You
Are not a man.
You are not worth
My mercy
Or my words how dare you
Touch him
With your hands filthy
Threaten to beat the **** out of
My lover?
If he doesn’t give you his cell phone you
*******
Or else he could give you
A ten minute *******
And escape with his life
And his bones intact
But not with his dignity
Not without ***** rising in his mouth and pain shooting through his body and reaching deep into the cracks that I have slowly been helping him heal
You are
Not worth my mercy
Or my words and
If I had my way you
Would be
Sitting pretty under my knife
If I had my way I would have my
Sadistic revenge.
Your bones
Are going to look so good
As earrings.

I'm the best and worst,better than your first,
*******, but worse than Courtney takin' the Shotgun to Kurt,
Chick-Chick BOOM! too soon?-get the the **** out
I got more brains than the Cobains Greehouse,
He was in Nirvana...now maybe he's IN NIRVANA,

I don't know I'll leave it there maybe ask Buddha,
brutha believe me you can't deceive me,or relieve me,
even a trained hunting Dog can't retrieve me

Let's be Frank...
I leave rappers quieter than Helen Keller's beef with Anne Frank,
need enough Franc's for a trip to France to get some stamp's Franked...

Frank White or Frank Castle I'm an angry Irish *******,
arguments against me are simply facile,
sit the **** down, drop the Mic like a hot Spud,
afore you get stood all over by the Bull Stud,
I'm a ******* detector, Patriotic defector,
criminal Electors rippin' off the Exchequer
while I'm busy in your Ma's room strippin off her knickers!

I'm swimmin with an Army of ex Special Forces Women
to the Island offshore accounts are on Gunnin' and Grinnin,
constantly Sinnin' I'm Constantine slammin a Mirror offa Demon
Leavin your bird's face like a Doughnut glazed in *****,
dosin' every coffee cup in MIT with DMT,
Observin Scientists tip over at the knees like fallin' trees
new discoveries abound as PHD'***** the ground,
if Forest Whitaker fell in the woods would he make a sound?

My ground and pound will confound-verbal skills will astound,
next memory is wakin' up with a crowd around,
ye wanna step and test?,don't mean to be crude,
but ye must have a real taste for hospital food,
through a straw-thru a wired up jaw,
playing ****** up games like Saw,
ye shoulda saw the consequences when ya raised yer paw
yer Paw shoulda raised ye better bout raisin' fists to yer betters,
bunch of bedwetters tryin' to do a Man's job, forget it.

I'm the best and the worst,best friend-worst enemy,
big mistake offendin' me,don't need no one defendin me
but I still have a crew of real hard rocks,
the lads are used to the hard knocks,
you're used to the hard *****!
your faces are so shocked,
you just got yer snot rocked
now you're layin' face first cause you ****** with the best/worst!

I was a *****
When they told me that I “needed” to wear a bra in the third grade
like my eight-year-old body was too ****
And they would want things that they shouldn’t
Like it was my fault for being this way

I was a *****
The kind that got sent to the office for too short skirts and too much cleavage
Already guilty because I had hips and thighs and *****
And I was guilty of making them look of being big of taking up space
My body was an ugly indecent thing

I was a *****.
Not the ******* in the bathroom kind of *****.
Although, given the chance I might have been.
I was the kind of ***** that loved them seeing my body.
The kind of ***** that was great at ******* and better at stripping.

I was a *****.
I was the kind of ***** who faked ******* with the best of them.
Because watching them when they heard me, saw me, felt me coming.
Was unbelievable.
It was empowering.

I was a *****.
I did what they asked because it made me feel like I was worthwhile.
It made me feel like I was valuable.
It made me feel like the pits in my heart had finally been filled.
It made me feel like he didn’t leave me when I was eight months old.

I was a *****.
I pawned myself out like answers to the history test.
Because he smiled.
Because he was the kind of boy that made you want to say yes, yes, YES
And I did what I wanted.

