"From the depths
of the mirror,
a corpse gazed back at me.
The look in his eyes, as they stared
into mine, has never left me."

Closing the book I looked at the cover,
Night by Elie Wiesel. Averting my eyes
from the book to my teacher, she stares

at the class in profound silence, then she says,
"There's something very similar happening in America
today." I was shocked, I couldn't believe it took me until

middle school to hear about this. My ears perked up in morbid
curiosity as the other students nodded making me feel like a *******,
"Abortion." the teacher stated with lofty arrogance as I breathed a sigh of relief

encouraged by the banality of right wing indoctrination replacing revelation
of more senseless slaughter. I didn't watch Fox News, I didn't know I was
supposed to hate abortion and Dr. Tiller; that's where Elie Wiesel and

teacher come in. Elie Wiesel wrote a book that makes people want
to change the world, my teacher narrowed it down to the target
in her crosshairs. Tiller died a few years later, Wiesel died

several years after that. My old middle school teacher
is still alive using books of the dead to demonize the
living for demanding demonetizing democracy

until malleable minds are mangled
shifting their forming mentality
into one as narrow as hers.

Spiderwebs are everywhere.
Spiderwebs are in the air.
The webs that ensnare
are the webs they share.

Little strings appear out of nowhere.
In my mind they appear no fair.
Those lines tell me don’t go there
by sticking to my nose hair.

Spiderwebs are as sticky as lies.
I guess that’s how they catch flies.
I guess I thought I was more wise
until I walked into a spiderweb surprise.

Their nets envelope my home
so I’m caught in their web.
If I choose to roam
I could be dead.
So I stay inside instead
and wonder why in dread
while I’m tied to my bed
by a spider’s thread.

Some people still don't understand the power of the internet
nor the consequences of social media
they're incredulous when society reacts negatively to someone
if it's someone they like, that is
then that incredulity fuels their perpetual outrage
little things like buzzwords change over time
political correctness becomes cancel culture
and those people say Tropic Thunder couldn't be made anymore
but those people were saying Tropic Thunder couldn't be made
when Tropic Thunder was made.

Those people have truncated perspectives
and provide truncated answers
to non-existent questions
then wonder why filmmakers don't respond to the criticism
of someone who watches ten movies per year
and their half-baked commentary on the film industry
that has more to do with their political agenda
rather than any real concern for creative liberty.

Sports fans love dichotomies
Brady or Montana?
James or Jordan?
The NHL is aware of this
And possesses two generational players
Alexander Ovechkin and Sydney Crosby
Ovechkin plays for the Washington Capitals
And Crosby plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins
One of the most notable team rivalries in sports
So the NHL asks fans to pick a side for marketing purposes
Ovechkin is sold as strength while Crosby is sold as finesse
Which would be a reasonable way to advertise their league
But like every sports league they are dealing with safety concerns
And the NHL is trying to escape the ignorant assumption
That hockey revolves around brutality and is of a primitive nature
So they don’t want to highlight the sports’ physicality
During this delicate and uncertain time
So more often than not Crosby is favored over Ovechkin
Through officiating, commentating, administrating and marketing
Which implicitly sells Crosby over Ovechkin
To the lowest common denominator
Who are interested in those kind of dichotomies

Since the Capitals are the highest profile team
That plays especially physical
The NHL feels the need to treat them with particular austerity
To show they are serious about safety
But this results in massively inconsistent actions by the league

Tom Wilson is one of the Capitals’ best players and their best checker
He was suspended for 20 games for a slightly late hit
He was in proper checking form
Shoulder down and leading, feet planted on the ice
But made incidental contact with Oskar Sundqvist’s head
Giving Sundqvist a concussion so the NHL suspended Wilson
Meanwhile...
Tom Wilson is attacked from behind by Ryan Reaves
On a very ***** hit that had no athletic function or basis in hockey
Launching himself at the back of Wilson’s head on a cheap shot
Giving Wilson a concussion
Reaves was very proud of himself
Selling autographed pictures of an injured Tom Wilson
And the NHL had nothing to say

Tom Wilson received a 20 game suspension
Losing hundreds of thousands of dollars
For an overzealous check
But when he is maliciously attacked with the intent to injure
There is no suspension handed down

A wise man once said
“An injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere”
And I agree
So I can’t stand seeing someone treated with a blatant bias
If it’s on Capitol Hill or in the Capitals’ stadium
And don’t want to live in a world where that’s acceptable

If I could say something to Tom Wilson
I’d say thank you for handling the situation with grace
And not to pay too much attention
To the biased elite or the mindless masses
Because all they try to do is dip you in molasses
They’re not going to protect you on the ice
That’s something you must do on your own
And there’s a lot of people who’ll try to give themselves importance
By eliminating those of higher value
You just have to be able to take their hits
And hit back harder than they ever could

I'm on a delivery
speeding down this precarious winding road
                  speeding for efficiency
    speeding for style
the sun strobes yellow through the trees
    like a sign for yielding
but the cars behind me tailgate
speed is maintained for fear of getting hit.

