When I was younger
drugs were something I wanted to do
and as I grew older
drugs became something to do
and as I grew even older
drugs became something I had to do
and now
drugs are something I used to do.

Some things are just meant to be
but they’re also meant to have been.

Fall becomes Winter.
Time changes. Time rearranges.
Each season provides its own challenge.

A shaving becomes a beard.
The snow falls. The snow piles.
Snowballs gain momentum and grow.

A scratch becomes an ache.
I can't breathe. I can't swallow.
I won't last long but this will last forever.

The cold becomes pneumonia.
I have coughing fits. I have blockage.
Phlegm builds an island to be marooned upon.

Habitation becomes hibernation.
The animals escape. The animals sleep.
They wait for the light to shine on them once more.

Mitigation becomes migration.
The birds fly away. The birds fly South.
As they flee their wings push cold air down toward us.

Winter becomes Spring.
I have become someone else.
A man who has felt another Winter.

Most Christians don’t like Slayer
They say it isn’t Christian music
They say it’s irredeemably flawed
Because it goes against God
But I believe all music can be seen as religious music
God created those artists and their environment
And their art is a way of expressing the result of that
By sharing what’s on their mind
For religious people to change those minds
They must understand those minds
And find appreciation for the secular culture
To ask one side to change significantly
And not change yourself at all
Doesn’t seem symbiotic
Yet the religious stay purposefully oblivious
In order to not have their faith challenged
Because they think without it they’d be hideous
Caught in predatory atheist talons
So they sing their own hymns
And follow their own whims
And wonder why people can’t relate to their culture
Because they seem like disconnected vultures
Preying on the weak
And those in defeat
For a money deplete
To those on the other side
It’s the evil elite
Sending the other for a ride
The two never meet
And just believe all the lies

The internet is a powerful tool
Dictators channel it to rule
While children use it to fool
All in the same pool
Of nightmare fuel
Where we act cruel

The evolution of memes
And online games
Shows us our flame
Is a repetitive shame
When our simple brain
Can only handle the same

Lit cigarette
Met internet
Now cinder lets
Tinder get
Winter set
Until our breath
Smells of death

Light bulbs flickering
In electronic bickering
For tectonic snickering
Causing toxic differing
From an ox-like misery
Of a boxed light mystery
Of who's on the other side
Of our digital divide

CGI
Seedy eyes
Seeding lies
Feeding flies
Crafted cries
Acting wise
Impacting our lives
By distracting our ties
With diss tracking guys
And fists that fly
And potential brides
As long as we abide
And glide
In their ride

Bruising love
Cruising dove
Using the
Electrical electoral
College knowledge
To their advantage
Collecting the edge
They use to hedge
Pushing to the ledge
The values we pledge

Our free-for-all mentality
Receives digital vitality
As our cynical malady
Creates an extension cord
Leading to detention for
Unmentioned ******
Who're met then scorned
Then accept that ****
Is a way to conform
To the attention storm
That leaves us torn
And forlorn

Content formation
Condensation
Maturation
Indicates inflation
From TV stations
Expanding
What fans see
What's landing
Like money vultures
Diluting pop culture
With Ann Coulter
Hatred's soldiers
Are society's molders
So things get colder
Until our only common language
Is anguish

The website junction
Fight might function
As a buck-skinned
Must-win
Ghostly gust wind
Into a dust bin
Of adjustment
To a judgement
By the anonymous
Applauded fuss
Of the concussed
Blunderbuss
Before us
A chorus
Adorns us
With more cuts

The saturation
Medication
Destination
Hasn't met creation
For our sequestration
Has the weak sensation
Of our deep impatience
So we seek stimulations
By repeating simulations
Of reading invocations
Of defeating immolation

The power grid
Power did
Power id
As flowers hid
Towered in
A coward's win
Empowered grin
Of a sour sin
Dour din

We live in a pedantic
Tantric
Environment frantic
Yelling at one another over frivolous nonsense
Then once we speak of things that matter
We do it in our familiar reductive chatter
Making complications flatter
And differences fatter
We must climb a ladder
Above the mindless clatter

The internet is humanity's brain
Why must we fill it with pain?

Vultures draw circles in the sky
tracing the paths we run
concentric predatory perimeters
paralyze prey with peril
ping pong eyes pogo up and down
trying to detect fine print consignment.

Squirrels keep their head on a swivel
tightrope walking on telephone lines
or traveling along the branches in canopies
avoiding the ground with suspicion
of sentinel snakes slithering in the soil.

A contract is written in a newborn calf
standing up and beginning to graze
innately aware of wolf rescissions
and tornado trials.

Cephalopod ink spills on the page
tyrosinase blinds the opponent
suffocating in a dark cloud
while the octopus escapes
to grow into a Kraken form.

So eyes dart back and forth
reading back the record
of a jungle mentality
wandering high
to avoid predators below
and an ocean turning black.

I enter this world
With fists curled
And eyebrows furled

During this life
I dodge the knife
Like a noble knight
Of a modern plight

The task from above
Orders ask for love
But push and shove
Cause awkward hugs

My wish is bliss
But fists are dished
And my only kiss
Is the one I missed

Time keeps dwindling
Like burning kindling
That’s life riddling

My bullet train
Skull of shame
Full of pain
Bullish brain
Bulls through lanes
With road rage
Until old age
Is my cold cage

A piercing dog whistle
Shoots like a thought missile
Through the bog thistle
Signaling my dismissal

Through the trees
I see the forest freeze
And the lifeless bees
Pile into a sea

I’m sincerely done
With their imperium
Tired of hearing them
Through my delirium

I crash and burn
Like an ashen bird
With no rebirth

I slip away
Into a grave
Where I’ll stay
Can’t press replay
On a lifetime delayed

People on my paper
Taper
From my eraser
For I’m safer
Avoiding their paper cuts
In my lonely rut
As a homely nut
Who’s doors are shut

My notebook
Notes looks
To quote crooks
Who float hooks
To trick innocent fish
To do as they wish
Because I want bliss
I write down their list
Of how to make mist