I was a ***** because I couldn't say no,
Yell no
Scream no
Whisper no
When his hands twinned around my wrists like handcuffs keeping me there in the silence

I was a *****
Because even though his hands were touching me
I was too afraid to say so
Too afraid of it all falling apart
Too afraid of being the thing that broke it

I am a *****.
Because you don’t stop being one.
Just because you learn that *** is more than a strategic move.
Because you see the scars it’s leaving.
Because you finally start to hear your broken heart.

I am a proud *****.
I refuse to be ashamed.
My “number” is a badge of honor I wear right above my *****.
Because being a ***** takes refinement

I’m taking it back one word at a time.

*****.
*****.
******.
***.
*****.
****.
****.
Daddy Issues.

I am a *****.
But now I’m the kind of ***** that backs away when it starts to hurt.
When they get rough.
When they bite too hard.
When I can’t hold back the tears anymore.

I am the kind of *****, who stopped giving.
Giving *******,
Giving it up,
Giving little pieces of myself,
Giving a **** what you think

I am a *****,
My ****** is singing rally songs and yelling protest chants
It’s wearing a sticker that says “I voted”
It running around barefoot in a sundress with nothing holding it down
And it’s backing me up in every fight

So call me a *****,
Because I’m the kind of ***** who won’t stop fighting until **** is always, always, always a crime.
The kind of ***** who will never be afraid to say no again.
I’m the kind of ***** that’s going to tear down your patriarchy one ******* brick at a time.
And I won’t stop until I am ****** and aching on the ground where it once stood.

The fervid lover sits on the bed, towards the edge
With his golden ash tray, and a coal shining near her mouth
in washed out radiance, quite enough to overlook.

She ashed her medicine, watching the cigarette tears
glide to her thigh, bruised by that man with a shared name
before deciding that she’ll stay.
******* coward anyway;

A tree swaying in the middle of the concrete jungle.

Pain came every time the little boy heard his name
from the monster who changed when the moon rose over the edge
of coliseum mountains, holding barbarity in his eyes and fetor in his mouth.

But when the sun rose oh how he loved and looked
in admiration, telling him “Don’t shed any tears.
There’s nothing to fear.
Why shed your tears?”

A tree swaying in the middle of the concrete jungle.

I put therapy loaded with copper pills in my mouth
and gave it a *******, trying to decide in a pool of confused tears
my emotions, and if they were stewed or straight edge.

I put the syringe down for just a moment and looked
beside me, analyzing the plastic cuff with a familiar name
before deciding that I’ll stay.
******* coward anyway;

A tree swaying in the middle of the concrete jungle.

your moustache is ******* disgusting. do us all a favor and get rid of that ****

2. your “I don’t date” **** gets old really quickly. you’re not “avant garde”, you’re just a ***** who hides his feelings. good luck with that in the future.
3. *** is not an obligation. my body is not a commodity. I do not owe you a *******. my lips are sacred, my tongue is a queen, my ***** is a ******* throne. your peasent ***, is not near worthy

4. you can not buy happiness. unfortunately your daddy taught you at a young age that a new car can fix any problem. unlike you, when I’m 40, ill be earning just enough to get by, but won’t need gin to fill the gaping hole which your money can’t fill

5. karma, is a *****. in fact, karma is the biggest ***** you will ever meet. 

6. I am not weak because of my depression. I am not weak because of my sobriety. in fact, my sobriety is the reason my depression is gone, it is the reason my wrists are clean, it is the reason the train tracks I had on my arms have faded to a weird looking tan line.

7. I loved you. 

8. loved. past tense.
9. I thank you. you have rid me of darkness. you have emptied me of hate. you have filled me with nothing but the sweet, sweet taste on my tongue from cursing your name.

10. you will never, find anyone who will treat you as good as I did. I opened my fists for you. I let the flies that were lodged between my fingers free. I made you laugh. *******, did I make you laugh. 
11. you made Chicago my favorite city. the wind whispers your name at every moment and I’m forever reminded of the person I left behind. 

12. I memorized your lips like the keyboard I type on.

I’m forever wondering if you bothered to memorize mine.

Nervously fidgeting with ring unaccustomed to left ring finger.
"It's a purity ring."
"But I'm pretty sure she gave you a *******."
No, I lied.