          Time flies as fast as
the lines on the road entrance me
          driving through a haze
the sun is obscured by cumulus clouds
           then disappears.

There's low visibility at night and my headlights are fading.
            Everything is blurry through my win shield.
         Weather gets colder in the absence of the sun
                                                       ice forms on the road.
A decision is made to maintain speed at the expense of control.
  A dusty bible slides back and forth in my glove compartment
                 dancing with my wayward movements.

     My light traces the road
like a spark tracing a fuse
the wick burns quickly for a fiery delivery.
My yellow lights trace yellow lines
so the road stays yellow all the time
         but I can see the darkness
over my shoulder as well as the road's
my headlights keep the darkness at bay
        but it's tedious driving this way.

          Movement never ceases
     I shouldn't be texting and driving
but I need someone to know I'm trying.
   This road took everything from me
       this road became my purpose
       something somewhat special
         that couldn't be purchased.

I'm on a delivery
destination undefined
it's not about where I'm going but how far
which is why I wish I could buy a new car.

Do you want to be my friend?
What do we do now?
And to what extent?
I know how weird this sounds
but I don't know what's allowed
so I make sure no one's around
before I quietly drown in a bustling town.

Should I say hi
or walk on by
stop and sigh
and wonder why
I let silence rise?

Should I stay or should I go?
I use yellow lines to see the road
I never know how to be en vogue
so I just tell myself I'm free alone
and I don't need a home.

Do these questions have answers?
Is silence a cancer
affecting my candor?

My impropriety
makes me hide inside of me
until the sun's light is bleak
so I start to seek
a friend to defeat
my silent streak
but only silence speaks.

Down at the business factory profits were low
or at least lower than the shareholders wanted
so Hyper-Capitalist Genius Man masterminded a brilliant plan:
“We have three people performing a task
two people could accomplish while losing their minds
attrition rates shouldn’t be a concern
because we’ll just streamline the jobs
so there’ll always be desperate workers
who can easily replace the disillusioned ones.”.

The other businessers were impressed
the emperor of business had heard enough:
“****** you’re ‘Work People to Death‘ theory might just work.
I’m naming you chief execution officer of the company.”.
Profits went up and were disseminated amongst the higher-ups
so that everyone that mattered was happy
all thanks to Hyper-Capitalist Genius Man.

I found you this rose
it's the color one has to see to win a fight in jail
as far as fighting goes
I don't think I'll ever prevail
fighting tooth and nail
against brutish males
of which you are one
holding my rose like a gun
which was set to stun
and now to ****
you get your fill
removing my will
by sitting me still.

I gave you a red flower
with thorns
it gave you power
and horns
adorned
above your scorn
looking down on me
a coyote howling
amongst the evergreens
that are never seen
and an ember means
the death of trees
so the creatures leave
at the sight of steam.

I'll respect you
I'll treat you right
so I expect you
to leave tonight
while keeping my rose
to keep me feeling low
to keep me on my toes
to keep me on the go
in fact the only thing not worth keeping
is the man who just got done speaking.

We need to be putting people on planets
before there are Putin people on planets
so we can dictate a culture
free from dictators
deporting the Dutertes from the atmosphere
that burns the arrows of the Bolsonaros
there's no progressive bastion here
so we must look forward in the years
past all of the Kim Jong-uns
even though their bombs might fall soon
so we can find the Roosevelts and Kennedys
to change the scorching hell ahead we see
but those leaders are obstructed
by the not so brainy
followers of Ali Khameini
believing ancient myths and men who grift
there's so much mud to sift there's no way to lift
what keeps us from other planets
through nationalist panic
and conspiracy theories
reaching the selective hearing
of god fearing *******
calling Trump their master
and the oppressed their slaves
we need to reach other planets
but we're still stuck in the cave.

We were once awake
too awake
until you fell asleep
and slept for a while
then you stayed asleep
now I’m too afraid to sleep
because I don’t want to see you.

I came out of the closet swinging
my **** around
all the while singing
and wearing a crown
it’s nice to be here
out of the darkness
now the way I steer
is the farthest
without a harness
I go wherever I may
it’s the greatest decision I ever made
and all I had to do is say that I’m gay.

They told me never to count my chickens before they hatch
but I just never count my chickens ever
because chicken salad always looks like chicken ****
when I’m obsessing over nuggets.