Receipts
Of deceit
For defeat
At my feet
Are blank sheets
With no signature
Because I’m immature
And don’t admit I hurt

The world keeps turning
As textbooks are burning
So I’m incapable of learning
Why those who spurn me
Put me on gurneys

The stationery
Stated the scary
Apothecary
That makes us weary
Was the way to parry
The judges staring
At my pages tearing
From my burden bearing
Attempts at caring

But the judges became more imposing
My life they were hosing
Constantly nosing
Sympathy posing
Secretly hoping
A shotgun loading
Equaled my foreboding

Then through the papyrus
I saw your iris
Infecting virus
Distracting from the pain
Of the words on the page
Calming my rage
Like a sobering mage

But a paper ***
Playing God
Knowing odds
Said I’m flawed
Sending an origami
Tsunami
Upon me
With a piece of parchment
Showing where my heart went
How plainly evident
I wasn’t heaven sent

The text
Said ***
Was next
So I flexed
Which indexed
My intentions
As extensions
Of *** tension

My lousy excuse
Of a paper noose
That was obtuse
Cut you loose
After my poor example
Of a newspaper scandal
Making our fire burn ample
Incinerated our paper candle

I decide not to stay
Through this paper mache
Facsimile fray
Dominion grave
So a road I pave
With paper plates
For the wasteful fate
Of an empty slate

Through days I’m wading
Calendar fading
Ink degrading
The endless waiting
As my head is deflating
Because my construction paper
Always becomes obstruction vapor
So I become a substance faker
Loveless taker

Only when I finish my paper route
Will I see that my shameful doubt
Kept me out
Of record books
For I was shook
And my eraser took
The writing off the page
As I die of old age

This week I want to be a rapper
so enjoy me repeating what everyone else says
as I resume my desperate journey for clout:
I come from the place I was born in
it made me tougher due to being a violent environment
stemming from socioeconomic conditions that continue to be neglected
but even though people born in these conditions usually end up poor
I did not because I'm a special individual
who admittedly sold drugs in the past
but now I have legitimate revenue streams
and thus no longer have to sell drugs
and can still buy plenty of expensive commodities
like cars and shoes and jewelry
so of course the combination
of my new worth and the public's awareness of me
leads to a plethora of opportunities for ****** *******
which is a lot of fun
like the drugs I do if I so choose
because my insulated social circle
condones and supports such activities
but there are people who don't appreciate my modality
you may or may not be one of them
but I don't care what you think (as long as you're listening)
because I believe your opinion is affected
by your jealousy of my material possessions and lifestyle
which I don't think is fair because you aren't aware
of the totality of my experience
or how my financial success is equivalent
to the amount of labor I produced
therefore I choose to disregard your negative opinion henceforward
because I'm compelled to follow my own determination
for what's suitable for me
which is rapping about hopping out the 'rari
and how you can't play me like Atari
over trap drums and magnums
you can't hear me say I'm sorry.

I wake up in the morning
To thunderclouds forming
Afraid of future storming
I live my life forlornly

My life is like whiskey in the jar
It doesn’t have to go very far
To be turned into ****
After the mark I miss
It’s the dark I kiss

I’m Mister Useless
With a blistered bruised wrist
Getting slapped with a ruler by the ruler
Which is an anger fueler
So I don’t want another
Which is why I can’t find a lover

I’m trash
I’m garbage
I’m collapsed
And tarnished

Today was a day
But I threw it all away
Like a bullet in the fray
I feel the fullest when I stray
So I cram my gullet with dismay

It’s undeniable
That I’m unreliable
My company isn’t viable
So I lay in a silent hole
While I’m sleeping
The reaper is reaping
And the keeper is keeping
Happiness from those weeping

I didn’t learn anything new
After I learned to lose
And blame the Jews
As my bigotry grew
I accepted easy answers
About those I don’t like
I say they’re sinful cancer
And I’m always right

I become extremely hateful
Yet expect people to like me
When I’m constantly distasteful
They just want to fight me
Which I say is beneath me
Because victory is unlikely
I’d probably catch a beating
From God trying to smite me

All I want is sympathy
Not to see things differently
Because no one interests me
Because I’m never listening
I live my life in a crate
So they must carry my weight
So I can carry my hate
While I constantly deflate
And underrate
Anything great

I feel so lonely
Won’t someone hold me
While I treat them coldly?

Two men square up
in an octagon
they circle each other
they try angles
to find the wrecked angle
to reach the top of the pyramid
for a diamond reward
to make life on this sphere bearable
because deep down in our dome we know
we preach the Holy Triangle
but ignore the lessons of the cross
hope takes the shape of its negative container
which is half empty so we’re always divided by two
the octagon mentality is reflected in the Pentagon
people fill rectangular plots in the ground
while others profit from manufacturing projectile cylinders
hiding behind stars and stripes
while we fight one another with dollar signs
in the eyes ovals stream from
we see the trapezoid we’ve built for ourselves
where our circular lives take the shape of a fist.

I committed a crime against the state
I effected the money oligarchs make
So they send me away to deflate
Inside a prison estate

The punishment of prison isn’t enough
They want my life to be extremely tough
So they take an unknown parasitic bug
And inject it into my blood

They don’t care what it does or where it goes
Because the main goal
Is that it’s painful
To satiate the disdainful

So I’m stuck in this prison
Because of our decisions
I have a parasitic incision
That starts blurring my vision

In prison I see things bleakly
And my eyes start leaking
On the verge of weeping
Until the bug starts speaking
Telling me not to show weakness
Because I’ll just sleep less
If I display any meekness
I’ll surely reach death

The parasite replaces my eyes
With its own advice
Of not acting nice
And being cold as ice
As it crawls through my skin
Teaching ways to win
That are quite grim
And mortal sins

The parasite tells me the only way to survive
Is to create an environment where evil thrives
So I start sharpening shanks
Like the military manufacturing tanks
Stockpiling my weapons
While I live in deception
Hiding my deviousness from the guards
Whose giant targe
Gives vibrant scars
Behind prison bars

