The sky wept
the sky wept
the sky wept
the sky wept
while I leapt,
while I leapt,
well I leapt thru fire.

Gasp sigh perspire.
give me your tired
huddled and heavy laden
that loud light holds us up high
in his left hand and will be *******, man.
we'll be *******, man.

Harvest moon incited madness
granjero in a gas mask
destined
to manifest the liberation front.
watch me kiss the sun.
thirtytwo one, I am done.
canvas demon,
lower the lights &arise.;
like who wouldn't wanna kiss the sky...

Miss 'My,my,my' meet
Major fleet week
now yall dance and drink
each other's blood
doesn't that sound like fun
isn't it so sweet

wonder some
praise the priest
***** mothers ******* sons,
my lachrymose lack of passion
weighs a **** fantastic ton,
I wish someone would come &
divvy me a dole
of fresh faced inspiration
and vintage faded soul...

I am mobile homosapien.
I am not your friend
simply a lazy ally,
I reside in the unfunny pages.

Dated and bathed in flame,
given back to the air
where I came from.
humdrum funk,
under the ugly sun
feelin lovely in the slums.

Undone undone

miles away.

well I was plagued
and pale and panicky,
ripped up torn pages of a
glamor **** magazine,
coco lips pressed to
the cool floor
beneath the hoard

- lovely.

lowly lows loathing
show boats & warships.
flicked a spittle
writer ribbon atop
white middle fingertips
& said,

'praise the passive lord, pretty.'
'yes of course, of course.'                                  
'you are forever, ever golden.'

(oh & then some.)

such a fearless feeling
breathing like new
free fare blaring lights thru
iron clad glass and
such as life, the knifey night
comes to pass, short & sweet;
shock treatment, therapy.

shot right thru me.

weak need.
stripped bare and bored
I stare and mourn
& I laugh.

bliss
wrapped in magic,
you poor perfect *******.


I would just
hate
to be you right now.

the motherships are
hovering overhead
& to the east,
apollo breathes fire
past the ******* incisors, like
'try &
catch me now'

now,
or never.

to my west I felt nothing
but the most
uncomfortable comfort.
it's just.
too.
much.

becoming barefooted
clouds of dust I run
to the godlight
& in time I find I
also become
disenchanted.

& I'm just freeezing
& my feet are filthy & bleeding
but
anything for that rush

tell me somethin brother
do ya cluster with the others?
are you some
undiscovered color
in the monochrome gutter?

are you sixsixsix seven
aren't you *** & heaven

dost thou seek
the foul
or the feather'ds;
brother of blood
& sweat,
is thou the sheep
or the shepherd?

wolfman.
we want the teeth.
to the tooth, troopers.

how rude;
I can see right thru
that wool suit
all too true to the stupor,
stupid.

don't you know I know you,
don't you.

hey, I'm
seeing spiders &
shadows & lights again &
there comes a point
in your life when
you realize
it's all this forced speech
about how
the weather is fine &
no one has died
that shouldn't have.

it's like sitting
in an unfamiliar bathtub
til the water goes cold,
knowingly just floating
in frosty clouds of your own filth,
that sick type of epiphany
that we're all just sad little
feeder fishes painted gold
that live to eat **** **** float
get old go blind become senile
then hopefully die
before anything too terrible happens.
happy ends.

unlikely.

high noon &
the horse flies are biting,
for the life of me.
if you find yourself dead
or alive.
they'll pay you for perfect timing.

so smile sunshine
the drain hasn't
swallowed you yet.

no problem no sweat.

humorously ludicrous.

the lunar rock flickering
& all that
co$mic glitter
pulsating
almost saying
I should return to the
wretched place
whence I came.

phoning home.

captivated
the moon's only reflecting
radiation from the sun
& some of those ancients
thought that ball of gaseous hell
was god himself.

I am now these clouds
of heaven chemicals &
other toxic emissions &
I am in awe of all of this.

there was an epic in the sky
& unfortunately I am limitied by
a lack of understanding of the
technical jargon.
the sad fact is to me
real ideology is not possible
& nothing but impractical knowledge.

.... and I don't follow.

I'm afraid

I don't follow

black carbon paper lips  
peyote nothing to eat
lord made em sick
prayed to jesus in a backseat
after birth behemoth's armpit
the end.

the end
the end
the end is near

white flags folded in memoriam
klansmen's hoods
bartered goods for gunpowder
kinds who werent designed
for human eyes to see
cause see son
their light is blinding.

they sleep
when the sun is shining
lying in a field of drug flowers.
hugs for smokes & hot showers.

what's the headcount.

man I was done yesterday.

I'm sitting here suffocating
numb to the new world
attitude & outcome
smothered in
carnal crimson summer
not for money or love or
anything or anyone.

I'm just sitting here
burning under the moon
thinking about alpha omega
& who took it upon themselves
to leave out the in-betweens.

godless heathens.
screechy gospel
that goes on for days

straight trip no stops.

forget me
as I forget myself
when I know I've never felt
so lacking

so now

I'm just here laughing.
it's all one big *** joke
and this is all a dream.

surely we're all sleepwalking.

strange thing
I step outside my being
& walk around feeling fresh & dazey
certain I can't be sure of anything.

windy winding whining about wonderful

wonderful nothing.



strange thing I

absolutely love you.



don't look at me, *****,
you
make me sick.


I'm kidding.

& I'm
such a bore, & I'm so so
so very interesting

I just love happy endings.