I bet I bet I bet
Yeah...
I know.
I know.
I know.

Not much here.
But I regret.
So...
So.
So
I said it.

How in the hell did you get so furry?

Well, I think it's just who I am..


How did you feel so bad then?
It's just my answer, ma'am
It's just the feeling that I feel I see folks feel bad

But it's not your answer...

I know but it makes me mad.

Globs of scraggy oogle blorck
Cracked in ebbs of nibble naps

Scrapped in cork and oggled mek

Gorged of mega noogle neck.

Goodness goodness goodnessbuilt
I let a longb= built chapel
Long stood and let it see
Like a favor
Like a lich
That wont die wont die wont die

Like fever in a pit
wont try wont try wont try

I write my words a warrior
Gladly like gladiator in a galaxy of thought
that's throught with folks that's think they're worthy
and they deserve a spot.
So try me try me try me.
I may be soft when I'm at bay.
But try to cut my throat and
then you'll see the light of day.

Let me see if I can find it
The burden in the tree
The bird that stole my heart
and took my soul from me

"Hey!"
"I hope you have had a wonderful morning!"
"I'm your milk dude"
"Yes ma'am, I'm apart of the diamond package."

"Yes, MA'AM! Yes we do... but the residue you find around
the corner of your bed is due to all the
fat Sedona sand skitters."

Yeah... yes ma'am. They ruin the land with their compostable cat litter"

It's a pity to ****** about,
so I rerouted my question.

"Umm... I came here to learn a lesson about life and love, and every little bit held in between."

"Okay, well you'll have to turn in, because there is a lot of sinful fog in the air, so maybe it's time to repair what we can and have time for."

Somehow while I'm out in the snow I've learned of how snow ages
Somewhere on a page of an ancient book I learned names of all the Stages

More often I've had hoarfrost
and ever had ended in a graupel.

After anything. Anybody.
Assuaged about all anger.
Anything! Anytime!
and after all, anybody.
Anything.
About anger.
About apathy
About all agape anger, aged about angst.
After anything afterall.
All.
Anything.
About anything.
About anybody.
Always.
And Always.

I was really mad today
so I mashed a hellhole I had made into an internet message.

So I had envisioned a visage of ******* and poachers
that had stoked a fire made of
fair trade coffee grounds and mounds
of unmanaged bullets that are still
held hostage for melting a hellhole into a business.

I pretty sure I found some bugs in my pirate ship
Earwigs and some roaches are brimming at the hip
Sure it turns out would should have saved a lot more food
Because we are not the only life the lord determined good

So now I build a fire made out of barrel scraps
The whisky makes it higher and our work it does entrap

So give me a glass
a glass of water
I can only sip
I'm bare rehydrated
On the trip
On this pirate ship

A bug pressed upon my leg.

A bit of frozen plantain had stuck my knee.


I froze a hair of against all of the pretty girls.

I boiled all of my hell so there was no stew that they could stir.

Back when I was eight, every friday we would have

our own little holidays.

Filled with pizza, too much soda and locally rented games.

Even still, as it was
there still was an occasion

Sometimes, mostly on weeks when
my dad had ideas that would engage us to
toss away our pizza,
and all our nintendo games

We would get chinese food.

And that was all the same to us
as having a vacation
We didn't have brains to think
That it's ONLY chinese food.

That's not how we would think
Me and my little, and my older brother would
freak out at 6 at night
When the mom and dad came home from errands
with boxes written in a language we couldn't write.

All we were was indians.
All I knew was stew
We weren't dirt poor but even still
Egg drop soup was something new.

Holy hell, i loved chow mein
I smothered my riced with hot mustard
Even though I was only nine, i knew was divinity was.
It was eggrolls, fortunes cookies, and my newfound MSG buzz.

I've been pulling chunks of snow and ice
out of my dogs toes
I've greased his paws, checked his maw
and evaluated the wetness of his nose

Requiring snacks and tennis *****
Fetching in a field
What a fetching wielder
of a happy heart
He'll stay when I have him heeled
How often he softens sullen hearts
and makes a sappy heart healed.