Life is meaningless
Life is pointless
Is anyone seeing this
Disappointment?
I become avoidant
From annoyance
I slip into a depression
Bringing an obsession
Of not learning lessons
Just getting high every second

I’m ****** in strife
Not living the examined life
Against a canon’s might
Loaded with grams of white
Shooting me high as a kite
So I can ignore my plight
Of having to fight

The murky waters shifted
Into my blood stream they drifted
I was euphoria gifted
Learning to be lifted
I became a hedonistic
Phenom misfit
Talking cryptic
And apocalyptic

I see the haughty led
Talking heads
As the walking dead
Stalking dread
They want me red
But their haunting bled
My arm instead
The only blood I shed
Is from my carnal bed
On the path I tread

A needle goes in
Blood comes out
I live in sin
I live in doubt
Looking for an escape route

I’m a cynical buyer
In a situation dire
Sick and tired
Stuck in fire
Becoming a liar
To get higher

Trust has disappeared
But I am still here
Filled with fear
Not knowing which way to steer
I try to act cavalier
To placate the cattle here
But I live in the saddest sphere
Even though I’m in the stratosphere
I see madness near

I can’t keep it civil
With my head on a swivel
Wearing the addict’s sigil
Track marks mean no acquittal
So subterfuge is pivotal
All communication is digital
When I have to hide my visual

I have no grace
I’m given no mercy
Every decision I face
Ultimately hurts me
Making me *****
From what I’m observing
And for what I’m deserving
Because of truth I’m deserting
To stay on the line I’ve been skirting
With death who’s been flirting

All I want is to binge
On the swamp in my syringe
On society’s fringe
Because once the ****** goes in
I can see heaven in hell
By ignoring the smell
Of where I dwell
In a euphoric shell

When all that remains
Is more of the same
I pray to the lord for rain
To wash my spirit away
So I can be a hero slain
Rather than singing a loser’s refrain
You pass these people everyday
They’re roadkill in the street
By the time you look in your rear view mirror
The vultures are back to eat
Gnawing their bones to defeat
Until they’re stripped of all meat
And their skin is baked in the heat
Their eyes melt staring into the sun
Once their blood is diluted by fun
So they can no longer be the one
Transmitting Jesus’ love

A lot of people
Say religion is evil
But I don’t need to go to a steeple
Or take a bunch of college classes
To learn opiates are the ****** of the masses

Winter spills over Kentucky
like a splash of liquid nitrogen

what eats is scarce because what's eaten is scarce
scavengers search trash cans—enjoying the warmth inside

ice scabs over fluvial lakes
once their revenue streams have been frozen

a faint, far away generator screams away the cold
like smokestacks on the horizon

(all that smoke must mean something
I figure something must be burning)

a fire burns somewhere—I'm not there
I'm here, and here, there's a fire over there

crimson cardinals appear through neutral trees
like I was struck in the head with a blunt object

darkness drifts overhead where geese drift away
as Kentucky loses consciousness

gauzy snow is wrapped around the state
—a cold compress for the fall's wounds

time heals all wounds
but is a wound itself.

I just thought you should know
it doesn’t matter if you stay or go
we live in a grave of souls
as slaves in tow
behind time and weather
like free floating feathers
slowly turning into leather
until we can float no more
like a boat with no shore
submerged underwater
with no dirge for the slaughter
we’re just purged to the bottom
as we swerve down this slalom
to the base of our column
where we find the mystery of death
before figuring out life
the whole time we’re in debt
until we see the light.

Bats found residence in my fireplace
discovering shelter in
protective brick walls.
Cold fronts attack in sunshine absence
I want to ignite a flame                 but
I fear the bats will infest my home
                      a home the bats see
as an addition to my fireplace.

I close my two eyes
I can’t see anything
I need a hand
from my pineal gland
to give me some vision
projections hit the back of my eyelids
showing me images conjured by myself
I am the artist and the audience
finally a filmmaker
but I have no editor
every edition is a suicide cut
the assembly footage with no assembly
different stories with the same outcome
being stuck in a homicide rut
different possibilities creating a medley
of my own creations hunting me
with the faces of others plastered on
in this world my mind is God
isolating flaws and fears
always feeling the end is near
when there was no beginning
to moving pictures with no plot
just mapping out my mind rot
showing me my insecurities and anxieties
leaving me insecure and anxious
I’m starting to hate the author of these stories
but the more I hate him the more they get gory.

I went down the rabbit hole
scrounging through darkness
squirming a maze of movements
just to reach a dead end
with only a rabbit waiting there
to inform me that I’m stuck in a hole.