They put me in solitary confinement
For my humble consignment
But my bumbling mind went
Following my blind pet
Telling me to keep fighting
In this tiny room without lighting
It’s the only way to feel lively
When I know I’m slowly dying

The bug says I’m weak
The bug says I’m lonely
So I desperately seek
A way for people to know me
So I spread my **** on the wall
Looking for an officer to brawl
Once the extraction team is called
I don’t feel so small

In a prison of concrete and resentment
I’m drowning in indefinite detention
Which was the intention
Of this sadistic invention
But they forgot to mention
That innocent people end up here
I barbarically **** to inmate cheers
Feeling only hate and fear
The parasite enters their ear

I live in my filth
Making flowers wilt
With the stench I built
Until my life tilts

I meet someone
And have some fun
But once I’m done
Their scent can stun

Our game of anything goes
Gets lodged in my nose
Until I’ve completely froze
Thinking of the path I chose

Long after ***
I can smell their mess
From a cologne flex
Becoming my hex

The sepulcher scent
Of their sulfur vent
Is where I sadly went
For a companion to rent

The foul smell
Of this towered well
Traps me in hell
With its noxious spell

I’m reminded of my decision
By the stench’s incision
Which seems like derision
Preferable to loneliness envisioned

I yearn to be number
After my returning lover
Smells like burning rubber
So I just turn to another

When they’re unfit
I can smell their ****
In an aromatic blitz
Nullifying my wit

Through kisses and licks
Their scent sticks
Quite thick
As the clock ticks

Through the calendar
I smell no lavender
Just the scavengers
Who are crag senders

They try to banish me
But instead of vanishing
I block my nose handily
And continue my caroling

My mouth sings
As a new day brings
A triumphant spring
Meant for kings

Once I’m in a different state
Their scent dissipates
After I let go of hate
And accept their traits

Definitions aren’t meant to fully convey
the meanings of words
in all their complexities and nuances

definitions operate as hints
to help us with a starting point
and as we become more familiar with terms
new functions and usages become apparent
until those words are added to our lexicon

like our conversations with one another
each conversation adding definition
to our understanding of the other’s existence.

A kerosene
Pharaoh leans
On barreled dreams
With feral teams
Using gasoline
To mask the screams
Of the last to breathe
On the path he weaves

His petrol
Gets sold
To fretful
Death droves
Chaos enfolds
Compounding tenfold
In this hell we’re stenciled

They’re fighting over a commodity
Using false dichotomies
Haughtily
Making others duel
Over fossil fuel
To say who rules
Which seems cruel
So they fill textbooks with lies
And put a gun in my hand
If I give a vexed look I’ll die
So I give in to their demands

I’m too blind to see
The refinery
Assigned to me
Is designed to be
The life I lead
For lies of greed
Making the sky bleed

We shoot chemicals into the sky
And deep into the ground
Never stopping to ask why
We hear a rumbling sound
And all the animals around
Have turned upside down

Getting oil
Is deadly toil
But not for the royal
Who’ve never touched soil
They’re too busy trying to foil
Anyone trying to save the planet
Anyone trying to use compassion
The prison door they slam it
Saying we don’t have enough rations

I become a head nodder
Eating lead fodder
As a pet otter
Clapping for treats
In shameless defeat
For the ruling elite
On a shrinking iceberg
Showing what my life earned

We met in middle school
And you helped this riddled fool
Through my little duels
Becoming an indispensable tool
As a burden carrying mule
But you recently found someone more important
And I feel I can’t afford it
So I want you to abort it
Or them to be deported

You attempt to shield
The way I feel
With a third wheel appeal
But I need the whole deal
To stay on an even keel

We have so much history
So it’s a total mystery
Why they claim victory
When they seem sick to me
But you’re not picking me
Even though we connected as kids
You now want to get rid
Of all that we did
On another’s bid
I see my stock slid
Down your priority grid

I explain it’s up to us
To stop the succubus
But you say I must
Quit my fuss
Before I bust
Your friendly trust

It hurts my sense of pride
When I feel I’m defied
So I make you decide
And you choose the less aggressive side
Creating a divide
As I run and hide
From a newcomer’s stride

Treat me like I’m royal
Or be branded disloyal
Your relations I’ll foil
With malicious toil
Becoming angry and bitter
Of new additions to our litter
Exclaiming they slither
While I rapidly wither

Why does this bother me so much?
When did you become my crutch?
How did I fall
Into a pit so banal?
Do you want me around?
Because to you I’m bound
Hearing your glorious sounds
Makes my heart pound
So I feel like I’ve drowned
When you’re not in town
And I travel an empty path
After doing the toxic math
Of your subtraction wrath

I wanted you selfishly for myself
Which wasn’t good for your health
So you set me on the shelf
Because I never knelt
Or weathered welts
Of humility
Now jealousy is filling me
And I let it willingly
So you’re the one billing me
By slowly killing me
With correction
Through rejection
Going a new direction
Beyond my detection
Away from the detention
Of my arrogant prevention
Of your social ascension
Which was my intention
To hold all your attention

So now I’m all alone
I probably deserve it
Our friendship had grown
I should’ve preserved it
But somehow reversed it
Because I’m so worthless
And value you so highly
Yet I refused co-signing
Treaties you were writing
I wrote off as whining
And now I am finding
Loneliness binding

I had a boyfriend with a mental illness
his name was Mental Illness.

Smile of shiny white enamel
radiant down to the dentin

sprinkling ******* on skinny brown blunts
drowned in Kentucky bourbon

fluorescent tubes encased in the ceiling
are fixated above candlelit chandeliers

during the storm the thunder seems like ripples
from lightning bolts that have already struck

trees are split in two (never equally)
a fire lies in the part that is one

the forest floor is filled with fallen trees and dead leaves
ashes fertilize survivors for growth.

Mangled by a gang of doppelgangers
the gangly are ganked by the gander

making advancements in cloning from advancements in clothing
and discoveries made through jean manipulation

facsimiles of progress betray judgement
a hamster wheel is made from a barrel of Kentucky bourbon

two hamsters run in opposite directions, butting heads
until they're teeth are chipped—down to the dentin.

