Happy Birthday to me.
I brought myself to completion
In the dark of this great soaring ****
Silently I made love to myself
Someone sleeps beside me

In the aisle someone feels
My passion growing and coming
His legs shake as mine quake and quiver
The smell of my love on my fingers
musky, primordial, satifying.

And you could have given us this and that
but you were in the throes of some spaz attack
Spiral down
your spires of blame
and you end up forgetting all the innocent
in their small existence
Influenced by their helixes
and culture, the temperature
and more than we can comprehend
Forgive yourself first and
you'll stop being such a ******* to all the rest
The malaise of the mayonnaise
Lives of all these unwitting folks

I just cant seem to slip this funk
I can mask it with some junk, or some friends
Sitting in a haze, in my own minds maze of dubiety
While people laugh around me, I try to laugh too
The smile on my face is to please you, its just not true
To how I am really feeling on the inside
I could explain the feeling as numb
I could explain the feeling as hardened
And the dumb things friends say are instantly pardoned
Because they just want me happy, and hopeful for something more
I just wait for peace of mind, and rest because
This funk continually ends my days, and starts my "mourning's"

Pop me open
and take look in the trunk.

See that I travel light
but with excess junk.

Too deep in this
I’ve indulgently sunk.

It’s what got me so drunk.
It’s what got me in such a funk.

If you will **** my soul,
I will lick your funky emotions.

Hey baby … what’s your thing?
What say we touch each other?
Oooh yeah … fly on … fly on …

Oh such sweet sounds,
such goodness
such …
uh huh … oooohhh yeah,
Lord ….

& the band plays …
boom boom boom boom ba boom

& the bass rolls on,
feel that baby?
let me kiss your mind.

& the ladies sing …
bah bah bah bah bah

& the drum snares on,
the ladies return,

oh Mommy what's a Funkadelic? ...
I do so love this song.

It helped me a lot
this dark
& just plain wicked day.

i hate aretha franklin
(except for her hat)
and i hate old ladies
who leave lipstick stains
on otherwise perfectly
clean used coffee mugs
(i'm looking at you joan
because i know al, bob and ray
don't wear lipstick and kayla
drinks ***** chai so it's not her)

and i hate sunshine and
i hate rain and i hate people
but i also hate being alone
and i hate how loose these
jeans are but i hate how big
they make me feel

i hate dishes and potatoes and
***** floors and daily specials
(except the jambalaya but i'll
make exceptions for mckenna)

and i hate being tired and i
hate feeling down and i don't
hate myself more than usual i
just hate being in a funk
(why does caryl have to go and
leave me with only one coffee cake
i'd like to throw a long handled
spoon like a harpoon through the
biggest window available or just
the one with pedestrians outside)

Magic man of monophonic root
wreak havoc on the planets of
the yester-years I never saw.

‘Til this very morning, I wake.
I listen to the thirst and fear
and funk of a trembling flower.

******* and pain is hard to
swallow. Breathe, awkwardly
through stars of the regular.

Your tears are too cool to cry.
They would dry up and crust
under a spotlight hotter than Mars.

But you cry to me, in the midst
of an hour, minute or day. Now
a momentous speck of stardust.

Nothing in particular
Just high
Addicted ****** ****

**** my liver
Kidneys
Dissociation is the key

I've spotted the freight train
Have I made it?

Bring me there I beg you
Spoon me
Me, the spoon, all me

Drink DRINK like a FISH

pop pop pass percocet
C-c-c-c-c-cocaaaaiiinneeeeee

***** ****** bored, dumb

**** my LIVER AND KIDNEYS
Dolla dolla nose job **** a stuffy
**** me on a tuesday, sneez sick puppy horsey

Cant finde me
Kant fine me

Run run run run run baby, yes ya do
Explain but not excuse

Substitute kkkills as much
Methadopamine or a xany ***** one night
Dextrahydraphetamine, ketamine meta-clean

Don't try. Understand to
Completely

Every spring runs dry
       **** son, 'least enjoy the high

Some days
in the middle of getting ready
I'll have to stop and
go lie down for a few,
utterly exhausted
by the mere act of getting up.
These are the days
I know, I know,
****.
I'm depressed.

I have no strength
to face the day.
I want to call into work,
sorry, I just can't.
Go back to my bed,
let my blanket swallow me up.
Make a black hole of myself,
cease existing,
if only for a day,
just to recover myself again.