I'm sad and I don't know why
Could it be that I steal and lie?
I say it's what I do to get by
While I still think I'm right
So I still need an explanation
For this depression's duration
I give my mind placation
With useless information
Which gives me frustration
While I yearn for elation

I put the focus on my brain chemistry
So people won't think less of me
For not living blessedly
From the lessons seen
That I ignored indeed
Like my aborted dreams
That were thwarted into steam
Once I found my neurological stream
Could take the blame for all that I've been

I have low serotonin
I have low dopamine
I feel the power of Odin
Choking me
And I can't see
Through the freeze
Of countless needs
That are unwatered seeds

I'm depressed
I'm bipolar
I regress
Into disorders
I use to put up borders
Or beg for quarters

A new age way
Of shirking my responsibility
I am my brain
I must own the emotions filling me
If I want to escape depression willingly
I must face it head-on until I'm free
But I don't follow those who lead
So I continue to be
Depressing

I ignore finding purpose
Or answering a calling
My only searches
Are for pills falling
Off the doctor's dolly

What's in my mental
Makes me special
But I'm disheveled
So I befriend the devil
On this lonely level
Where I solemnly settle

I think other people are lying
About how much they're crying
Because they seem like they're trying
While all I'm doing is sighing
At their pain I'm denying

The more people diagnosed with depression
The less of an individual it makes me
So I rationalize they haven't learned a lesson
And lives I'd love to be trading
Because all I'm doing is skating
While giving others' lives ratings
Comparing them to my rabies
I'm melodramatically exacerbating

Other people transform
I stick to the norm
Convinced I'm deformed
Not from the storm
But from when I was born

I want your sympathy
Not your help
Any advice you give to me
I'll put on the shelf
Sarcastically saying "Thanks I'm cured"
Because I think my negativity is truer
Than anything newer
Like your positivity
I rebuffed unwittingly
Because I'm miserable
And can't handle the truth
So it hurts so visceral
When you call me uncouth
But I'm not a sleuth
So I blame it all on youth
And the rest of your troops
Separated from my toxic loop

So I isolate myself
And get depressed even more
I blame my mental health
As I fall short of the shore
With opportunities galore
Yet all I can do is snore
And think of who I was before
Modern psychology implored
A brain chemistry war

While I am innocently driving
Headlights approach behind me
That are totally blinding
Here nobody will find me
So I have to keep riding

I can barely see the road
Because the scary glow
Only seems to grow
As it gets closer
To bringing me closure
In what could be a bull dozer

Sweat falls down my cheek
Because times are bleak
When I can’t see the street
The lights and my car meet
Yet I continue moving
As the lights go through me
They illuminate my cabin
Like a luminescent dragon
Disorienting my brain
With blinding pain
On this winding lane
During hazardous rain

The headlights float through my car
While shining like an exploding star
I’m having difficulty seeing very far
The headlights are my vision’s guard
Because my eyes start burning
While my wheels keep turning
I reluctantly resume learning
Shining pain on this journey

Well this isn’t good
The lights went through my hood
Violently twisting metal
But not the gas pedal
So my car won’t settle
As the blinding lights replace my own
Now blinding others feels like home
For I want the light’s pain to be known
So I won’t feel so alone
In this blinding zone

In order to live life to the fullest
One must accept reality as honestly as possible
In order to better move through life
One must be able to learn the lessons they’re taught
And utilize those signs to move smoother
But people pervert the message of these lessons
Because they’re bitter
They learn edgy lessons
For example:
Someone feels betrayed
They say to themselves, “People can’t be trusted”
When obviously plenty of people can be trusted
And thinking something doesn’t make it true
So they end up projecting their bitterness onto people
Because they couldn’t handle the complexity of their pain honestly
Because they don’t like to think about things that upset them
So they learn an edgy lesson and call it a day
And teach edgy lessons for life

Why say you hate politics?

Surely on some level you must agree
humanity is at its best when we're working together

the term politics gives us a shorthand
describing that interaction

perhaps what you really hate is people
and the way they interact with one another
especially when stakes are at their highest.

Maybe you hate how people treat you
maybe you hate how you treat people
both are good reasons for politics

to help us determine parameters and boundaries
but that decision making apparatus has been tainted
by a toxic mix of apathy and unnecessary hatred.

During his crucifixion
Why did Jesus ask, “My God, why have you forsaken me?”?
Could it be that in moments of severe pain
It’s okay to have doubt?

Eric Bischoff ran World Championship Wrestling
Otherwise known as WCW
The only wrestling company to beat the WWF/WWE in the ratings
(At least in the modern era)
Eric Bischoff made many mistakes
And they're well documented
He had many triumphs
And they're well documented
But on top of his successes and failures
Is a mountain of lies
Which are well documented
By wrestling's version of tabloid journalists
Otherwise known as "dirt sheet writers"
Who sell lies and gossip to their marks
They sell the delusion of knowing the inner workings of wrestling
They sell the inner workings of a dirt sheet writer's imagination
Negativity, cynicism, petulance and paranoia
Eric Bischoff has a distaste for these writers
Because their lies taint the viewer's experience
He tries to fight their lies with truth
But his effort is futile
Because there's an endless amount of pessimists
Willing to believe any cynical narrative thrown their way
And there's only one Eric Bischoff

I'd like to believe respectful discourse is always productive
and calm debate has healthy outcomes
making the circles we run in matter
but if someone has a "debate me" personality
then a debate will almost certainly not change their mind
the most it usually does is teach them new facts and arguments
to rationalize into their preconceived perspective
but normally it just amounts to a masturbatory exercise
where both parties feel they've done something good
when they haven't done anything at all
I suppose we're meant to run in these circles
and we can only hope these circles grow
slightly bigger every revolution ran
before our frustrated legs grow tired
and we start to get dizzy.