There exists an area between hurt and healed called scarred
it's a place that isn't found—but revealed
tectonic plates protecting the core
my vibrating feet split the earth
forming my fault of separation
passive plains give way to cliffs and valleys
your seismograph detected  tremors
so you escaped to safer ground
outside my sightline from inside the trench emerging
memories are all I need to dig deeper
so remembrance goes through a grainy filter
glorifying the other side of my grave of grime
engendering assumptions of purity lying
beyond the fresh dirt door
where the undead hold their light sticks and disco *****
creating light without illumination
I stumble into them like a moth at night
bumping into the last vestiges of light
they say multiplying two negatives equals a positive
but this whole keeps going deeper
we just acclimate to the depths
making a competition of going furthest down
excavating our descent by expanding the division in the land
until magma erupts
lighting the voluminous pit
revealing the hell we've dug
trickster shadows dance along the sides
hypnotizing the feral demons staring
slack-jawed at the empty canvas of the cave walls
attributing the beauty of what they've missed to ghosts
telling ourselves our horns make us unique
until the lava starts burning us
as a reminder of humanity
continuation ensures incineration
yet this cavern has become my home
after convincing myself I belong here
so everybody hysterically huddles together
to protect themselves from the consequences
oozing from the pressurized center
I squeeze to fit into the middle of the crowd
putting bodies between myself and the nothingness that awaits
watching fellow spelunkers burn
while hoping the inevitable doesn't reach me
the liquid flame consumes my carcass
there's so many directions to fling the fire in
but I benignly accept my fate
knowing this is all my fault.

I live in a trailer I work in a trailer
commuting to work trailing
trailers making me late
so I'm given a trailer for trailers
and stew in my hate
packed with trailers packing trailers
under trailers who think they're jailers.

If I could meet the tailor of these trailers
I'd regale Her with all of their failures
and how they're like Vlad the Impaler
but there are no saviors only slavers
telling me I can hit the trail
and give up my trailer.

From addiction
To eviction
Dereliction
Feral diction
Barrels fiction
Heralds friction
Searching for money
The days aren't sunny
Reflecting light
Deflecting sight
Detecting might
Inventing rights
Respecting fright
Yet dissecting plight
Won't cause a fight
For the needle holed
Beetles show
Fetal glow
Being low
Seeing no
As their blow
To the flow
Of the snow
Turning hearts to stone

Dutiful
To beautiful
Pharmaceuticals
A visceral
Medicinal
Scissor fold
Bitter hole
Withers souls
Of imbeciles
In the scold
Of the old
Who whine
Speed signs
Feed lines
Seen by
Unwise
As lies
They don't abide
So they divide
Into demise
Until the flies
Eat them like fries
After days they despise
Give them a fatalist prize

Driving down the road at night
an oblivious skunk walks out in front of me
forcing a brake stomp
chaos car slides like the items inside
stopping inches before the skunk
who nonchalantly scurries off
frustration fills my car
whose contents have been turned upside down
but I can’t begrudge the skunk
because creatures follow a different set of rules
especially skunks
so the road continues to be traveled
but I wish I had never had to deal with that skunk
because the stench of its spray sticks to my Focus.

The piano towers before me like a black monolith
its keys are the bones I'm learning to swing
teaching technology tediously
until I can explore space
between man and self.

I put myself in stasis
while I battle my machine.
The piano assumes autonomy over my command center
cutting off my air supply
until I'm completely disconnected
floating in space.

The piano requires my focus and dedication
so I go to boot camp
to pay my dues.
I see everyone marching in the same direction
I want to put soap in a sock
and make them stop.
But they willingly wash out one by one
the commitment too demanding
they **** themselves in the process
but I'm able to survive
because I view myself as a joker
allowing me to accept abuse.

Applying the skills we've learned
becomes war
everybody's trying to shoot me down
and firebomb me.
How am I supposed to compete
when they'll **** the audience's **** for five dollars
or snipe at me from inside their homes?
I'm safe behind the cover of my piano
but they've got me pinned down
and I can't move.

I need a nightingale to nuzzle up to my ear
and chirp the secret chord or lyric
that will allow me to enter the gates of Beverly Hills
with one simple word. Fidelio.

I want to be so successful
I'm able to get into Illuminati ******
and walk around looking like a witch doctor
saying, "Yo, they're really ******* on the coffee table, nice."
until I'm ordered to get back to playing piano
and start wondering
if at my highest aspirations
I'm just a rich man's *****.

In this stuffy church
I’m roughly hurt
by bugging jerks
judging worth
until I’m dirt.
They drag this out
until I’m filled with doubt
I scream and shout
on a team of drought
I seethe and pout.

I’m the small child
running through the aisle
through their perception I’m wild
I traverse a sea of begrudging smiles
hating my unique style.
They say I’m defiled
and put me through trials
like staring with vile
or spewing their bile
until I’m exiled.

They say I don’t know God
but I see him every day
in art that is beautiful
so no matter what they say
I know I am dutiful.
If they could view my soul
they’d ignore what the losers told
and not abuse my home.

I don’t want to call them heathens
but it seems their grievance
isn’t rooted in my allegiance
or anything I believe in
yet they keep yelling treason
for ulterior reasons.

So I leave their cathedral
of sinister evil
I’m finished with people
and their oppressive steeples.
I project my situation
onto one of the most varied ideologies on the planet
I say they’re all the same
they all play games
of lies and shame
or are boring and lame.

I feel the venom
of resentment
so I won’t reach heaven
or contentment
just what dissent sent
through judgment relentless
I see Satan as a temptress
telling me to end this.

I’m roadkill with a glint still in my eye
on the blacktop I lie
before the arrival of flies
who finalize a demise
that seems more like a prize.

A king withdraws into his castle
his eyes drawn out while sitting on the throne
now I'm not a king I'm just an *******
but I do know what it's like to sit at home
not knowing what's going on
a court jester growing con
shows I don't belong
to the awaiting bombs
so I move along.

