoke in Spanish
I didn't know
What the hell they were saying
But knew they were talking
About us.
We finished
And drove back to the clinic.
She asked "Well...you learned your lesson
Mijo?"
I was busy, trying to figure out
What the hell
I was now.
"Yes..."
We arrived and picked her up.
Only it wasn't her.
It was something mutilated
It was something murdered.
We got back to her
Bed
And she pulled the covers
Over her head.
I wanted to ask
"...What happened in there...?"
But I cried instead
And kissed her all over her
Wet face.
She was death. Breathing...
A few months ago
I got wasted and brought it all up
Again.
Some girl at the party said
She had done it too.
"What the hell happens in there?"
I screamed
She explained
I was too drunk to listen.
Ya know,
I read Hemingway's
Hills Like White Elephants
And the "operation"
Totally flew over
My head.
What the hell happened in there?
Something.
Necessary.

50 tons of
Steel locomotive
Came crashing from the sky
Screaming through hideous
Dark purples
On the knife tip of
A lightning bolt
It stopped me dead in my tracks
The cold steel chilled my toes
I thought "huh...that's so strange."
Then i walked around the wreckage
Headed south
On my way
To see you.

Call it
Instinct
Animal instinct
I need
Something from you
Then you can have
Whatever's left of me
Then rip my head off
Then try to keep it down
It was always burning
Anyways

Waking up
With a half swollen face
Last nights beers rattle
Across the tile
One is opened and full
.Who knows.
The only thing in the freezer
Is a bottle of southern comfort
I lay back down and press it
Against my face
Read some poems i wrote last night
For the first time
The sun peeks through
Black curtains
And I know
That sun is not mine
The day is not mine
But I am not bitter
You can have it.
Besides
There is still a few beers in the fridge
A box of cereal and a pill for sleep
The radio still works
And I am in the middle of
Lorca
Hamsun
McCullers
Anderson
I always start too many at one time.
I shower and look at the hall
Across the street
There are happy Mexicans dancing
They are dressed in nice
church clothes
They can have it.
I hear the Sunday crowd in the
Bar downstairs
They are always cleaner and fancier
Than the normal crowd
There is a live band there today
They can have it.
I walk out to the car to grab a book
And remember it's breaking down
And there are overdue bills to pay
That was the plan for today
No.Tomorrow.
I walk back up the stairs
Make my bed
Shut the curtains all the way
I am not bitter
You should take it
And I hope you do
something
Worthwhile

I swept up the shards
Of brilliant flowers
And picked up a bouquet
Of broken glass,
Stuck my face in deep
Inhaled.
Can you see it?
This misunderstood
Beauty
In grotesque things
Such as this
Inside of me?

"I gotta starve and pay taxes while
THESE people(roaches)live on welfare, mooching off of MY money...lazy..."
She frowned and shook her head.
She was very passionate about
That.
It's a trick.
They want you to feel
Pride
In doing menial tasks.
It has to be
Somebody's fault
That your stuck here.
I smile at the coworkers
With sweat on the forehead
And panic in the eyes.
Afraid of losing
This.
I smile at the welfare collectors.
They figured it out.
Stocking store shelves
Or
Sitting at home
There's no pride in
Either.
I've tried both.
It's all
Hell.
Everybody
Is too ******
Bitter.
They see the hands of lazy thieves
Where I see
The soft pink hands of laughing
Carnivores.
Oh well...
If you don't want to
Feed them
Just
Become one of them.
It's a
Trick.
I said
"Yeah, well...you gotta eat
Somehow."

The wind picked up
blowin' like a
*******
pulling up
dirt, soot, debris
waste
from behind, now, and all to come
i woke up slow
it was caked all over my chest
it formed a small mountain
it was hard to sit up
and it keeps getting
heavier

filthy brick
sitting in my rented room
drinking southern comfort
it's been a long time
I'll definitely be ******* in the sink
tonight
I hear the women outside
women,women,woman
clapping hooves on cement
stilletos of the apocalypse
smash my eyes and
break my teeth
tick,tick,tick.tick
tick,tick, tick.tick
give me the agony
it's in your skin
woman

they say she is something
like an apple tree
I guess its her form...
I stood beneath the branches
the leaves
it was comfortable
but the sun sneaks between
blinding eyes
illuminating the scars
then I saw the noose...
we all hung there
the apples, the branches,
and me
more men came
they'd been watching
we all hung there
it was comfortable
in her shade
she could take us all
she was very strong

The worst part seems to be
Not being able to breathe
Its unfair
Maybe it would've been best to
Not be at all
No, this is good
But wasting it is not
Drunk on a futon
Reading Goethe
Its going to be very
Hard
To let this all go
Won't it?
The worst part about it seems to be
Not being able to breathe
But as you watch the others go
Your cats, your mother, your loves
You will be ready
Young man.
Won't you?
............................................................­...........

We stood face to face
Two alive
Both human
Occupying the same
Time
I felt her words like
Deafening disease
And she stared at my face
Like it was
Dogshit
While somewhere else
A flower bloomed
A lion tore at the neck of a gazelle
A child was born
A star died in the sky
A woman stared at her *******
In the mirror
A tribe ate rats for supper
A man masturbated in the dark
The universe was in perfect
Harmony

back on the bourbon
the $8 bottle
sweating away another
wild lonely night
locked in my small rented room
stumbling over
passion
life
woman
pain
poetry
all dying
smiling numb
and laughing to nobody
waking up slow and naked
put on the coffee
wash your face
try to wash away
the defeat
study the words
that madman wrote
last night
he knows you better
than you ever will

