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.

Living life as a lord,
where death barons are restored.
Oxen, cattle, sheep, logs, ranches
Chickens, hogs in slogs, as my dog dances.

It's not the lord that I am scared...
It's lack of love, lack of health repaired.

Even in the summer time,
hotdogs fall on the floor
The best of us can rest because
We know our dogs will eat them

But I've been at night before
I place that I can't find food
And a ***** hotdog is a treat
But eating dirt is rude

So I pick up my napkin
And pick up my pride and self
I revere the ***** dog,
I would place it on a shelf

But out of way, food does mean nothing
so I garble it instead
because with food I can be something
I can because I am well fed

Glassiness is the hell that's
happened to crack my blood-soaked eyes.

And crass presumptions
hold little hell when gumption is what belies

Belies a holy belly,
Held in hell,
but built upon holly and poison ivy stalks.

Still,
I don't talk about green deals
and I don't care about water.

Not long enough.
Not enough to falter.
Not enough to give an ear.
Not even enough to breath.
Not enough to give a shoulder.
To cry on.
Enough for the earth to see.

The morning after a horror date,

I baked myself a non-denominational celebration cake.


I celebrate being alive.

In spite.

Bedazzled by a bedroom sprite,

I made light of my emotions,

that turned into pig iron and over caustic coke that could never even ever start the driest fire.

After a day filled with intuition,
it's a mission of frog filled fairy tales
loaded on my bar-covered wagon
was bales of hay that was
just once grass in the wind.

While tying flies for winter
I found myself clipping apart
All sorts of animal fragments.

While spreading soil for spring
I found myself smelling of soil
and **** and earth leavings.

While living in life and in summer
I've be encumbered by guilt
the guilt of a creature at ease
but i'm still just a creature
who is allowed to live at
summers eave

While dying in autumn I share
Just because and how that I'm scared.
and dared to go love
and my love sent a shiv.

Only her
for my life
I would spare.

I barge into life like a barrel full of bourbon lit with a beeswax wick.

After starving for four and a half years, I contrived an urban survival technique that only factored in quarters and reeking like *****.

I found several ways to kife away hours of free wifi off of my free smart phone given by the church to help with job searches.

Lucky, I had several minutes to myself to make believe.

Lucky, I was too cold to find time to cry, and grieve about a golden age that'd really only made sense when I engaged in backwards thinking.

Life can stink, and that made me happy; that I held so much in storage, and it'd assuaged away my insecurities in fear.

I used old times like leftovers; to build a porridge of a heart poured over stale soup and beer, and left out, but it'll be the last thing I can find on a life boat to bail me out of bitter makings.

somehow i let a lion live in my room
somehow some beast, some bear for a way to rear its
way out of my broken water closet.
Some how.... some way I have to posit some sort of solution
some way to drown her.
some way to put her down.

I dream about it every night.

I dream about spools of shiny silver string.

I dream about lightning is the music I try to sing.

I know, because I remember, because a lot to me.

I never knew you could see such things when you're eyes don't let you see.

I really don't have the wherewithal to weather all this worrisome ****.

I'm a walking keg of dynamite
Beg me then
I exploded

I'm loaded
It's a sickness bore by drinking
and thinking about the muddy lord

Pages and pages of rock bottom words
Sorting, listing minds on paper
Paperbuilt cages
Crusted now in the tears of men and women
I wanted a weekend of rest
But now after a month of pain I'm awful restless

Let's try to have a friendship dinner
I'll make your favorite food
As long as we find a way to both die
In way we both think feels good

What would happen if the smartest dude you ever knew had gargled half of glass of alkaline work, and half asinine notions?


What would it make?

A potion of well-constructed posited positions based on logic?

Or a self-constructed swamp bewailed in muddy air the had never even shared the point of life and joyment?

Instead the swamp was employed by devils deployed to only stack up and foster self-hatred?

I never knew how to clip the nails that I kept on my fingertips.

In love with how the fingers had lived together, in a lonely way.


I sipped in the pool of tears from whens hearts been cryin'
in an escape, in an ache to find the other way

Escape is gray, great

and it's hurts so bad

Like sickled silver grated on a gravel beast released during my deepest pain.