Into it, light up on the world, she crested on mountain edges, bound barriers likened her to a sage in old legends.

Still, there it was, all night.
And there I was within sight of her.
And it was like there was a  pleasant air about the bar.
Everyone was friendly here.
Some people, in friendly ways, kindly kept their distance.
It was even, warming buffers.
Noise and those smiles that seem to adore two talking.
Set pace, even in the next space the volume was for being a part of one another.

What you think of your life is Hercules when you remain
untween bread.
But what you are is a heretic,
when when you choose life, live instead.

Bugs
Little bitty bugs
With itty bitty legs

Hugs
Tiny widdle hugs
wrap around my legs
and it bugs me

Shrugs
Teeny bugs
Itty Widdle mugs
Smile and wave
at me

Tugs
Tug at my heart it does
Tugging
Holding on my pants
Grabbing the cloth
gathered at my knees.

Bugs.
Little bitty bugs
Biting at my shins
I begin a life of hope
But sins had shaped my hair
So I lugged in a soap opera chair

And I sat.
And I stared.

Dry hugs held in hope
Fried hope crisped the open air.
Listen, missed is open air. held in an open trope.

Godly.
Think of then.
What is the odd end of Godly hoards.
Offored with erreverence in the sanction of Lords wards.

It's not like life's worthless.
But a purple without dew.
could bring ashame and worthlessness
as long as there's nothing you won't do.

I built a greasy rafter aftershow to embloden my favorite actors.

I stand rainbows in corners fired about in brick-a-brack cookies.

It's morbid.

AND funny...



And they look at me like I'm more funny than they are.

And if I am?

What **?

Should I resend myself?

Dive in a bar?


Never.

I have a way to get by.

Get by in life.
Sorry, so do you.

We can burn up.
Or we can end up in a hedonistic stew,
after spending our lives melting, and doing out best,
doing our best to live a fun life, then wind up in a vat.

To live all day and make your best,
only to wind up into a battered smoked-out whiskey barrel.

A junk food vat.
Cake with nutrients.

Very 'not sterile.'

Caulked and sauntered in a evercornered in a vat of sugar goo.

I had a huge *** of sugar water boiling overnight.

After several days, the police knocked on my door

for several nights to ask if I was alright.



I wasn't, of course.

But what could be said?


They didn't care.

They were just concerned if I was dead.

Jeez.
I'm salted and run about.

Please.
God I'm all fallen out.

Really.
I'm all sort of problems still.

Ease.
Just let me bleed out

Freedom.
God, just let me go.

Grease.
Ooze me out of a freedom that I don't know.

I read and study history
Almost every day
Like watching children have to learn
Learning how to play

History is how we know
Just what, and who we are
History is what we show
What we think is on par

Just because because it's happened
And just because it nests
Just because horror can happen
Doesn't mean feel bad, please don't rest.

History is our mother
And our father too
Life left in a basket
Is a foot without a shoe.

I'd decide to liberate, and decriminalize my *******, but no one seemed to care.

I've always had honkin' *******, and they made a lot of people stare.

Soaked white shirts don't hide honkin' ******* on fat boys at the pool.

But my ******* don't make the headlines because they don't make layman drool.

I bought a bundle of clotted cream out of the clearance basket
located all the way in the back of my local grocery store.

I muddled a bit of leftover herbs in a mortar,
making it into a poultice sort of good I rub on all my sores.

The more I make fire,
the more ash I'm left with.

I poured salted water on the fires,
steam showed up in the air.

More minerals caked on rocks.
Pock marks of sour crusty cake.

Four years of dry seasons
left layers of life loving salt in a dead lake.

I'm cracking,
Breaking eggs out on the salt flats.
Making flavor out of rocks.

Judgement. Guilt, Flirty
Those bases are begrudgingly
Logy, lackadaisical  pace
Send tracers out of guns
What fun can feel when I steal all my light from my dear sun

Moaning is a miter saw
Sawing on my face
Mooning is like cortisol
Doping me to win the race

I told them I'm a was a boxer
Working graveyards for Federal Express
Lessening my emotions
Chewing tobacco in excess

Salt can smelt on you
And take your taste
Make it much better
Like colored dye on gray wool
that is made into a sweater.