I need time
and space
I'll wait in line
there's no race
just a loss of grace
that needs to be replaced
this isn't ideal
but I need to heal
from the hamster wheel
of ample feels
like despair over what went wrong
shame which is my only law
pain is there and is raw
so I withdraw
like a sick fawn
without its skinned mom.

The doors to my eyes are shut
as long as I'm stuck
in this lousy rut
building walls of muck
as blinders for a buck
who isn't racing
only running
from those chasing
and gunning
but there's no way to dispel
Satan himself
a turtle withdraws into its shell
laying precariously on the freeway
it knows what awaits is hell
but it can't peel away
because it sees a way
it can be in play.

Seasons slink
I need to think
while on the brink
of an overcast downfall
I put up a sound wall
to ignore the ground's call
asking me to withdraw
into its halls
where I'd switch all
the things I've acquired in life
for eternal night
an infernal fight
to do what's right
and keep the damage inner
temptation says come hither
that wily wyvern
always gives burns
but I never will learn
that my plans of stillbirth
cause a fiery chill hurt.

I'm in a delicate state
and need to deflate
no need to debate
please for my sake
give me a break
I need to escape
the chaos
in which I'm way lost
like the sky that is grey glossed
and the ground made of clay frost
we all have the same boss
whose favorite move is a flame toss.

The withdraw gets worse
turning into a curse
I'm living in a hearse
willing to see the dirt
I feel it flirt
beckoning me to my reckoning
everyone else is seconding
that motion
so I withdraw into an ocean
made entirely of land
the soil I scan
only to find desert sand
passing through my hands
to show I'm ******.

Time goes by
as withdrawn I
had delusions I could fly
they were just withdrawn lies
to make me try
despite belonging on the ground
completely covered by the color brown
with a scent that could gag a hound
so when I finally look around
no one is there
they've withdrawn into pairs
making me stop and stare
yearning for tender care
so I shoot a flare
into the air
but it withdraws back into my gun
like the blacked out sun
telling me I'm done
and the withdraw won.

Birds chirping                wind blowing
doors swing open                   floodgates of chaos
noise                  people                          beeh­ive buzzing
unease               uncertainty                                           unable
customers noisy as dishes clanging                                       in the back
focus                  obscured                             ­                  insecurity
offensive presence                                 apologetic demeanor
forgive me brother                  for I have sinned
optical trajectory                     floor
please                          thank you
hands                 pockets
forgive me.

There’s a difference between dignity and pride
you can lose dignity without even trying
but shedding pride is a constant battle.

Nighttime is perilous
pestilential predators lurk
evisceration entropy envelopes everything
wounds are collected like keys to doors leading underground
and I can hear a jingling in my pocket
so I denounce the nighttime
unlocking the door to a home
where one can sleep at night.

But once I go outside in tomorrow’s morning
the sunlight shines into my soul, cooking my sutured skin
along with the keys I’ve collected
burning through my clothes
and into my body
flies can smell subcutaneous sizzling a mile away
they yearn to feast, buzzing all around me
crawling through my insides
multiplying
while vultures fly laps around me from above.

So I throw a nocturnal drape over the tumultuous foothills
and begin imparting my basement keys onto others
an imposing locksmith
a charitable safecracker
Johnny Applekeys
prowling with pouncing predators
masking my petulant bitterness with false wisdom
my edgy perception of maturity tells me to be jaded
hey, that’s just the way it is
I call myself an honest realist
a self ordained keymaster
I wear my key ring proudly
and distribute keys to those around me.

Stuck between persistent motion and paralysis
my key chains start swinging like pendulums
dancing like an opposing militia
like my eyes once I start getting nervous
waiting for the receipts to my exchanges
reflecting how I’m living in the red
and the debt I owe others
I can only pay in keys leading nowhere.

I try to convince them that the doors I unlock lead to riches
but we all know they’re paths to the hell from whence I came
my words are for myself
like the hell I man the ferry for
selling keys to scary doors
used as lifeboats in my shipwreck life
surviving off of other people’s strife.

The keys are overflowing from my makeshift pit
they poke into my veins like needles from the past
suffocating me like a rat in an hourglass, buried in sand
I imagine it’s the beach to the shore I can reach no more
unlike my swamp where I act as lifeguard
to a lagoon no man inhabits
I say “the water is fine, hop on in”
when I don’t even know how to swim
so even the trees think that I’m dim
when I hang my keys on their limbs.

Surviving night means eat or be eaten
yet my decisions effect daytime treatment
when scars put me behind bars
I inquire as to the depth of the dungeon
digging a subterranean home then diving deeper
finding company at the bottom with grim reapers
where the ostrich that flies is ostracized until it’s fossilized
so I sit in my estranged egg
not wanting to ever hatch
but no matter how much I beg
my keys unlock the latch.

I work on a river bank in the rainforest of an Amazon warehouse
where the torrential downpour of consumerism never subsides
filling the conveyor belt tributaries flowing through the industrial jungle
so commodity pisces can swim to my village at the basin—pack line 2
where the village folk run a benevolent catch and release program
providing bags and boxes for physical deflection and germ prevention
parts, presents, and propaganda all prudently properly packaged
finally released to follow the river to their eighteen wheel hearse
transporting them to a behemoth with an insatiable appetite
it gets a primitive thrill out of being a picky eater
throwing away anything it doesn't want
letting the vultures circle the trash pile
knowing its waste will attract new feeders
salmon swimming upstream thinking they'll become leviathans.