I'm sorry to say
Things didn't go your way
Chalk it up as dues to pay
Just please don't lose your faith
You must wrestle sin
Don't let it in
Or let it win
Or you'll get grim
On a lonely limb

Despite a deluge of hope
You yell lose and nope
You can't use a joke
Singing the blues to cope
24/7
You feel threatened
Before I finish my sentence
So our contact is lessened
Because your empathy deafened
Always puts me in second

You become negative
Ignoring relatives
You have hell to give
In the cell you live
Where it's dark
And barren
Bitterness is stark
And apparent

You expect me to save you
From what Satan gave you
But he's totally enslaved you
You need Jesus to bathe you
Because I see the same you
And will always blame you
Using a shame tool
To change fools

I hate to slice ties
But in your eyes belies
A sinister surprise
That'll bring my demise
That's sitting on ice
Precariously waiting to melt
To release your anger
So before any damage is dealt
I turn into a stranger

Desperate and lonely
you need someone for holding
but that's not how you know me
so you just call me homie
when looking for comforting company
to give aid to your conforming country
then you just start hatefully hunting
to prove you are... something.

You say get in the whip
like you're cool and you're hip
you sound like a **** that is dip
but I need your script in my wrist
so I hop in your motor vehicle
hoping for a hopeless miracle
that you'll stop acting satirical
and break out that bag that is spherical.

That shot must've not sat right
you've been looking for a fight
all narcotic night
your sardonic sight
has been on pointed humor to get me annoyed
but I don't feel like Robert Downey Jr. or Pink Floyd
when you interrupt my ****** stupor to argue like boys
I just want to be a user drama devoid.

You spit and stunt
telling me if I don't roll the blunt
I can get the **** out of your car
I ask why you're acting hard
is it emotional scars?
Or Xanax bars?
This planet's marred
with cancer hearts
you play your part
by trying to act cool
thus making the world colder
you look like a piece of stool
but think you're a soldier.

My shoulders shrug high
saying I don't want to be Drug Guy
so there's no need to be unkind
we can talk about this sometime
once you're unblind
but until then
see not me
with your peacocking
you seem cocky
but scream softly.

You call me a *****
I say try me and you'll see
it'll only be fueling
an endless cycle of dueling
but you want to be the crazy one
so your choices are hazy ones
and your ideas lazy ones
like playing nun
for gaming funds
then regarding yourself as a mature man
everyone can smell your manure ****.

After going to law school, my knowledge of law
                                        gives my legal opinion more credibility. After going to medical school, my medical opinion
       has more weight than a layman’s opinion. Yet I could
  study politics my whole life and my opinion
  will always be conflated with casual opinion.
          They say, “Well, that’s just your opinion.”.

On a certain level, political ideology is based very much on opinion.
Do you favor austerity or charity? Do you favor justice or mercy?
These fundamental philosophical questions don’t have clear answers
because of this many assume politics is completely based on opinion. There is a foundation of knowledge and introspection that must be built to functionally manifest the desires of your political ideology.

Therefore, one must determine a clear ideology
based on logic and reasoning.
One must take time to intellectually determine their priorities
and vision for the world.
Otherwise, one is unprepared for political discussion.
If one is unprepared for discussion
they’ll probably obfuscate the discourse.

My current president, Donald Trump, is a perfect example of not developing an ideology. All of his views are reactionary so it’s difficult to know his stance on any given topic. While allowing for more potential flexibility, this has negative impacts like adding needless chaos to the stock market and general uncertainty in the minds of foreign leaders less willing to conduct diplomatic action.

A former presidential candidate, Ron Paul, is a perfect example of developing an ideology. I generally know how president Paul would act; with Austrian economics and libertarianism in mind. If I agree with these concepts more than any other candidate’s, I’d feel comfortable defending his opinions because they’re concretely based in well defined political theories. This can have negative impacts when you’re ideology becomes so rigid compromise becomes impossible; I get the feeling Ron Paul would shoot the economy in the foot out of a blind faith in the free market.

   Your ideology shouldn’t be as loose as Trump’s
                     or as stubborn as Paul’s
but it’s a good idea to know what your ideology is.
Not knowing your ideology puts you in high risk
             of shouting reactionary nonsense
                     or not participating at all.

If you believe in God, it is your duty to participate. If you hope for the evolution of humanity, it is your duty to participate. All that is asked of you is to clearly understand your opinions and your arguments for your belief in them and keep an open mind. This may seem simple but there’s plenty of people who simply react to whatever happens to be going on and conflate other well developed highways with their dirt road.

