Come closer. Should you wish to that is; believe me, I empathize with your apprehension. By now I would guarder such hope; as one stepping further into the web that surrounds this deathbed. Perhaps that makes a spider out of me. With patience shall I wait for any and all whom hunger in the pangs of their own curiosities as one draws ever near. Those that will tug away the webbing cob of my fading lair must heed this final warning. What one may find down a set of stairs, through a door and then some more may startle and surprise you. I may yet breathe, palpitate still with the ebb of life. Think less of this than the latter for if I have gone, know that I: your drooling host have become the scent of the air, the scatter of amassed earthen wares. The venom of my soul tips the edge of each and everything that I have never owned. As I render this tome know that my face is pressed flush to the in-perceivable glass, the lens that parts the hallowed derision between this life and the next. Do not blink, my guest, for this is a staring contest.

Terrible divides, steep creatures fishing from the fissures.
Devil ties, honor cries telling of fable able love lies.
Red rug **** from… Ah stomp down pound twice round.
Let me in dearth harp melody killing me true internally. Over me, you do du thee or in one to learn to unseen these say said twas. What then spoke big loud a proud voice e bound red to set the turns in a state of decay. Spread death red pestilence.
Broken brains with bad temperaments. To know this clever myth, in definitely one word siphon spell check commiserate in-consumption

Only fitting to continue after that, twas broken in two-tone spits of *****
Oh how one can be so indiscriminate, yet be so in to it
Suckling finger to finger, the artist and his soul slip through one another
And ****, there it is… why I am drunk, why so earthbound?
No, No, that la-la-di-dah sing song, nickname, sick game
Ah… already this is where I end, lying before the gate, spread in sprawls of my final death thrall, the spastic convictions, emotional token, so wholly holy that I am certain of this and this alone; they, folk of blend and contrast so steady will carrier this body through the gates, this world or that, bounce and then back, splendor in form, surrender to utter the weight of universal, expressions in the shade of totality
Goodnight too.

Backward now, to when I knew you, to when you knew me. Can you remember? Because I can’t seem to forget…

“What to do about nothing?” Its just who we were or what we became I suppose. There are always those who have marched under this banner and there will be many more still; us lost boys needn’t double take the waving motto that danced above our heads. No second-guessing the ephemeral, for we held tightly to the only certainty we had.

Paintings hang high on walls and in fancy frames
Music blows through the ear as hot wind whispers
Talk is called cheap at blind book signings
Poetry sits patient in parchment fold leaflets atop trashcans over flown
Culture is no longer a noun, another adjective scripting the actor to frown
So beg questions profound, what have we done?
As becoming becomes a stripped scrap of bone

Calamity forever, the individual snared by ancestral surrender
All the while spectacular wonders persist in mocking that which boldly engenders
The passage of their faceless makers, leaving only us fakers
To gawk, jaws agape, slipping towards our attentive fates whatever the base Seemingly so resistant an occupation worthy of the sacrifice, to trade ****** space

Things we used to be
Or rather that which we are still
We as in I
I as in you
You as in me

Just a pair of eyes
Disembodied, disinherited
Then a word or two
Spoken uncertainly, with imperfect diction
Next came a body coated matte
Appearance totally flat
A reprisal of the reeling mind
Discontented, self remarked
Struck like fells of flak shells
Wrack

Emotive motion to inhale pain pill smoke
Foiled
Spoiled through imparts of ignorance
Palette saturated, severance pre-packed
Wheeze ever
A bio beat box, palpitate off tempo
Disharmony collate
Chaos culture, we the cancer self-castrating earth
Bastardized with sickly sounding mirth
Loudest, proudest, irreverent
Disclaimers
Naked
Reclamation
The origin known as nature

Said I was, then I wasn’t
Tossed my photo id
99 on the interstate
Forgot my home address
This or last years birthdays
Cerebral teasing, electrical wheezing
Coughing up candy colored viscous mixtures
Pain pills, strange ills, black tar rapt
Plastics wax kid cradle doping until fatal
Sipping succulent sups from yang’s ladle
Freak streaks bisect mind-framed societies
Claim lives and blind young eyes
Perhaps its an exaggerated fable
More able however an argument for contrast
Long-lived mobile monument smoke stacks
Toothless twelve year old flashing crack caps
Slow know elapse forgotten hats blown home
Always sixty seconds to go, cool clock interlock
Alleyway temple made meek street ever bleak
Folly is an empty spoon, children’s cartoons
Wall starter, void walker, treble swelled neurotic
Creeps dream witchcraft borderline hypnotic
Say it was before it wasn’t

Think it best today to jump page
Says the inner sage, wild man escapes
Headline banner, fear campaign
Mister misinformation, propaganda minister
Save face by way of erasing occupied space
Grace diminished vehemently as secrets leak persistently
Honor bound gentlemen hound wolfishly at the unseen
What revelry, in snow toned detection
Earth spotted idles of another prayer
Looking like this one is satiated, mistaken vision
The over crowded barge, sinking half way back to Cuba
Now they owe what they never before had owned
From the get go, loaned out credit levies buckle heavily
Mass selective gravity magnified their electricity
Grave deep run lines of inter-connectivity
******* summer of next celebratory existence
Excluding the pack of wicked sack-happy vandals
Hunger groans honestly, with choir hymns preaching holy honesty
I am a dumb spectator with a gun.