Science advances humanity
It has lit up the night
And shown us cosmic sights
Science has lengthened our life span
As well as providing insight into the mind of man
So when we’re faced with a world in turmoil
People try turning to science to solve our problems
Which is a noble worthwhile task indeed
But I fear our solution may not lie in an equation
I imagine if that were the case
The equation would be understood at birth
And the solution would be love

I feel so lonely
I want someone to know me
And caress me slowly
Instead I’m imploding

I search to no avail
As loneliness prevails
My life goes stale
Telling tall tales
Of how I was impaled

I’m the single Pringle at the bottom of the can
That can’t be reached by their hand
Because it holds a brand
I can’t withstand
They always demand more
Like I’m their ****** *****
Who won’t stand for
The grand tour

So I just keep breathing
As love keeps leaving
Sitting here seething
Like I’m teething
While they beat me
Discretely

I know what I want
And won’t settle for less
But the settlers taunt
Saying they’re blessed
The riches they flaunt
Of having a guest
Leaves me impressed
But once I’m undressed
I see it’s all in jest
So it’s time to rest

I want to be part of society
Without anyone tied to me
Because they just lie to me
Playing hide and seek
Making life bleak
I travel through the cosmos
Where only God knows
How much time slows
Where the blind go

So I fold
And throw in the towel
Once I’m cold
And disemboweled
I reluctantly resign
While I’m singularly defined
Our lives will never intertwine
So I live inside my winter mind

I say life as a bachelor
Is spectacular
To mask the hurt
Of being attached to dirt
Inside this frozen canyon
Where I can’t join a tandem
While others avoid my fandom
I become a haunting phantom

This misery gets increasingly annoying
So I convince others to join me
In relationship avoiding
And defense mechanism employing
To act like I’m enjoying
The life I’m destroying

I’ve been given a life of bliss
Into the church I slip
To worship this
First on the list
Is where to sit
In the holy pit
Of soul and spit

In the church there’s a battle
Between a serpent’s rattle
And the deafened cattle
There’s heaven and hell
In the seven sins I smell
Tainting the holy well
In which I dwell

I see pews
Of bad news
And my muse
But shy blues
Make lies loom
And I’ll die soon
In this spite tomb
Where I hide doom

The flamethrower
Game goer’s
Blame lowers
Shame knowers
To lanes slower
And a constrictive halo
Doesn’t let brains grow
So if the pastor say so
They’ll live in a daze glow

Their entropy
And my atrophy
Start centering
Around catastrophe
When what has to be
Is shooting flak at me
Dastardly

Two sides collide
And I must abide
To survive
The hive
Where demons and angels
Are leaving me mangled
Constantly tangled
In their angles

Some are good
Some are evil
Jesus saves
But do his people?

Relationships need trust and honesty
I need to trust you're honest with yourself
but you got me grappling and groveling
every time I loosen my belt
your face starts to melt
pulling shame off the shelf
your blame takes my health.

Too many accusations
too much blame
I experience saturation
in your flame
of toxic guilt
with which I'm filled
from the oil you spill
on a torn canvas
like a praying mantis
straining my bandwidth
until I can't sit and demand this
**** sandwich no longer be brandished.

You blame me for everything
even when you're wrong
you look at every sting
as a planted bomb
**** I'm gone
the lamb I'm on
from your grand ole song
I'm a handled hog
freed from a damaged log.

You're always right
like the hand I ******* with
without you in sight
I'm bound to my coffin.

Why don't you answer?
I just want to talk
it's like a silent cancer
making me want to stalk
or outline with chalk
our friendship
and why I must end this.

I want to quietly leave
like the way you stay
pay me no heed
I'll be in my grave
instead of be in the way
I'll bleed just to say
anything for attention paid.

Your evasion's abrasions
stole my elation
and substituted placation
to complete my disintegration
within your disinterest nation
where the citizens never vote or protest
they just see who floats the lowest
learning how to go the slowest.

It isn't clingy as ****
to say I don't see you enough
to leave out this rut
I need your disrupt
but all I hear is a lack of sound
so I back on down
to the blackened ground
where I'm the last around
in a silence loud.

You were asked if you wanted to get together and
you said probably. Now that answer’s haunting me
after seeing how quickly  probably turns into not
with me. You just promised me probably for a
proper flee from damaged property. Do you think
if you said maybe I’d assume you hate me? No
would’ve been the correct route to go instead of
engendering excessive expectations for my existence.

Pastors probably preach patience but paradigms
shift once penetrated by paramount peer pressure.
Answers are hard to find when only probably is
spoken by God to me. I’m probably an oddity that
doesn’t know what probably means, but I guessed
it meant yes unless something unforeseen happened
to be. But probably just means you’re not for me
less awkwardly.

I don’t know where to begin, probably when you told
me my live for you was a sin. I don’t know when it
ends, probably when I have no more time to spend. I
don’t know who I am, probably the guy that fell for
love’s scam. I don’t know what I desire, probably to
extinguish love’s fire.

A blinding light
Blocked my sight
A pervasive plight
That invades my life
Then degrades to night

The light is you
In a darkened zoo
Where my hatred grew
Until you shined through

You emanate a warm aura
More fragrant than God’s flora
Teaching more than God’s Torah
So you’re like my god sort of

When I talk to you
I feel love in my heart
So to avoid stalking you
Our ways I do part

I think of you constantly
Like you’re haunting me
Dauntingly
Taunting me

Your face
And smile
Show grace
For miles
So I race
To exile

But your hair shining brown
Like an earthy crown
Rules my town
Pushing me down
Underground

I hear you everyday
I hear everything you say
I hear your beauty
I hear you rebuke me
Like it’s your duty
To cut right through me

I see you everyday
Through the fray
Of swirling grey
In my heart
And my soul
I fall apart
And grow old

I tell myself I’m just waiting
I tell myself I’m still looking
But I’ve been self hating
Ever since you shook me

I look at the night sky
And ask God why
I can’t just fly
Away from this guy
So I just start to die
In this love I’m capsized
Wailing these laugh cries

I can’t love anyone else
So instead I just melt
This is the pain you’ve dealt
By just being yourself

Nostalgia
Notes how the
Crowd's love
Creates a glove
To hold in for some
A place to return as they wish
For a familiar dish
Of childhood bliss
Or love's first kiss
Whatever is on their list
Can be internet fished
From favorites
To savor it
To lead you
In a redo
Of our prelude
To see through
Ways we grew
To slay the blues

When I get low
I take the retro
Midnight metro
To what I know
Like Streetlight Manifesto
Or DJ Tiesto
Then presto
The mess shown
Gets blown
From my comfort zone