They say, “Well, that’s just your opinion.”

Opinions are like *******, they’re usually ****** and nobody wants to be told how to clean theirs up, myself included. Most people live pretty clean lives anyway, but once I start to smell ******* I show them my opinion.

The weather is foggy
because the bog bleeds
like my problems lofty
making things foggy.
These problems haunt me
when the forecast is foggy.
I start to become not me
after my reflection lost me
in this hellish hot spring
where the fog is accosting
my vision’s focus and locking
until I absolutely cannot see
through this mist so foggy
my brain gets groggy
with the pain I’m dodging
blasting through the fog feed
making this innocent dog bleed
under the leaves of God’s tree
the same tree that made God leave
where an apple made things foggy.

It was another day at work
filled with pain and hurt
looking for ways to shirk
my responsibilities
because of the loneliness filling me
I wasn't that way willingly
and I saw constant reminders
so I started browsing Grindr
looking for comfort
or at least attraction
to get out of the dumpster
of my own inaction
then I saw you on there
like a solar flare
in which I was ensnared
your beauty had me impaired
so I wanted to take you to my imp lair
sending a message "Hey how's it going?"
and you actually responded
now the onus was on me to be showing
that I wasn't too despondent
so I tried to focus on the conversation
which was actually pretty nice
but then you maximized temptation
by mentioning my favorite vice
asking me if I smoke trees
I responded with ** please
you should come to Kentucky
we'll smoke until there's nothing
then turn into men *******
to which you agreed
and I was relieved
leaving work early
with different thoughts swirling
between love and ***
or a ****** hex
I hope you're not the latter
although I'm just flattered
you'd pitch to this batter
who wanted you so badly
I was willing to gladly
drive to Cincinnati
to take you back to my place
after taking a blunt to the face
this isn't a hunt or a chase
just a request for grace
which I definitely needed
after a cop pulled us over
the speed limit wasn't heeded
and oh yeah we weren't sober
made clear by the ***'s odor
so I was hoping I'd just get a ticket
and then be sent on my merry way
but then you added thorns to the thicket
by mentioning you have a warrant in play
I didn't know what to say
about the likely arrest to be made
and our total time that would wane
the cop approached and asked your name
and that's when I first heard it
Anthony
I didn't think I'd get served it
answering
a cop who would pull you out of my car
and put you away like an old guitar
I had enjoyed our time thus far
but now it seemed like a scar
so I couldn't let it end like that
in the lonely car I sat
waiting for bond to be posted
so I could be hosted
and we could get toasted
I called around for advice
but was only told to slice
that out of my life
which I couldn't accept
so I went down to the jam up jail
I hoped you hadn't left
because that would mean I failed
and could've just slept
never meeting anyone I like
because of the threat of adversity
never trying to figuratively fight
because of the depression hurting me
so I wanted to see you certainly
posting a meager bond
to give the pigs their slop
hoping I'd see the dawn
and the night would stop
they let you out
while I was in
we won our bout
and now could sin
kissing and smoking
after all the hissing and coping
you going missing had woke me
making me feel alive
for a much smoother drive
back to the Ohio side
where we got into bed
exchanging head
you rocked me to sleep
your secrets you can keep
we don't need to talk too deep
I'm just glad you got me to leap
back into my brain
I eagerly await our refrain
but don't want to be a strain
on where this is going
I have no clue
all that's worth knowing
is you erased my blues.

A colony of Atlas Stones
defends itself with heavy handedness
intercession relies on physicality
only power warrants movement
and only movement measures success
pushing what's in your way becomes a master key
to move through a locked down nation
a girdle is worn on America's underbelly
bloated by an autoimmune disease.

The Atlas Stones reproduce
tiny innocuous pellets that take an edgier form
filling up the feed trough until they're mature
enough to buzz like flies over the deceased
burrowing inside anything not made of concrete
turning their reluctant host into stone
a facsimile of a fairer, freer fossil
these stones infect everything with their heaviness
so we must remove the concrete and steel inside.

Between want and need is compulsion
between you and me there was an explosion
of wanton greed and corrosion
because you wanted me to be frozen
to keep sculpting until I was broken
but once the ice cracked and opened
I was awoken
no longer a token
you wanted me but now you don't so
you take me to your dojo
to tell me it's a no-go
while I scream 'oh no'
and drink a shot of soco
to ponder what I don't know
which is whether you're a want or a need
all I know is I never wanted to bleed.

We must be willing to compromise politically
without compromising our morality
but our morality dictates our politics
and politics indoctrinate morality
even though willingness to compromise is part of our morality
so are concepts like freedom and sovereignty and liberty
and it's up to us to decide what those words mean individually
and it's on those definitions we are unwilling to compromise.

