This is a poem about love
and sticking your ***** in a dove.
Getting married in a church
of Satan.

I went to dunkin donuts
to get some ******* donuts.
A black man yelled at me
so loud that it made me ***.

So I unzipped my pants
and put my ding-**** on a table
then said "beat that ******!"
and he started beating himself while smoking a black and mild with a KFC bucket in his arms full of cow turds.
(I HATE ******* POETRY)

Poetry is the language of love.
No wonder it's full of *******.
Lust is where it's at
when I finger bang your uncle's grandpa's cat.

Randomness is fun
especially when you do crack.
I still ******* hate poetry.
You can **** my 20 foot purple headed yogurt slinger full of tar.

I am Bill Clinton and I approve this message.

8/28/13
Wish I could just say ******* and move on
cause it seems like everything I do, I do wrong,
so I push forward and try to put you behind me
for some reason, you pop up and remind me
of all the good moments, like the bad aint exist
we get cool and it all just happens again
you normal, but i’m going through all this sad **** again,
you treat me like an enemy but leave our status as friends
how about I do my thing, and you just do yours
we both put up a white flag and call off the war
cause at the end of the day what is all for?
We get nothin less, we don’t get nothin more
I hope you can find happiness cause you truly deserve it.
One day you’ll find your match and you two will be perfect
you’ll mature with him and I’ll get older too
and maybe with time i’ll get over you.
i feel like this conversation is long over due
my apologizes for all the tension placed on our friendship
i’ll see you in the future but for now i’ll end this.

Call me twice
By phone to phone
Kickstart again
fill in the noise
Of cars and empty busses
Passing on through ***** streets

And solitude will give you truth
But extravertial dreams pass by  
And The Words pass by
And the ticking clock stops
And the doubts will end
So Stay on the beat
But don't be a fool
Look down
Oh Look down
And turn east towards home
For as the crow flies
You're going on track

So don't loose your head  
With heartbreak rhymes
Or by lonely walks
Or not showing up
Because you don't need it
None of it
All you need is to be you

if I am the frying pan then you are the fire
in a way you’ve always been my gateway drug
[oh her]
and I’ve always been their gateway to you (we have never
really been that similar) if I am the street lights then
you are the stars (you have always made that one
pretty clear)
I am covered in your footprints
your hair kind of looks like mine
spit on my face and we’ll see if I start to look more like you
[oh it’s you]
we were born in hospitals and since then my infant skin
has felt like plastic in your hands
(I’ll sit down in the dirt to see if I can blend in
with what you say you really love) smile and maybe
I’ll remember
what I really love about the grass growing through the sidewalk
(I remember once you told me you would love me
if I could show you where the sidewalk ends)
if I am the bridge then you are the untamed river
I’m sorry if I couldn’t see below my feet but you never bothered
to look up either
you have always been my gunpowder and I
have always been your bastille (whether you are rogue or royalty
has yet to be determined) you have always said
that I was hollow and I held matches in my teeth hoping
it would prove me volatile
[always you two]
I used to think our bones were the same metal but you’d
be the first to tell me yours was forged in a hotter fire
I think
mine will be harder to break (and we will both be melting
for years) if I am holding their hands then
you are bleeding beneath their feet if I stand alone
then you are standing on their shoulders
(I remember you like charcoal on a cave wall
like a name carved in tree bark
there are sets of your fingerprints next to mine all down
the highway
hold my hand against the dirt and we’ll see
if the heat of battle in the blood red riverbank will be enough
to burn this skin from our bones) we are not friends and
we are never going to be strangers (and more than anything
I am sorry for that)
if I am midnight then you are three am
if I am the sun then you are (not the moon)
arcturus
in a way I’ve always been your gateway
in a way you’ve always been my coup de foudre
[oh this again]
in a way your poetry was always my first love

All these kids got
Sweet ***-pics
Of them around campus
After graduation
And all I’ve got
Is this lame *** pic
With me and three double chins.

I shouldn't have said anything.
I should have just wrote something right here.
Now it's all out in the open.
And all I taste is the fear.
I've never felt so livid.
I'm usually rational.
But I feel like shattering everything,
to resemble my tact.
I'm done with zen.
I'm done bottling it up.
I bet my words taste like the ******* IPA,
and I just don't give a ****.
It used to be so easy- to give you a free pass.
You spun me until I was dizzy,
and now I'm on my ***.
But I don't care how ****** I look anymore.
I don't care about how this poem *****.
**** artful stringing of lines.
I just want to make ****** rhymes.
So I can laugh and pity myself later.
For some reason this self deprecation,
is really cooling my temper.
There must be some **** wrong upstairs.
God, I just looked at my phone again.
What I'd give for there to be a fire right now.
And for this disdainful crud to melt away.
Oh sorry, I couldn't respond...
my phone was on ******* fire.
Like my ******* self-respect.
How rich would that be?
Oh, look, I'm angry again.
What I'd give to hitch hike away.
But I think about my student loan debt,
and I guess that makes me decide to stay.
I guess it's time to sleep again.
When I wake up I won't feel a thing.