Stumbling blubber-bees have fountains of fat.

I fumbled on ******-knees to make sense of all that.

Pretending I love the oceans of chubbies
is like making a seal out of our patience for blubberies.

Fat floats on our oceans,
we know all of that.

It floats on our oceans,
It floats out at sea.

But if I want a gold metal,
obese is what I can't be.

Let's pretend I'm happy

Let's pretend that's right.


So.


That's not enough.
It's not enough.
Resources and polemic strife.

So.
Then.
Let's pretend I love you.
I don't.
But that's ok.

Only because has to be, because.

You make me.
Papa bear.
You'll make me rot my knee.

I love the sound of birds when I walk out the door
Early in the morning, it's what I adore
Worrying and seeming like I give a ****
So I act silly and so seeming, I am a big ham

Having heart is hurtful
But it can feel good
Asserting is a virtue
It's how I'm understood

I held my tongue.
As often as I could.
While dating the skinny-faced girl.

Sure.
When she twirled me around,
I found myself out of my own head.

And
Sure.
Even when she was found dead,
in the comfort of the bed,
in that house of hers,
doused with secrets and drug-fueled murmurs.

It's stirred something deep down inside.
Whirred up all of my hiding hidden emotions.

Sure.
Sowed.
And show how action over devotion
determines who's actually in charge.

Ugh.
So I barged into my mildew-made storage unit.
And I used it to plop down
And sit.
And see.
On a concrete floor.
With nothin.
Just me.
and I mangled me.
Exsanguinated.
Strangled.
With bloodshot eyes.
Enough.
Enough to manage to see how
hate
and hard hell
can create an icecold shell
over everything I ever wanted to be.

I made a point to poke a pinhole in the shade
to let a little light in.
How honest hearts hate home
Lonely, living life like little lizards
under a dome
under a rock
How I wish the garish light and wind would
Delight me by dowsing me in a dirt devil.
Locked in a replica of life
I'm ******. I'm ******.
My equal is a little homunculus
Clue me into why I try to live alone in a stone home
Humming as I cry. I don't ask why.
Lizards aren't for me. I'm a birdie that can't fly.

Just because I don't care about you
Doesn't mean I don't care about your life.

Just because I don't think about you
Doesn't mean I've forgot about you

Just because I would rather not remember you
Doesn't mean that I don't remember  you

Just because I hate you
Doesn't mean that I don't love you.

Things didn't break

They just kind of fell apart
I have the pieces piled in a corner

I can put it back together whenever I want
But it I like the way this looks
I like it better this way

Bach likened hope to god
Lauding in laurels like a living legend
He's dead, real dead, it's odd
Oddly deadly ditties
Harp on hope and mindful mitigation
Irrigation sows such sounds in fields
Of hearts who can't be found
Fiddled at a clavichord
Fixated on a face
Looking at her clavicle
With music
Sweetness can erase
Erasing dubious dealings
Let them leave my face
I need to forget the girl
Forget my heart and race

Serious sticky sugar heat
Baited me when I hated that pretty girl.

Crazy, I dug so deep
Doubt tip-high nights with a facade of trust.

Busting through a shroud of hell,
you made,
and hid,
cuz you're such a sharp gal.

And we both found it when we found ourselves
in a ***** bottle after a night of happy chances.

After flirty advances,
a shell ripped off my legs.

I sign that I was just another,
One of your nicely sculpted dregs.

Immediately, really,
I'll shut up.

I dug 6 graves 1 foot deep

For cupcakes that I make

I keep making them, even though the holes get steep.

I cup my makings into cardboard cartons
and I started marking little messages in my cupcake pardons.

Caverned in a cage, a cave
were mountains of stable shelf food along with baskets.
Baskets filled with food and horrid stories buried among the bits.
That shrapnel, that ****, that little bit of metal that finds a way.
Finds a way to stay lodged in my spinal column.
Laudnaumn is a painkiller
a time spent life spiller that'll take upon you strife and the life of a soldier most totally taken, spaken and spat, with lack of fine skills,
no skin to donate, no porridge to impregnate my brittle bitter being.
Now i'm saught after, and it's now that I'm seeing.