There's a segment of the Christian fraternity
arguing vehemently to reject modernity
saying we should be one way for eternity
until it's their turn to go to the infirmary
then stop worrying about things infernally
and start rationalizing things internally.

They exacerbate Christianity's misuse
on legislating social issues
imposing their will
through force and ****
then when they see people leaving the church
they don't think it's from all the pain and hurt
they think it's a ******* problem with the music or the youth group
maybe people don't want to go somewhere that'll abuse you.

They reject modernity because modernity rejected them
and yearn for a time when society favored men
yearning for a culture that would favor them more
and share their hatred of the person next door.

They conflate traditionalism with regression
to give off the impression
they've just been taught different lessons
and are part of a harmless collection
but it's all the same **** in different packaging
in this society they've run savagely
did they think that after all that ravaging
we'd forget through apathy?

Why plunge us back into primal schisms?
Could it be they're just fans of tribalism?
They feel their side has the right numbers
yet they're rapidly diminishing
they want the giant to awaken from its slumber
for a genocide finishing.

These people need to find a better way to live
which is apparently something Jesus can give
but I'm not seeing that on the end of their shiv
pointed at me to make me not sin
so that their side can win
at something that isn't a game
I wish they'd see it the same.

They can grow a beard and work out
they may be able to dish the hurt out
but the simple phrase "reject modernity"
simply reflects their immaturity.

I live in the absence of presence
proximity filled by emptiness
I look for a god in the machine
but the schematics are held by noncompliant fingers
tightly clutching my rightful deeds
and pointing in the opposite direction.

I’m alive so I feel compelled to live but don’t know how
so when I want to have a night I’ll never forget
I get ****** up
and when I have a night I never want to remember
I get even more ****** up
I think I’m having a good time
but my memory is pretty ****** up.

But something shines through my ****** up memories
a vision of when we first met
you asked me, “What are you up to?”
I misheard you and responded, “Yeah, I’m ****** up too.”
then we talked about this ****** up zoo
and how we could help each other through.

The connection we develop engenders nightmares
I have two kinds of ****** dreams
the ones where I have *** with people I don’t want
bizarre **** like relatives and ghosts
even ghost relatives—and relative ghosts
those dreams can get pretty ****** up
but the dreams where I’m with the people I want
are factored by the power of two
and are exponentially more ****** up.

The dreams become fantasies I can’t reconcile with reality
burying me in insecurity
thinking what keeps me alive is impossible to hold onto like air
I keep wildly grasping in desperate futility
suffocating in deprivation
until eventually I can’t feel anything anymore.

You notice my weakness and attack
you’re a vampire bat
echolocating past relationships you enjoyed more
I tell you you ****** up
and now must slum with a *** instead of number one.

I keep eating up your batshit insanity
contracting your coronavirus
I just want to sleep
I feel like I’m going to die
your fever dreams are sweat submerged stress nightmares
once I start drowning I try to scream
but all that escapes me are the bubbles I live in
they float on the surface, eventually popping.

You keep calling me a clown
so I joke you can juggle my *****
with dismissive sarcasm you respond I should try stand-up
but that’s already what I’m doing
you tell me to jump off a cliff
but I already have
exasperated, you scream I should literally **** myself
but I already write of my own death every night.

You separate from me like a head from a neck
after the noose that tied us together severed our connection
I fell to the ground and realized I was still alive
and started downplaying the bounty on my head
which seems much larger when one sees it on a wanted poster.

I’m not looking for a person
I’m searching for a feeling people are capable of delivering
I don’t care where I find it as long as I do
people often ask me if I’m more attracted to men or women
I find the question somewhat annoying and I’d rather not answer
but if you forced me to choose by putting a gun to my head
that might turn me on even more.

Some people claim they speak with God
Others will try to tell them that’s just their intuition
But I think they’re both right

When I’m feeling my highest
I want to take all your pain away
and when I’m at my lowest
I want you to take all my pain away.

All that pain we take from each other
is worth the time we spend in the middle.

They're evil and edgy
Partisans pledging
Communal wedging
Without hedging

Alt right
Salt might
Halt flight
Until whites
Are the blight
Dynamite
Exploding heights
Out of sight

An extremist
Screams this
Dream wish
Of king fists
Being dished
To the fish
In his own aquarium
His subjects daring him
To callously bury them
If they are married men
Because they carry dems
So a way to parry then
Is to say they shouldn't wed
By having them condemned

Minds frozen still
Imposing will
Exposing ill
Intent to ****
For dollar bills
Expect the shills
To get their fill
In their royal mill
With soil drills
Of oil spills
On toil hills

They're usually uneducated
Which can't be understated
And can't be underrated
They're the ones that say it
With pride and hatred
Until we're berated
And never related
While those in the dark
See them as marks
To create sparks
That feed sharks
And bleed hearts