It took so long to realize.

Killed in silver, was a glass goodbye.

Try it.
Please try.

I wish you would

I bleed.
I bleeded.
And knew it wasn't good.

You held my spine.
High.

They said I should stay in the ground.
It'll be awful *****
Try not to be wordy
And don't be the man we gotta send back.

I'm lacking on motion
And I cause quite a scene.
To be like a bit birdy is to be bloodlisciuos mean.
It'll feel so obscene.
It'll like that I'm dead. That I'm like you.

While digging in my garden I wish that I would find
The hilt of an old dagger and an old ration rind
I wish I had the vigor to feel all the burdened dead
But I don't wish the destiny of those that ride the river red.

I had acknowledged the brevity of placing crystal on the mantelpiece.


I felt so bad, but at least a loss of a crate barrel of peppercorns had released me from the largest form on endangerment.


Relenting,
I, snoozing about in a blanket made of broken trade deals and lackadaisical linens laced into a self hated leaving.


I shiver like a silkworm held against her better judgement.

I'm sealing a lining with my spit because I'm uncertain what will be.

Just say the word.

If world peace depends on me.

If you really want to be funny
Don't have a sense of hate
Take back and don't take

What do you get when you have
when you have two
Englishmen with no donkies?

A pair of assless chaps.

****
It's bad
Let me distill
A drink of fun filled hate

No, no way
With all the scars

It's how you make us wait

Let me be a boy who could
Just find a flooded strand
Instead of finding out how war works
and how to make a stand

Just trust loneliness
Adjust to lust for fear
Loving liars, living with hate
Abate sorries. Create stories
Catharsis is a species
Masochists list pain as love
Have a content look at horrible
and have a terrific funny funeral

Mandibles stroke against a stork on high noon.

I blew a cloud of candles to make us all swoon.


This is very much off putting,
I can see only glass.

It's pudding in central air while you stair at my ***.

I apologize for forgiving how sharp shells can be.

Because I dig  hella deep in ground that I can barely see.

I hate to hold you hostage.

But what I hate less
is that I don't have a life to give,
and my girl woke girl cares even less.

Green lights can turn frost into emerald glass
At last the chill had finally stopped deciding to breeze itself in
So finishing the rearrangement of my furniture became
less of a blustery chore and more an assured
passage into a brand new page
I haven't had the pleasure of having yet.

Fashion.
Razor wire fashion.

Blessed
Brazen-fired blessing

Messed up.
Most, bereft unsure *******.

Fess up.
Make sure we don't lose hope in our unmessing.

Pristine hens,
covered in golden feathers had penned
me a welcome note
to show me where all her, and their eggs were.


... I never stirred in the mornings,
because our rooster was a horror show.

He'd blow out bellows and blankets of snot covered win,
that began to make us feel like sinners for only living.


Still every day...
We'd sit there and lay.
And stay....
and lay.
Every day and every morning.

I'm sorry I wasn't more for you, Sir.
I"m sure you'd rather I were.
But all I am is a chicken, Sir...
Really!!!
That's all I ever really were...

I bragged about salty craggled bits forged in heaven-hell.

Breighed, knelling, in a door of mud,
is okay.
All night!

Until THUD.

Thrash,
he lit up all of our butter soaked popcorn.

I knew I deserved a day of rays of hope.

But NOPE.

Never.

I'm threw.

I blasted threw what you knew and showed it all on all of our state of the art cameras.

Depedent I should be.
For you to show all of me.

How much I was bad,
and how much you real weren't,
how sinful you've been,
and all the bridges you've burnt.

have business,
and show up,
like it really should be,
have hope that we all hate your less
that the goldenglory.

Take a nap,
take time,
take a dime and make a phonecall,
taken down and transcribed,

take it,
please take it please,
take all of what makes me bad,

so in your face I can breath.

Let me breath your lies,
let me stir up a stick.

I'll pick my better losers
and they'll clog up the thick.

The thick in the stickers.
The wishers awash.

The bleek nickle-dimers,
who've aschewed all begotten
dinner diners.