Remember the inside of her mouth as
warm and wet;
passionate gnashing of tongue
weeping of lust
eyes widened to this
novel sensation shocking
a pubescent body.
The world melted away
cares and woes cast in abeyance
watching her perform eyes closed
like an artist.
Entranced
the cry of love's voice silenced
with carnal desire drowning the sound,
a warm sticky tidal wave
sending sensation tingling down the spine
kicking through feet to the toes
gasps getting shorter, quicker.
My God
A car crash
What to come next
Feeling a pressure build like a flood to the dam
Concrete cracks
Levee breaks
A monument of celibacy obliterates
Dissolution into oblivion

then release.

Tension carried
slipped and you
gazed upon her
like a goddess
unlocking the eternal secret
of Man.
She sheepishly looked away
You worshiped where she lay.

Years later, nervously fidgeting with ring
well worn onto bony finger.
"You remember the warmth of naked torsos
furiously kneading like dough,
juxtaposing the harshness of denim crotches
grinding vivaciously
hoping to catch the spark to a fire."
A fire alright,
burning inside(s)
with the unlit match ready to ignite
between quivering thighs.
You had the key
undid the button of chastity
fingers slithering down
through ground fertile tillage
to a hidden chamber.
The guest pirouettes
but keeps her on her toes
in and out,
rapturous gyration.
Watching the air leave her mouth
head tilted back
til washed away
atop a sigh
that pleases an ear
to this day.
Ring feels a little looser than I remember.

Sitting atop a grassy hill,
her head on your shoulder,
watching the sunset for hours.
"Do you remember the taste of her ****** in your mouth?
I bet you can recall the path from
her kiss to her cheek,
jawline to the nape of her neck,
glissade from retreating lips
dragged across smooth skin
saliva trail moist
sliding down ever so tranquil,
velvety skin ever so alive.
Weaving through the meniscus of her breast,
expertly with eyes closed
(you've done this before, it's almost a chore),
fingers tight around waist grip a little fiercer
mouth digs in deeper.
Corner of lips communion with
goose-bumped areola;
mouth dances 'round like a native ritual,
til you pounce on the prey
proceeding with the furious primal *******
of a ravenous child,
only charged with the lustful energy of
an insatiable beast in euphoric heat.
Did your tongue rotate clockwise or counterclockwise?

Snapped back to the present,
eyes had burned holes in the fading sun
a million times over.
She had looked up at you curiously.
A weak smile in return.
You glanced down wearily at the ring that matched hers.

I am falling in love again.

This is me, self-destructing. I will lie in front of him, naked, look into his eyes the way he wants me too and whisper in his ear the things he dreamt about. I will touch him, wherever he wants to be touched, just so he will stay the night, maybe even come back next week, when his **** wants to fill something up. And I'll be that for him. I will be that ****, but I'll be the best **** he's ever had. Cause that's the only thing I'm good at when it comes to men. I cannot be myself with them. I cannot make them fall in love with me, or make them stay. I can **** them off and hear them say that was the best ******* they've ever had. But when my anxieties kick in, they aren't here.

I am falling in love again.
Please, do it different this time. Please just walk away.

Mass or morning; the new detection panel
of six Jewish artillery summaries to see
blonde ***** and married boxes invaded
by the empty strippers while painting a
firearm from the shadow of dawn with
police dogs to the beloved mother of the
Western window, shows showing mistakenly
calling the furies, bears get distemper
enough to scratch the thin skinned
Australians while the planet's emperor winds
up leaving women by admitting only
to getting a ******* in the museum, the spell, |||
the flesh, the color, the skin, the sensation,
the adolescent kisses under the side of his father
In general terms, my oscillating lover
keeping the pain abroad remembers
his hostility towards Paul's assembly,
there are enough trees on the corporate website.
Perhaps the Jews who ****** the tongue,
the fog and the drawers in a book of dark images
were prostitutes who were abstract yellow devils.
That fire engulfed the whole building,
saints on their knees separated by the "Eve"
to paint a divisor on the order of a dog
that is right since it is on the rise in the breaking
of the police to speak of the public to believe
that the mother of the beloved of the living God
of matter was thrown onto the United States
of America in the division of the person
of all time as we warm ourselves.|

Honey why don't you ever write me something romantic?
Those eye's of my once teenage wife looked at me in that same way whenever I knew I better cave or the fun time factory was going be closed for awhile.