What has been
Planted a tree
To set me free
From weather I flee
But the better I see
The lesser I need
The veteran steed
That salesmen breed

A Donkey Kong
Smoking ****
Sings a song
That's a con
Pretending things last
But what's passed is past
We must focus on the blast
Currently guiding our ship's mast

The nostalgia driven
Culture didn't
Make me livid
But the insipid
Use the internet
That can intercept
Interest
In the mess
That's our pest
Their ignorance
Makes the difference
In my regretful inference
That nostalgia's innocence
Was erased by impotence

A strand of your hair borders
my ocean of tears.
Grains of sand mold together
forming mud.
You stand nonchalantly on the berm
staring over the vast nothingness
of the waterway nether.
Ocean floor follicles utilize
microscopic cilia.
Tiny motile tendrils propel me
along rock bottom.
Octopi submerged in sand banks
wait, coiled callously.
Ambush tentacles envelope me while
pulling me into the bell.
My depths always seem
darker than yours.
Claustrophobic.
Suffocating.
Narrow.
Caverns and coves collapse, caving
in before I ever find them.
I'm tied to tumultuous tentacles tangling,
blocking my butterfly stroke to the beach
where your hair washes upon the shore
like seastruck flotsam building barricades.

Ford has a new tag line
That bothers me way more than it should
They say, “We don’t just raise the bar, we are the bar.”
But to raise the bar is to go over it
So why would being the bar be any better?
They set the standard for people to go over?
Did they not put any thought into it?
Have I not put enough thought into it?
Am I putting too much thought into it?
Ford hasn’t just put me in a k-hole, I am a k-hole

A good church is a cord connecting a community
God's umbilical cord connecting humanity
like the cords connecting the computers, cameras and microphones
the AV team meets every week to uplift a hundred seats
before worship practice starts they connect with one another
providing lines of praise and prayer tracing their hopes and fears
running diagnostics
checking the cords connected to instruments,  lighting, earpieces
removing the frays and knots
because the sermon runs smoothly when all the cords have been checked
the cords run throughout the church and up the band's spines
the voice of God lets them know they'll be playing the bridge again
so everybody throws up their hands and sings along
their vocal cords trying to hit tonal chords
cords of water connecting eyes to mouths shows
the congregation is plugged in
because the cords have been properly checked.

I’m drinking
Sinking
Into stinking
Slinking

My road to recovery
Must be denied stubbornly
When those governing
Are sending me to Coventry

They have a general notion
Against the genuine emotion
Not included in the ocean
Of their potions

The brand of light
Of the examined life
In this land of strife
Is banned by night

I feel I’m about to fall
Without the alcohol
That mounts a wall
To discount the small

The barricade
The sheriff made
Shares the blame
For this scary game

Smoking *** is illegal
Unlike being evil
So horrible people
Can treat me unequal

The liquor stores
Have quicker doors
Than sniffer scores
So the picker pours

I start drinking
Without blinking
And all I’m thinking
Is of someone winking

Spending my life at the bar
Makes me put up my guard
After a lifetime of scars
I live life on Mars

I become part of the darkness
Floating in space
Becoming friends with the heartless
Love is erased

My friends never die
They just fade away
While I lie
In the gray

Ostracized
From the wise
I cough and cry
Sick inside

I’m all alone
Turned to stone
In the zone
Of their cones

With no hope
I drink to cope
On my downward *****
Holding a noose for rope

I’m killing myself
By filling myself
With a million welts
Will someone please help?

Driving down the freeway in Kentucky, there are only a couple exits people expect you to take. Lexington or Louisville,
pick one. Otherwise, what specific business
do you have going on in Sadieville?

I'm one of the unknown exitters
living 20 minutes off the Mt. Zion Road exit.
No one gets off this exit but me
onto a lonely drive through the trees.

I live off an exit where the vultures eat the dead, then perch on the trees that are dead, deceased in defeat under the feet that eat.
The graves of unknown soldiers lie buried beneath
convenience stores. The storefront sign says open
but the discordance inside is close.

Wandering in the wilderness
while the wind whistled my sins
you joined me in Union
after you missed the right exit.

Voices from the nether sent you letters saying things are better up north. My box on the side of the road holds notes that were
written with the intention of being read, but they're just
thrown out with the junkmale instead.

You burned too hot and I burned too much
in a snare I was caught once you abstained from touch
You were all I had, this isn't New York City
how many people am I supposed to have with me?

150 years ago, brother fought brother over the lives of their brothers here. Not much has changed since then.
A grave robber's eyes are seen in the faces of
wanderers. Welcomes only last until usefulness has passed.

You kept driving through
I wish I could exit too
but will Ohio be any better?
Once you find out send me a letter.

I have to find home
to get back to the grindstone
but the lined clones
are where my mind goes
until wasted time shows
that I'm dying slow
in the blinding snow
of finding glows
whose fleeting blinks
give me clouds of pink
that start to sink
and then disappear
leaving me here
wondering what I did wrong
smoking a ****
and singing songs
to get along
with myself for my health
otherwise I give myself the belt
when there's gold I can smelt
sitting in a laptop or a notebook
I need to hit the blacktop and go cook
instead of waiting by the phone hook
I just hate the way being alone looks
but every time I try I get my dome shook
grinding my soft heart into stone
so I need to get back to where that heart is
before I'm grinded down to bone
on grindstone marches.

I have a leech on me
and I can't get outside of it

I work hard for the blood I've given
to sustain my captor

I leech all I can from it
as it leeches all it can from me

reciprocated bloodsucking
a competitive transfusion

blood goes in me
and out the other side

cascading off the hospital gurney
belonging to my polyamorous annelid

who brays in good fortune
as the blood leaves my body

spilling on the floor
to be pushed down the drain

where it becomes nourishing water
rejuvenating sulfur-scented cannibals.