Suddenly so sullen. I shave a bed of sully folks
Stoking fires made of poision
was not the tradition of my old folks..


So, it had to had to happen sullenly
Fire on the flame
I could not hate so sullenly
Humans I could not abstain

but it to it, came life stitiches
Leaving love life in  a bag
I may have life, but stitches
but still i'm just a stag.
A bitter leavened heavy heart but still i'm just a boy
I cannot lead anything
I'm hungry boy toy

I found a man on the ground soaked in water life
Living with hungry brown bears in his brain.
He asked if I ever had felt what love a wife can give.

And I said I wish I never had. It's bad.
And I hate how much I hate her.
It's not what she deserves.
She was my most favorite and it's not what she deserves.
I Left her in a desert with dry hope and dead love.
My beloved left me because I killed her heart, the dove.

I love you. Liberal party.
I'm ok. I will fight back.
Ban me, I don't care.
I just enjoy being a **** head.

It's nice.
Thank you for the opportunity.
Have a wonderful evening/

While I made a batch of tortillas,
in the heaving air, a steam from my heavy ***
I thought there would aught to be a feeling made heavy
from students of flavor and feeling.
Wrapped up in husks and disposed of from dealings of life.

Like lead and lemon, mixed with hell, I dispelled how I felt.

And selled all hell had built up for me
Now I'm left all with *** knees and trees can't even make fruit.

Some would call it absolute, destute.

It's a gal
Glaring in the light
Like a mountain with some snow

It's blaring
Like a light
It's scary
God I hate what's right

It's staring
Into me
It's blaring cacophony

It's a bear
It's broke
It's a fire
I won't stoke

It's there
And there it is
It's right, so wrong, so is
What's I'm doing difficult?

Canned in bags
Lacking. Lags.
Stupid stags.
So silly is this drag.

I should just get breakfast
Break away from me.
Breaking from the sorry soul
So such is being free.

Still what I had wanted had finally happened
Way up high upon a hill

Finally my eyes can dry a little more
And I can feel

Joy is just above
Lit by a fire dove

Let light hold a higher being.

For real!

I'm not worth seeing.
But maybe my ideas might be.

I mention cost pretension
Ten
About ten I've had so far.

Like a gooses on a lake.
Like a lot of angry geese.
I've leased you hard felt portions.
In giving, I made it least.

Lasting on so little.
Like liver in a bag.
Bleeding onto to my friends.
I am such a drag.

But I won't belittle being
But about who I won't know
Knowing is a feeling
A feeling I feel, won't show

I dug a deep hole
to hold up a fence post today.

Held up with hardened mud
Was a re-bar
maze of cringes and shudders.

Concrete.
In stolen, steely kindred, killmonger, kinds of
courtship killings.

Let me make sure
that all my heart-spillings
is anything but truth.

Shove off,
and behoove
who should, whenever
they would
make a mind a sinful ocean-built
souls assuaged and sure of notions
held near the hilt
of our poison-bit dagger.

Lagging. And lacking
in age.
It's just a turn.
A turn of the page,
of the story of long-lived life.

I've written my prayers on a piece paper
kept in abalone shell.

I've written my fears on human fingers
and I use them for my spells.

I've written one and one half
how to feel as well.

And I'm smitten by the fact and thought
that burning love can dig my well.

A poison well for poison people,
that no one wants to drink.

I poisoned only evil people
and my well is where they drink.

Passed on, passed over.
Held in tupperware were all of my leftovers
And everything else was kept in an envelope.

Half shown, and half covered.
I'd blown off all of my friends,
and I shove my lonely self in a shower.
It had empowered a bitter pitiful boy
to finally say how much he enjoys being alive.

I'm a chewed up, contrived overworked
salad-piece made of charcoal and avarice.
It would have been nice to be plane
and just see what every one else sees.
But that's not me.
It's a version of myself I don't ever plan to be.

Boughs of plasticine
built on my mind
a line of obscene edges
combed out on
needle built
lines
grinded
into
a
line
on decent
course. leg with real
emotions that weren't out sourced.