Well honey you know that's not really my style and especially after getting back form the war and all it just seems like something inside me died.
But you weren't ever in the service.

Yeah I know that's what's so ****** up about it.
What?
Once again my use of choice yet altogether confusing ******* had worked  kids there so easily impressed  with *******   no wonder those ******* twilight books sold.

Gonzo !
*******.
Huh?.

Dam you Jedi mind trick you never ******* work!
***** you George Lucas for mind ****** me as a child  not that I watched those films.
What do you think I am some kind dork who post's **** all over the net  for cheap
laughs cause he has no true life?
Okay that was a bit harsh I have a life well kinda.

Gonzo! Are you listening?
My demented little ****** with a heart of a gold card asked?
Of course I'm listening duh you know I'm a artist I'm like always deep in thought
about serious ****.

Okay like what?  

Well if your a hand model and you book a gig is it called a *******?
Are you ******* nut's.

No sweetheart I'm a drunk.
Seriously?
Your right I've always been insane with a chance of brilliance in some misspelled ideas.

Look Gonzo I'm not joking just listen okay.
My little ****** just went speaking and like any good man I paid no attention and just shook my head in agreement it's a trick I learned from my grandfather.
Course now it's no longer a secret being I've let all the chicks no ******.

She kept rattling on all the while I thought pure sweet thoughts while staring at her *******.
I was lost on a sunny meadow  where all was soft and gentle.
I'm kidding it was more like a ***** involving  Jennifer Aniston ,Rihanna , and that total **** who was all the rage you know that former kids star you know Betty White.

It was all going pretty normal well aside from the pool of ranch dressing and Justin Bieber's
head on a goat's body I always knew he was into devil worship.
I just hate we have something in common.

I couldn't take anymore so I ran I ran so far away.
But still I couldn't get away.

So we have a deal?

Yes what dear lord what had I agreed to?
******* Betty White that Hanna  Montana **** ******.
Oh thank you baby so much  I just know it'll be great.

Yes it will.
I had no clue what this strange little female was speaking of for one I was lost
and I felt all naked and vulnerable to bad no hot stripper ****** were in the vicinity
yeah I know that's a big word for me thank you Dora the explorer sure I was disappointed
it wasn't a **** at first but you really have opened my horizon's.
That just sounds wrong but enough with the foreplay kids.

I was silent deep in thought and finally before I could ask my semi faithful
****** spilled the beans once always beats cutting them yeah girl farts they just take
all the fun out it.

Baby I cant wait to read your new romantic write.

What dear lord!
It was a nightmare from which I couldn't wake it was impossible task
a myth like if you take yoga you can blow yourself.
Gonzo cannot write romance.

It just doesn't happen hell I'm Gonzo and even I know that.

Baby after I read it   I'm going to give you the best gift ever.
It's something you always wanted.

My mind went spinning as to this want that would be worthy.
Hmm lets see .
So you mean were going to ****** Justin Bieber  and bathe in his blood ?

No baby even better.

What could be better than that ?
My mind was working overtime ****** I hadn't thought this much sense
that old teacher asked me what I wanted to do with my life.
Course then  I realized when he asked me to find his candy bar in his pocket that he was just a perverted janitor.

Yeah it's a long story don't ask.

You know baby you me and my friend  and her other friend and this time you'll actually
get to join in.

It was like Christmas for a pervert.

So looks like I was going to be writing a romantic story.

I could do this especially for some twisted freaky ***  hell it's what are country was founded upon.
Duh I mean bribes people they didn't invent freaky *** until the 60's.
You know right around the great depression.
Yeah I bet whoever invented the ******* put a smile on someone's face.  

See not only in my long winded writes do you get ******* you get culture and that history ****.
yeah I know your welcome high five to *******.

I was selling my soul but it's okay it wasn't anything I hadn't done before.
To create this masterpiece I had to get alone with my thoughts yet still have a good
internet connection duh  how else would I write this *******?