And alchohol sticker states.

Make me feel really bad for felling
how I do,

then I'll feel hate.

Hog-tied and Stolen.
Gone.
By the wayside.
And stolen.

Old little goatheads stuck in my heart.
Little poison *******, shoved in from the very start.

Little boiling *******,
blown in the air by Pompeii.

It only left a visage.
A portrait.
Of me.
And everything I ever wanted to say.

Learning electricity seems like magic to someone like me.
Like learning how to be okay, and to function happily.

I make rivets in my stone steps, and they're all made for steel.
I block love out like shrapnel, I would rather die than have to feel.

I've allowed loudness in my life.
Poor boy.
Poor Chowder.
It's like a firework in a boy's ear.
I'm sorry dude.
I can find a way
To help you
Forget loud noises.
Remember food.

Glass light shines on shattered edges
and hold highly the carbon of stunted beds.

Same ...like...Frosted carbon bits will polish better
and a set of copper arrowheads.

I hate to hate on the dead,
but instead of copper and chrome

why not instead lie in wake for an alloy
to keep you from pain instead?

at least

pretend to be interested.

Because stories aren't as plentiful as squash and strawberries.




the beast

he had entered sideways into a show that'd already started.


at least

the words placed on our family mantle top had showed
that life is a locomotive that will never stop.

sheesh.

aggravation only does little in order to shift
my opinion from one place to another.


wish,

pessimism only places a knackered placard on top of my well earned toothy veneers I had held on layaway.

Yucky,

yack, not ever.

Sorry,

I had no intention of going back.

Let's let our life roll on
Let me feel nothing on
On an awful awning
on our deadly fawn
Sawn on deadly sawings
We should take upon
Upon our own aggressions.
Lessening our loud report
I don't distort her founding
I tried not to report.

But it hurts, it bleeds.
Ape great needly needs.
Lovely bloodly needles
Needing nice nancy ways
Caughted blood can make life thud
It's the only life we need.

I thought of a great idea:
to build candy infrastructure in my on rapture-based town

I frown on the fact of bad feelings
I grumble at her guardian's gate
Because lack of laughing is evil
Of all the things, it's just what I hate

I'll cook a grand dinner of viddles
I swear to God I'll do good
Because even though girl's speak in riddles
I still know that they need food

I used to click stones and rocks together
I pieced apart their worth
I imagined shore from long ago,
I imagined the life upon the shore.

I used to think about my dad,
They're dad too
What he's worth.

What life was life as a citizen,
or a soldier who had to prove his worth.

I am rather happy
that I don't have to be
the sort of child who is beholden to his
father's livery.

Holding, from tearing apart.
A bridge of angels was a pin of crystal air.

A nail made of modest minds
A pin that held what's where.

Even still
hope was what was
and I never had to be.

But sir.
SIR
It all collapsed.
And I can no longer see.

I'm hungry.

I'm not bad.

I'm hungry.

That's why I'm sad.


I'm sorry.


I miss my grandma's tortillas.


I miss breakfast.


I miss her stew.


I miss waking up.



Because she is dead.


But she would make breakfast for you too.

I've eaten fire food.
And read a sad story made of soup.
I remember well the boy who tried to sell me some salt goop.
Good food is good medicine.
It's sinful cake in carrot broth.
It's cheating without cheating.
Showing a story of love and hope.
But if you eat garbage,
Then a ***** of sadness bears on you.
It's a sullen sorry stew.

And unhappiness will not do.

Ever so often, someone sent food, which was good.
My god was it good, so really really good.

Out of every coffin was a sort of reprieve because of that
heap of uneaten rations from the dead who have died.

Died
Died they did.
And now
from they're dead eye's I've hidden my guilt and ridden my gut of the fat that had enacted a deal on the pit of my gullet that'd made me so sorry. To hate all the glory and feel all a sudden so sullen, so sorry, I'm not buying glory.

My Lord makes me hate killers.
Which makes me hate me.
Vinegar is wine in my eyeballs.
It's how the Lord makes me see.

I saw a ******* monster hovering over me in a dream
and I decided it was time for it to die.