Thorns in my eyes
I’m born among flies
In a shrouded surprise
Of a forest of lies
Where the trees block out the sun
Eternal night is lit by the gun
I have no time to be stunned
I must run

I tried to sunbathe
Unscathed
But gun spray
Led one way
To my brain
Becoming insane
In pain

I was indeed roused
From my treehouse
Once their breed browsed
My need for clouds
A lumberjack
Plunder attack
Sunder stacked
My world to black

I tried to go hiking
But met a Viking
Constantly striking
To his liking
I wear sleeves of leaves
And greaves of weeds
That don’t impede
What makes me bleed

I cannot track
All the attacks
And trajectory of flak
Hitting my back
So I hide in a hollow log
In a disgusting bog
From bloodlust dogs
Who are simple cogs

The cunning demons
Lurk in tree limbs
And breed sin
To feed in
Through the canopy
Of their insanity
I cannot see
Any humanity

The porous forest
Forces
Wild horses
Onto mild courses
For they can’t see the forest through the trees
And what they do see is from their knees
As they beg and plead
The gods of greed
Who have them treed

The evil tree branches
Summon an enchantress
Who can incant this
Closed fist
I use as a machete
To cut down the petty
Like they’re light confetti
For a fight I’m ready

A girl has a dream
To be a singer seen
By her fellow teens
But her self esteem
Will have to be deep
For her to take the leap
To the dreams she’ll keep
While everyone sleeps

She takes the stage
In front of fans with rage
Who have a war to wage
Against those with grace
Who avoided the grave
Where the bitter stay

They throw trash
They throw dirt
They paid their cash
To giver her hurt
The ticket is worth
Ripping her shirt

They scream and spit
Not displaying much wit
Shouting “show us your ****”
Or “play a top forty hit”
Complaining “this isn’t lit”
To imply her music is ****

She sings even louder
To show she is prouder
To disprove all the doubters
Because in this pivotal hour
She has more power
Than all of those cowards

They tell her to give up
Because she’ll never live up
To those who are sin stuck
Blaming low win luck
While paying big bucks
To call her a lame duck

All she does is sing
Nullifying the hate they bring
Nullifying their spiteful stings
Nullifying the words they sling
Their hands they wring
While they watch her spring
Angelic wings
As she flies over them
She sees pathetic men
In the canyon she fled

America has an obsession with guns
and will glorify anybody that carries one.

America has an obsession with race
and will glorify anybody that shares their face.

Imagine every statue and memorial in America vanished
and America placed you, Mr. Reader, in charge
of deciding what every monument in the country would be
—events commemorated, dates remembered, people honored—
how long would it take for you to start naming confederate soldiers?

I know what it's like to fail
In a continuous loop
In this game I trail
I keep missing the hoop
As my spirit goes stale
I forget how to shoot
I let out a banshee's wail
And then I go mute

I know what it's like to lose
To be beaten and bruised
By those who pick and choose
Who hangs from their noose
My mission wasn't a success
Once you told me I was a mess
And you weren't impressed
After I undressed
So I elect to rest
After deciding you're the best

In my lonely bed I lie
Even here I slowly die
I don't even have to try
To be losing my life
So I'm using a knife
To cut out my eyes
And get rid of my sight
Because my main plight
Is watching day lose to night
The only winner my grey blight

I try to put a padlock
On the mad clock
Like an ad block
On my last box
God laughs a lot
Saying "I think not
Time can't be bought
You must wither and rot"

I've lost the battle
And the war
I hear death rattle
In my core
As I implore
God for more
To reach the shore
But he slams the door

There's no such thing as heaven
Just a seventy year game seven
Where my eyes gradually redden
So I can't play the game
While my optics are strained
Until my vision is completely lost
And I die alone in the frost

The world is witnessing
footage of tanks being pulled by tractors
and the world being pulled by bad actors
perceiving it differently
some with shock, others callous laughter
watching the country Putin is after
watching it distantly
in order to avoid more disaster
or a Russian soldier’s blaster
in a frosty Eastern European fridge.

It’s not just about burning one bridge
because we’re all interconnected
so other countries interjected
taking umbrage
with the taking of suffrage
so other bridges start crumbling
under destruction wondrous
and Russian tanks rumbling
so politicians start stumbling
to dissuade the invasive horde
while not getting too involved
fearing further diplomacy dissolve.

Controlling the center of the board
is a good way of beating your opponent in chess
but nobody wants in the center of this mess
so both sides lean forward more
aggressively guarding perimeters
that Ukraine falls in between
now the world waits and sees
in a war started under Demeter
if the frostbitten bleed.

Ghost Adventures is a joke
a TV show and a hoax
for people who’ve toked
and superstitious folks.

They’re live streaming an episode on the Dybbuk Box
for viewers to gimmick watch
The Duke and Earl’s
farce to unfurl.

They bring in a rabbi
to play along
to say what’s wrong
but the rabbi says there’s nothing to the Dybbuk Box
in response the ******* scoffs
because the cynic stopped
his thickened plot.

They tried to use the rabbi’s trade
to substantiate their charade
with credibility of a higher grade
but the rabbi protected his religion
better him than someone indifferent
who’s living in a paycheck prison
instead the rabbi made the decision
to stop the derision
with a logical incision.

The light shines
Everything is fine
But over time
The light declines

The light grows dim
As the days grow slim
Making my mentality grim
When I feel I can’t win

My plight professor
Says I’m a light obsessor
So my sight is lesser
Given the right pressure
Days of shortened measure

The days grow dimmer
So I can’t find a glimmer
Of hope to cope
With the gradient *****
Of the light being choked

As the shadows grow longer
The darkness grows stronger
And ghosts start to wander
Through my past I ponder

The darkness has replaced
Your beautiful face
With a dimmer embrace
So I can no longer trace
My tie to the human race

The light they’re dimming
To continue sinning
Until the room is spinning
And they’re artificially grinning
Is my light of living
So darkness they’re bringing

Somebody shot the sun
With a tranquilizer gun
Now I’m totally stunned
As the plants are done
Growing as one

The light is dimmed
As I am skinned
By frigid wind
I’m living in

My light completely goes out
As faith loses to doubt
On this tumultuous route
Getting punched in the mouth