#dregs
i've heard it said
of friends who can only bare
the weather fair,
that they are better left
in that climate, there
that of all your loves
the ones who don't give up
slog through the ****
all for the prospect
of living it up
that's who you do it for
open your heart
open your arms
open your mind
free the soul
Jun 1, 2021
Jun 1, 2021 at 9:29 PM UTC
who am i to say if the mozzer's lost touch?
what does my rough draft have
that is missing from his manuscript?
nothing. so, i'll sit down here
before the microphone and say,
Aug 8, 2019
Aug 8, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC
all this time, i've yet to come to terms with certain words
for instance, design, and all of its nuance
how do i design in true
when i am a shard of
azure experience in the
endlessness of midnight blue?
all this time, i've yet to call my good form to return
for instance, my designs, and all the nuances --
the water drains, shallow now,
from my composition,
as if i'm the desert, when once,
i was my own oasis.
reflection is a given. still,
how can i reflect this ill
in good faith, when the
poisonous sick saw my
leg up ascend into ruins?
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 1:26 PM UTC
take a poor, fat, spiced chocolate kid
from its welfare house
put it in a program with rich kids,
tell it it can be just like that,
if it learns critical thinking,
logical reasoning, communication,
and problem solving.
can it?
[falls asleep in a dumpster]
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 7:01 PM UTC
this ******* thing came to this:
two brains, sever and split.
two pigs, top of the town,
made marquee marked on the ground!
punctuate!
i'm smothered, but
the fourth wall's
done getting scraped!
version one point one was nothing new,
these scrapes make room for version one point two.
Jul 29, 2019
Jul 29, 2019 at 2:22 AM UTC
shouting
die 2 try?
try n Try
try 2 die
laughing?
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 12:47 AM UTC
that feel when you crawl out of your dumpster, and see your **** neighbor in a bikini at the community cesspool
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 5:23 PM UTC
for all my preparation
this project begins to slip away
what if my great fantasy
hinges on a banal happiness?
the ink of ballpoint pen
takes me as far as sorrow's edges
i confess best to myself
wetness skin to skin, with sweat's sweet and
sour accompaniment is as close to happiness
as i can steer this sinking ship
as of late there's nothing left
of the sweat to cleanse my dead palate
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 11:16 AM UTC
n if you have a clue
pork who watches you move
will be taking notes
this ***** knows how it goes
n if you have a plan
pork who watches you move
will catch it, understand
this ***** is stealing souls
keep it under the knife
surgeon and patient
simultaneously
ship and astronaut
in E.V.A.
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 10:40 AM UTC
i know well the fear as it manifests
in the dampness come night
dollar bills burn hot in pocket
the reddened skin of my inner thighs
fights to fray the cloth, but i
i'm better off sleeping in my pants
and my shoes, as to evade
then this thing clicks and the misfit
cuts come to fall into plan
by design, without fail, buy and sell
then there's me, this thing replete
with confidence in its destruction
by its hand, or on demand, its a
matter of course lightbulb!
Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 12:40 PM UTC
clearly, the days slip past
i nearly lasted, keeping track
tags and descriptions, each one placed
as if a benefit falls upon the lot
for drawing connective lines
god's dead, god's not dead,
i'm god, the god of sand,
ephemera at my command
but what's it mean? these things
take time, but not seriously, because
the sun hits the wax on a paper cup
and it blinds us from the bushes
and so low, can't care
so low, lone, done dead
can't care for upsides
but asides and sideways
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 6:15 PM UTC
The girl on the train is nothing more
Than an illusion, or perhaps a delusion;
What is she, if not the bitter, bitter dregs,
The last of the burnt coffee, gone cold,
The watered down scrapings off the bottom
Of the cup we call life?
Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 7:54 AM UTC
Falling in line with the rest
Forgetting that life owes nothing
Knowing better, yet, still being dragged to the dregs of humanity
Weighted by words, chained to emotion
Drowning in doubt, scraping across broken standards
Settling into the remnants of the wasted dreams of a people
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 10:17 AM UTC