What do you think I am some dinosaur that writes on paper.
Do I look like I'm Amish yeah that shows about as real as my crystal **** operation
I have in the garage.

I'm kidding I don't have a garage but my grandmother does yeah like I'm going to blow up my own house.

I was off to my secret hiding place to be alone and write the greatest romance story off all time.
It would surpass all the greats of the past.
Like Gone With The Wind or that story of those two **** pirate cowboys you know
they made a movie about it called Wayne's World.

Will Gonzo be able to concentrate for more than a half second.
Avoiding ***** and freaky things on the internet like I didn't know you could fit that up there dot com.

Will anyone actually get to the end of this without falling into a coma or getting more **** not that my readers smoke ****.

Will little Timmy make it out of that well to find grandpa and lassie having a quality
peanut butter session  don't ask.

All this and more will be answered in the next exciting  and even more long winded
episode of Go **** Yourself A Love Story. Part 2 coming soon to poetry site near you.

Yeah I know I'm not right .

Cheers kids.

don't remind me
that the rent's due on tuesday
when i'm ***** deep
inside your sister.
don't expect me
to text you right back
if you call when
i'm getting a *******.
don't worry me
about getting groceries
if i'm busy
******* the earrings
off of your sister.
don't remind me
about the dishes in the sink
when i'm obviously
out of your reach.

Spent the evening walking nowhere streets
dodging horns and sirens of hungry motorbike taxis.
It was a parade of street-food vendors,
security guards half asleep by bottles of whiskey.
Every woman I passed was beautiful,
laid their *** on the numbered tables
as off-hand as their mobile phone, their purse;
their bored men. Each one had their toenails painted,
wore short skirts and vest tops in the stifling heat.
The best of them wore tight dresses of black or red
and ate their food in the same studious manner
I imagined they would take to the zip of my jeans.

Could feel the sweat roll down my back
kicking gravel out my sandals every ten strides.
The playboys rev their motorbikes
as if it were a talent they had been working on,
a kind of siren song to tempt the free women.
Each one is on the lookout for a bargain.
Each one streaks past to some indiscernible point
where they will bury themselves amongst
the massage parlours, karaoke bars, and short-stay hotels;
Each one a straight-up brothel once you make it through the doors.
I feel too awkward in this ******* town to order a sandwich
let alone try out my second language to ask for a cheap *******.

Every foreigner here had some kind of breakdown.
Some kind of complex that drew them like a moth to flame
to some place where white skin is enough to feign riches,
stimulate desire and place you amongst better men.
We steal a living for a year or two of forever blue skies.
We eat good food and toast ourselves every evening
with cold lager and palm leaf cigarettes.
We cannot read a word in these humid streets
where every single building holds a portrait of the King.
Spent the evening with my shadow, both alive in the night
beneath the heady aroma of cooking oil and street-food spice,
both hurting to become, both slipping out of sight.

It's 3 P.M, Sitting, staring at the reruns of Jeopardy and Seinfield
a microwave steak and some potatoes
sit gingerly on the tray, crunchy and frozen....

It's 5 P.M., a bottle of room temperature beer
cuddles itself around my hands
some potato chips spread across my lap.....
the television remote and I sit inches apart
yet, the separation feels like miles

It's 7 P.M., cold, rusty water pelts my naked flesh
the bath towels feel like steel wool
every little fiber, scratching and tearing at my skin
the soap is as tough as rubber......

It's 9 P.M, bed bugs have swarmed my mattress
scratching and biting, I smash one and a million more follow
some are flat and dry and some explode with leaking blood....

It's 11 P.M. I slip into my dungarees, there's a ***** spot
in the middle of the seams.... my shovel is rusty....
the van leaks exhaust and it bleeds gasoline

It's 1 A.M., I gaze at the tombstones and they gaze back
a foggy midst looms from the hills, it's raining....
a flash of lighting strikes, bright as the sun itself
thunder rumbles the earth.....

It's 3 A.M., strolling by the red light district
a back alley *******, no condoms....
ten dollars for one hour, twenty for two
I only have five.....

It's 5 A.M. the sun begins to rise
beer bottles pilled at my door
saliva, drying at the seams of my mouth....
back into my bug infested abode.....