A beautifully coated
Fat raccoon
That didn't make it
Across the long lonely stretch
Of Gaffey Street
Behind the petroleum refinery
The tongue hanging in eternal horror
Eyes dangling from the skull
It made me sick
When we were kids we found a
Rotten opossum on the
other side of town
The upper class,clean,quiet part
We poked at it with sticks
Flipped it over
The other side soggy with death
There were maggots crawling out of
It's eye
It made me sick
All the guys said
"****! She's fine!" When she
Passed by
Yes, she had quite an ***
A body that tempted Christ
And left the devils in agony
You could see it in her walk
The guys said "She has beautiful
eyes
Hazel/green/grey
They change colors in the light"
I hadn't noticed
So I took a look
Her gaze was abandoned
Floating meaninglessly
In a forever unknown
Space
And then she opened her mouth...
It made me sick

I often forget
That the surrounding world
Has....advanced???
Since Hamsun wrote Pan.
I am out of touch.
So I decided to browse the
Stale
New non-fiction section.
I picked up a book about love
At...random???
This ****** guy...
This guy was saying
"It's alright if he left you. You just weren't compatible. It doesn't mean your not good enough. Somewhere someone is just DYING to shower you with love and affection."
Ugh....
How could you
Lie
To the broken hearted?
Maybe this nut
Actually believed what he was
Putting down.
I flipped the pages.
More motivational lies.
He could've saved
200 pages and just said
"Love is every bit as violent and dangerous as ******."
-Hamsun. 1894.

Inferno Arizona. 10 am.
I pick at once frozen french fries
Stare at stove with no thought.
No thoughts of no thought.
Then the phrase
"Death On A Dreary Brook"
Slips out from the subconscious.
And I am unsure of the definition of
Dreary
And I am not sure that Brook
Is really a word
I look up the definitions
Dreary:dull.bleak.lifeless.
Brook:a small stream.
Alright...
Who put those words in my head?
What wants me to know what about what?
I take a slug of hot black coffee
Rub my small hands upon my
Chewed up face
I do it all like coffee hot small face
Are real things
Like trivial mouth sounds can
Shelter me from the definite terror
Of undefinite existence
You can cling to your words
And pretend they mean something
Death on a dreary Brook.
Words mean nothing
Black crows trapped
In pitch dark caves
For eternity.

my neighor died last night
kid my age
fell off the high cliffs of San Pedro
shattered onto rock
the ones that battle the sea...
came from a decent family
hard laboring mexicans
that never smiled
in fact the only time i ever saw the kid smiling
was when he would drive
reckless
taking the corners at 45
screeching 50 in a school zone
making the streets look like
a *******
when i first heard about it
i wondered if he'd jumped?
does that make me an *******?
didn't you think that too?
would you have jumped?
...**** man...
suddenly my face isn't looking
that bad

...Death...
What's the big deal?
I practice it at parties
When I
Black out on gin.
I practice it for
8 hours a day
When I
Wander mindlessly at work.
I practice it
Every night
When I lie down
Alone in the dark.
And didn't I hear you say
"I LOVE sleep" before?
And don't you hate
When you have to leave the bed
Every morning?
Then why do you still
Shudder when
Death is mentioned?
And why is that
The only time you really feel
Existence?
...Life...
What's the big deal?
Today I am
Sleeping in.

your a beauty B.C.
one of Caesar's finest conquests
you shrug at paintings
of the crucifixion
you should be cracked stone
fragile, withstanding centuries
gazes knowing your importance
not ever knowing why
Julius' knees would have buckled
if he'd had you

I'd wake around 5 am
And watch my breath
Explode into the cold air
On a purple Saturday morning
I noticed her warmth most on
Days like Those
I'd roll over and press myself against
Her
Then watch shadows of branches
Dance across her
Warm pink face
I'd rise from bed carefully
being considerate
Of her sleep
I'd tiptoe to the washroom
Quietly put on the coffee
And start typing
Looking over to see her
Moan and roll
To the 'clacks' of the keys
Then around noon I'd crawl back
Into bed
While she began to wake up
We'd kiss goodmorning
Then have *** in the shower
She'd start breakfast in her towel
While I sat on the stool
Beside the stove
And we'd laugh and kiss
And the rest of the
People
And the world
We're very far away
The nights were different
There was too much gin
And drunken honesty
And she'd rip at my clothes
Howl like a desperate wolf
And swing for my face
While I kept my arms straight
up high
Reaching for the next
Quiet dark
Warm purple morning

There are those days
When I don't want to
Open the shades
Fall out of bed
Feel the sun
Be human
Those days often begin
Staring into that ******* mirror
It is not pleasant
It is not kind
It is not me in there
It is real, though
It is the only other person
In this room
On those days
After staring
And loathing
The conclusion is often
"Waaaa! Ray's sad! Get over it
You ****** *****."
That usually
Does the trick
I brush my teeth
I lace up my boots
And do it
All over again

When I was 17
In the garage,
I would chug 40 oz Mickeys
Scream
Then hurl them
At the ******* wall.
The young girls laughed.
I used to stick cigarettes
Up one nostril
Inhale
Chug a beer
Exhale through my mouth.
The young girls
Loved that.
Now
24
Drinking alone
In this ****** studio.
I want to hurl this *******
******* designer beer
At the ******* mirror
But I don't.
Where did your
Passion go
Man?
I sigh.
The mirror laughs.
I laugh.
Then open
Another.

I bit the end off of
A seven dollar cigar
It was raining
The same way it did
24 years ago
The day I arrived
Puffing the heaviness
I felt like an old book
Left out in the rain
Then dried by the sun
Dirt stained, cover ripped off
Pages crumbling
By the softest touch
I thought about
All the hell it took
To get to this cigar
On the porch
I puffed the heaviness
It burned smoothly
And felt all too
Familiar