as the night came wailing
in with absenteeism

the shadows of the drink
and the typewriter
were patiently waiting
for the shadow of my
presence to lay down
the next line on the
blank sheet of paper

but I was preoccupied with gamboling
at the resentment of the lethal routine,
murdering the sunlight hours of toil,
dizzy with the habitual gesture of
horrific and dreadful human behavior
and everything I looked at
drove me stark raving mad.

I’m a man of leisure…
leisurely avoiding man
in my citadel of seclusion and
the TV never was too good to me
either but the bathtub always was,
soaking in the eucalyptus
and my own filth
while the psychedelic doom
metal of Mars Red Sky
softly generated my psyche
and I struggle with the troubles
of concentrating and focusing
on one thing at a time
so currently I’m shuffling
between 3 interchangeable books:

The Stranger
The Studies in Pessimism
The Fear of Dreaming

there.
now you know
the sources of my inspiration
and the secret
to my success

the secret is
is that I have
no success

so what shall I write about tonight?

it’s probably best
not to know
until I get there

but my bet is leaning towards
alcoholism, drudgery,
misanthropy and
immortality

and maybe the painful
disbelief of emptiness
that impales my heart
like the tusks of a boar.

finally,
the peaceful night arrived
and detonated all over
creation

as I pour the bottle into the glass

as the fingers took a swan dive
into the little black keys

the last bit of my counteractive
disruption scrapes and dissevers
away slowly and easily
like tender meat.

o’ Chimera, o’ Chimera
don’t you ever let me rise
in the broad daylight again

heat and humidity hit
as I walk out the sliding doors
of the 7/11 cream soda in hand
I walk yawning across the asphalt
where water still pools from
summer showers
as I open the car door I
notice the haze of smog
and starlight and fluorescent
lamps and smell the gasoline
from the thousands of cars
that pass through
I close the door.

You never
told me
you were
a ghost,
Dear,
creeping into
my mind
at night.

Twitter's  night
  mode
provoke   me  for
night   fall.


Twitter's  ****
bird-ladies
affect  me
to  do  so.


Trees, clouds
know   that
i  am   still
a  boy  
not  man.


TO  BE  A  MAN
WHY  I  NEED
TO  ASK

partiality   doing
sea  and  it's

diversified
surface.


Twitter's  nightmode
sexify  me.


I  ****  to
beautiful  ladies
with   twitter's  night  mode.




You  can  say
me   mental  or
internet-addicted.


Birds,  wind
  support   me.

I  am  still
a  boy  not  man

to  be   a
serious    man.



  Why  i  will
require   to
ask
a  rat  and  cat
which  are  busy
to  save b each
other's life
by  killing.


Cat  is  hungry.

Rat  is  in   mode
to  save  it's  life.

I  ****  to
beautiful  beauties.

Twitter's  night-mode
provoke  me
for  night  fall.

Sipping the air of a city night
So heady in the cold
On the move under static lights
Little universes about
To collide

Lone souls each
And all compose this Metropolis
Joy is to be
Discovered in insignificance
Where together
We belong

when i was one...
on the pool of stars.
but all that human
can see
is a single star
that turns out to be me.

remember
when you are the moon
i've seen you again
after a long time
and in the pitch black sky

at last
we were together
the moon
and a star
finally, together

far still
but enough closer
for you to see me

i look up,
oh isn't that my love
just close to you
but won't ever
reach you

i sit in front on my grandfathers shop
where he collects and cuts his butchered meat
i patiently wait in the dusk of sunlight
soaking up the last droplets of summer heat
deep mountain woods grow with the darkness
as the scarlette sky turns to night
and the stars come out; and the crickets cry
i hold a rifle in my hand, but out of sight
my grandfathers cigarette smoke fills the air
cold steel laid softly, as i breath as little as i can
tomorrow i’ll be dreaming of this moment now
without any care, without any plans