William Saroyan said, "I ruined my
life by marrying the same woman
twice."

there will always be something
to ruin our lives,
William,
it all depends upon
what or which
finds us
first,
we are always
ripe and ready
to be
taken.

ruined lives are
normal
both for the wise
and
others.

it is only when
that life
ruined
becomes ours
we realize
then
that the suicides, the
drunkards, the mad, the
jailed, the dopers
and etc. etc.
are just as common
a part of existence
as the gladiola, the
rainbow
the
hurricane
and nothing
left
on the kitchen
shelf.

IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA BASE FORTHWITH.  ALSO,
ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS, SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS, WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, COLONEL CLINCKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES, VENDORS, SUPPLIERS, SALESMEN, ASCCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS, HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, PIMPS, HOES, HOBOS, BUMS, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS, TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS, COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS, RELATIVES, FIANCES, GIRLFRIENDS, BOYFRIENDS, FAMILY, FRIENDS, ENEMIES, EVIL NEMISIS', CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS, QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, ****, DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, (PRE OR POST) MALE IMPERSONATORS, *****, *****, VAN *****, **** VAN ****, LESBIANS, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, YOUNGSTERS, SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS, LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, PECKERWOODS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS, DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS, SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICINE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES, WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS, PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS, RIGHT WING, LIBERALS, OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS, THEY ARE NOT TO CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBER.
BUT IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.

............................................................­............BA-ZING..............................................­......................

so ******* fractured
bloodshot eyes
casual lies
i'm okay, i'm okay
i'm fine i say
no one cares enough to notice
the marks on my wrists
the drawings in my sketch book
the title of my playlist
if my tears pool on the ground
and leak under my door
will you see
does anyone see
what my own thoughts do to me
i'm so **** unstable
so irreparable
it's a shame that i'm wasting all this oxygen
thought of cutting myself off today
but i'm so scared i always end up stoppin'
i wear black because i'm mo(u)rning
and hoping i won't see another
don't give me empty words of comfort
don't give me a warning
give me ******* medication
i sit with some copers
drinkers and dopers
oh how it ***** to be the first to come to
when they're still smokin' and drinkin'
and my thoughts are so blue
so i go straight back
breathing in anything i can
to escape the world
my head
my ******* head
for a few moments
before i come back
come to
and cry
like i am now
i dig at my skin
trying to reach something within
dark or light
anything to make me feel alright
stopping just before there's blood
because i'm already seein' red
i don't deserve tomorrow
only my ****** up yesterdays
make a new plan to carry out
i stumble and shake with regret for what i can't do
so ******* fractured
bloodshot eyes
casual lies
i'm okay, i'm okay
i'm fine i say
no one cares enough to notice
so i continue to medicate myself
melting brain cells
taking in all the smells

I am the night clerk
I work the graveyard shift
I've checked in many people
Never saw anyone check out

When they walk in
the night bell rings
I think
What's all of that crazy thunder about

I've checked in
the wild and weary
the tormented and scary

The pious
the martyrs
the dancers
the fishermen

Even
Bob & Ted
Carol & Alice

Clark Gable
he stayed here too

Everyone looks me in the eye
pleading for a room,
I have many
the night is late
only the dead are awake

Some nights, though, it can be quiet
I put my feet up on the desk
watch another season of the soap opera
The Young and The Restless

There are no regulars
No one returns
Not even
the dopers
the smokers
the flatulent
the token takers

When everyone is checked in
That crazy thunder it stops
But the night is long
There's sure to be another storm.

The idea had been growing in my brain,
Queens, fairies, dopers, junkies, sick, venal,
They are all animals anyway,
Become a person like other people,
Organization is necessary,
All the animals come out at night,
There never has been any choice for me,
Wash all this **** off the streets. My body fights,
There is no escape. I am God's lonely man,
Headaches that stay and never go away,
Thank God for the rain. Wash the garbage and
cannot put it back together again,
One day there will be a knock on the door,
and it will be me. What hope is there for (me?)

It all happens on the other side of midnight
There's a different moon
That shines in a different way
Depending on what side you're on
Music is smoking hot sweating in full swing
Poems are born through a slow dance
Lie's are left twelve hours behind
On the other side
Through a trap door
Dopers are craving to score
With legs intertwined
An Argentine tango has arrived
Giving way to a heat wave
Of girls in their sky scrapper heels
Working overtime
Pimps have branded their cattle
The moon has gone to bed
And so have I

There are no current job openings.

The Foundation
is an equal opportunity employer
and employs personnel
without regards to race
to include but not limited to
spics ****** chinks white trash, jews, ginnies,
whateva the ****
red, black, white, yellow, brown
children or old *****,
prego's
uneducated mongrels
dead beats
god pimping religious fanatic's
bad breath bloviators
**** gob nymphos
cross dressing ***** bag *****
death addicts
frauds
**** suckers,
posers
***** lickers
annul *****
big ****** *******
alcoholics
gore ******
shallow ******
gender bending militant lesbians
drug addicts
stuck up snobs
grave yard enthusiasts
toilet slaves
homophobes
bad rhythm racist
serial killers
rakes
broken hearted ***** willows
twinks , girl boy, boy girl

its complicated
you ******* potatoes

national origin,
veteran status,
Absent Without Leave
proud *****
polygamists'  
*** criminals
sociopaths
***** fetish stoners
educated past your intelligence
tax evaders
amputees
Satanists
cannibals
dumb *****
dopers
eroto-asphyxiators
***** toys
vampire's
necro **** sniffers
bible belting ******* quacks
lazy mother *******
dweebs
horror ******
satanic trans upside down banana splits
and those who pray
in the temples of normalcy

or any other bases
protected by law.

Holly beach crime scene.

In it.
Stopped speaking with words.
Using poems instead.
Like the breeze swaying through the ally to the beach.
Hitting her hair.
Identical.
Like that night in 68.
Where the air cooled on top of the roof.
Where the surfers.
Dopers.
And surf saxers.
Congregated for the haze of a shindig.
And fell into the space and time.
Of love.
Acid.
And continuous sounds of The Doors.



Garrett Johnson.