Atlas shrugged &
shook the brains  
outta Tuesday's baby
about noon
on a Kathmandu doomsday.
the Berkley Tribe,
all the like & kindly rivals
was all in an uprising
over the missing peace
& meanwhile
The Big Evil cavorted on
in the east
of everywhere.

and the They was distorting real reality
to tickle their own fancy
& pawn overpriced romance
novels off on the populace.

nevermind the **** ***
boiling over on the stove top.

foiled again in clover feilds
& the poison only yields
it never stops completely

**** for pysche
forcefield shield
of freedumb fighter
white knight
izard-*******
grand wizards

winner gets the glittery
7 minutes in heaven
with the blister queen
licking scissors
shiva shiver
ego wither &
sizzle in a cigarette flicker
**** a filter
my lungs aren't black enough                                                         
& this isn't the end

filthy tongued
french kiss misery.
    
he's that crass.
& he wants to be a *******, so
Charlie did himself in the chapel&
got laughs when the rats
came to have at the maggots
in his skin
he called em both his children
& loved em unconditionally.

Only figured
he address the issue
by ******* bout
the situation that faced
him & all of us
instead of
setting things in they place.

*have grace

Man...
I should not even be speaking to you. You don't got that broken look, & your edges aren't sharp enough.
That exoskeleton never saw the light of day, it laid down and died before ever being concieved. Boy, you ain't no mystery. It kind of breaks my ****** heart though, yknow?
No, ydon't though.
I mean, yknow how it feels to bleed out all your aura, feeding it to, **** I don't even know, the unknown. Dark energy. The infinite divine, the great conundrum.
Givin it to god? Wherever you find him or her or whoever. Whatever.
I guess it doesn't really matter as long as you're happy.

In the dust clouds of the destruction the bedlam be loud & disgusting & lovely & you may find solace if you so choose. That ***** is  hiding specifically there, you just gotta look. But it WILL be exhausting & exasperating & emotionally draining.
All the ice'll melt before it bubbles & becomes vapor & you won't believe it, all cause you can't see it but that's ******* stupid.
They say people don't like to be called stupid.  Yet the sad reality is a lot of them are, or at least they just got a lot of really stupid tendencies & would rather not address those kinds of things. But see... man, I don't think anything's sacred anymore.
So simply. **** it, go with the flow, just...float.

Oh I wish.
I could take myself serious, so others might take me serious but I end up sounding crazy either way. I think we're all losing interest here. & I'm gettin real sick of tryna make sense of myself, to myself, to & of everybody else.
So if anyone needs me you know where to find me. I'll just be kickin it in the middle of "the ****" like. This is my normal.

There is no need for
discernable lines
in the moment
I am content.
there is no need for anything.
but the moment.
naked & anxiously
awaiting reawakening
& my hands betray me
by shaking & blantantly saying
you've swayed me

it's crazy.

today I created nothing
& I am wasted anything
& everything.
but it's okay.
the mosaic is
a face faded
in the foreground.
this is fair ground.

today I'll walk on air
today I'll float on clouds
today I'll foam at the mouth

then I'll roll around
in my beloved filth
that you brought about.
be proud,
I can't be without it.

lay low.
stay mellow for a second.
stellar stolen record
cave dweller with
stage presence
I am angel dust
in the devil's lungs.

***** blood
forked tongue
love you forever.
or
til things get level again .

whatcha want,
a ****** medal?
well, ****... yeah.

when it's all settled
we won't ever
worry again.
we'll call this melancholy
something funny
we can laugh at.

exactly that.

I am aggravated ether
in the moment
so I can't sleep on it
enigma dramatic
bathed in acid & oil

& all the clouds in the sky
are mostly smoke
blown in consoling faces
dole full in the wasteland.

dam & sire fanning the fire
in the furnace
lighted up for days.
they didn't know it could
turn around & burn us.

oh but,
I'm not learned enough.

all the **** while I'm
taking it all in.

three sixty, panorama.

light a ******* candle
& put me up on the mantle
when the mainframe scrambles
&don;'t let me down til
they've figured out time travel.

I won't have any of this.

still in my soul I am savagery.
& these bad *** habits
are all tragedies
considering the fact
that I can make magic
if I see it fitting
to the situation.

which doesn't clique
with certain niches,
they get kinda ******
...they shouldn't.
it's all ******* anyway.


sun slivers.


new day.

strait crazy

saintly mania raving.

new age jainist phasers
sang they praises
like
'hey mr bojangles,
go mangle up the angle,
shake shake shake the frame
& they'll thank you later.'

...sorry not today.

I'm feeling under the
earthquake weather.
wallowing wonder
following the devil
thru the desert
on great endeavors
to make it rain feathers
that sound like thunder.

famous as ever
nameless as heaven

to say the least
I'm slaying beasts that
came from me
in the first place.
this is lovehate.
lovehate lovehate.
& it's useless.

just lemme set the mood.

it's stupid
brutish beauty
mooing truly bluesy
marks & bruises
infused with martian
harmony incarnate,
caramelized carnage
set to soothing violent music.

broke record store cliché
faded to frustration feeding
a creaturely need for creation
& hellish lust for selfdestruction.

-nothing special-
just an absolute mess who
dilute the stress through allusion
allegory alliteration
hallucination delusion

***** it's a celebration.

tell the rest those losers
that got left I'm doing my best
even though I'm pretty upset
with how it's all panning out.

oh well I guess.

my intention is
to create this
uncomfortably wonderful
unsterilized environment
get high off the light
of seventy small fires
fall in love with the kind
that could **** for hire
get a job buy ****
keep it quiet then expire
nil in its entirety
fluid in its movement.

this is textual ambiguity
the rest is inaffectual
doses of good old
uhmerican ingenuity
like conceptual moses
roaming thru the
******* desert for
forty years

leave him alone
he doin his thang.

he's tryna find his consciousness
truant from the ensuing madness
nothing here is as it seems still
I promise you there
ain't **** to fear.

the people want
consumable truth
available for daily use;
they like being choked
& smoking the cracks
in the broken mirrors
also know as home.

a single empty room
& it doubles as a tomb.

how queer.