And I tried.
I really did.

Instead my Id took hold and sold me out
into slavery.

It's amazing that my freedom sold itself for love.

So now I'm a puppy-dove in a cage made of safety and food.

It affects my mood
in the fact the effects should hurt and now that they do
I'm eschewed of all personal beings.

So seeing myself in the mirror
is the only spirit
I have left.

Don't take it.

Please.

It's all I have left to give.

Licking a leather lollipop made of dog-hide drool.

I never knew a piece of me that would slobber all over dogs.

Pick a pepper in pleasure while pylons pop at all

Is knowing the little weasel who knew where to stop and stall.


Still, the still evens
and I can go to bed.

Because In my heart, I know the road is even.

Regardless, I'll end up dead.

I've learned that being happy
Means how to stay away
From certainty and surliness
Frenetics is my way

I'm learning life won't let me live
in the way I stay away
Causing living life in uncertainty
Can only make you fray

Fraying like lived-in leather
Living in the snow
Life's what makes you shiver
Showing you what you don't know

I think I found a way to wear away my stomach
Corrode my hard built gut lining.

It's easy.

It's just making knots out of string
And it hurts but I kind of like
how much it makes my heart sing.
It's a song I never knew who wrote but
it shakes me.

It's louder than a missile
shot from a fighter jet.
It's a wreckful way to live a life you love.
But it's the self that I respect.

Terse history vibrated through my mind makings

In the fashion of wigged baroques I stoke a fired that filled my hearth

In the dead of night I unearthed true passion from skulls of dead families

It brought me to me knees when I saw silver on their neck

I wrecked coffins with my brain, i stained what life made good

But then I understood
Standing in the rain

I abstained from stealing
From stabbing myself with drugs that I was dealing

Alone in pain, I strained from feeling

I feel the dead, a well read infected sore.
I can feel now, I can adore.

I've found a splendid way to wreck pieces into poison.

It's a leak, awful : kristal nachkt

It's a rock and roll hell show
But leave me living,
although shell shocked

At least into hell that I wont go

Blink.
Blink blink blink like
Light has never cared.
Be scared.
And think think think
GOD
and link together light with love
GOD GOD GOD
Lighten sorden braken broken branches into a
Tree.
Maybe you'll see that it's worth seeing the way dead seas.
If'en loaf of bread feed the flies.
Then I would happy live a soften-short life.
As long as maggots fly
and I can DIE DIE DIE.

Joy jostled just jitters
Kidding, kindness kindled
Lots, lowered lifted, leaving life, leaving love
Missing mindful mana, making mindbreak messes
Nothing nestles, nothing nests, Nothing needs no nowhere
Only owning our own oars, oaring on
People pawn past pieces
Quit quiting, queerly quizing
Row, Row roundly rays round
Softly shade. Sowing softness, sounds slick, so supple
Take timid, take trouble.

Closeted was my emotions.
And even still,
I had posited an emotion
to stop all position and it's my mission
in my life to send my hellhole
that I live in everyday,
the hellhole that I see when I say
that my pain is sent into remission.
Bliss. and blissful buttons had finally
mustered up a wall.
Should I call you now?
Should we finally feel how we really feel?
It's not really who I am.
It's just my stupid deal.
And I dealt and felt about just everything.
Please.
Don't make me sing.

I feel like I've blown my brain to bits
A blitzgrieg of what's left of it
The corpse of a dove I still keep in her cage
It's outrageous the pageant I put on the stage
Softness meets a ******* rampart
Flying in fire air
Blowing me apart

Deluded in a brooding pit, I brewed a bowl of noodles.
Steeping in a steamy ***, with veggies and egg milk
What made me think I should go on what the
lack of sense of ilk...
So sorry for the lack of pay
So sorry I can stay.
Cause the fact that I eat noodles
Means I can't eat gold today.

When the sun comes out again

is when

I plan on calling all everyone,

because by then

everyone will be my friend,

forged over fields of fever posies and possies of angries.


So, please

Grease the wheels of progress by rounding your rough edge

and by doing your best to be and make everything easy.