When ends justify means
They fight and scream
As a way of blowing off steam
Keeping others from the American dream
No matter what their character seems
They see people as being on teams
And hate those not part of their scene
Which they call a grass roots movement
But the grass hasn't seen any improvement
Only the doom sent
By the hollow gloom vent
Of our atmospheric dent

A torchlight
Of foresight
Affords light
In sore nights
To ignore slights
Before fights
Implore bites
Of more plights
So I store fright
With all that is trite

Yet fear is their motivator
And their mode of behavior
Searching for a savior
Of the Caucasian flavor
To be their maven slaver
To lead the craven players
To their haven layer
On the simple surface
That can be purchased
Until we live in a furnace
And the planet's a dirt pit
For fascism we flirt with
Our country turns worthless

Just because you’re oblivious to something
doesn’t mean you’re above it.

An arctic fire
Scorches the Earth
Into an entire
Frozen turf
Of no worth
Only hurt
Where death and decay
Are here to stay
In winter’s way
To my grave

The leaves are dead
Like the teens *****
Who went to bed
And woke up led
To their reluctant stead

The branches are bare
Like the love I share
With those who dare
Return my stare
Of frozen care

My friends are chill
Once they take a pill
And let the ice build
Until a giant ice hill
Freezes their light will
Seeing life as time to ****
Their shifty shoes I fill

This winter has shown
That I don’t have a home
And if I want to be known
I have to build a new phone
Or get bombed by a drone
So I stay in my zone
Of an arctic cone

I was once warm
In proper form
Until I grew horns
Like icy thorns
And my icicles
Are quite fickle
Their knife sickles
Until blood trickles
On my frigid path
Of winter’s wrath

I’m freezing to death
Until there’s nothing left
Except a societal debt
Of a temperature set
That was never met

I was fine enough on my own
and then I met you
who animated my heart of stone
then turned it blue
wondering what I'll do
when this thing is through.
I'd swim through tides of the apocalypse
just to reach your apocryphal hips
but my cacophonous wit
tells me I should probably quit
because you're better than I
so I fear you'll sever our tie
then I'll pull a lever and die.

I try not to think
I try not to sink
I try not to blink
after the Kool-Aid I drink
casts an enchantment
of life enhancement
I couldn't have planned it
so I just say **** it
flying to another planet
with an atmosphere uncertain
I can't see past this dumb curtain
made by time
my maybe mind
makes me whine
that it's not fair
that your soft hair
has me locked there
waiting for the final judgment
wishing for your sublet
guessing I'll be upset
at another lonely sunset.

Please don't mind me
I've just been alone a long time
seeing the signing
that for a home there's a long line
and I don't have a ticket
to get the biscuit
I jest I missed it
because I blessed a misfit
which stole my youth
and made me uncouth
I couldn't regroup
and then I saw you.
I feel loneliness so strongly
I search for a sense of belonging
but might be doing so wrongly
when I think that anyone on me
will provide an awning
for the fear spawning
over existential odd me
who thinks servile fawning
will leave people wanting.

I wish I could pull a ripcord
to ignore
the dim floor
implored
by inner discord
but I just described you
a conundrum it's true
you create room
for thunder and gloom
then sunder it too.

I like getting freaky
I like getting weird
I like getting *****
With your spear
But I fear
The deviation here
Will eventually steer
Me out of your sphere

I say we need to spice things up
You ask “Isn’t our life enough?”
I wish you wouldn’t call my bluff
And just get into freakier stuff

After enough deviation
There’s no reconciliation
Between our needy nations
I look for a feeding station
While I’m bleeding relation
For fleeting elation

I become attracted to what’s different
Unfortunately you will always be you
So I become insistent
On ******* every animal in this zoo

One at a time doesn’t suffice
I join threesomes and foursomes
The ****** only get more dumb
Making me lose my consortium
Because of my sore thumb
Shooting a ***** gun
Every time I score numb

There’s nothing wrong with being a deviant
But that’s just one of the ingredients
It’s unhealthy to keep feeding it
Until you think *** is meaningless
The only reason you’re believing this
Is because you’re treating bliss
Like a hedonist

I’m a snowflake falling through night’s mute darkness
landing in the prismatic puddle of gasoline
left by the fumes of your car’s exhaust
collecting on top of the gravelly grime
of an Amazon fulfillment center
where the snow settles but never sticks
in the ascending puddles behind your car.

If alcohol is a crutch for one's brain
then narcotic pills are a candy cane
not if you're looking to manage pain
(although those intentions can change)
but to hop on the sugar rush train
just know once the pez dispenser is drained
you'll have to walk all the same
after the sugar train sugar crashes
and you must escape the sugar ashes
of a powder overload
that people confuse with blow because you explode
once your sweet tooth is exposed
you can barely speak because that's all that's left of your teeth
and your only way of relief
is atop a pixie stick peak
surrounded by a cocoa ocean
perpetuating turbulent motion
so you look for sugarless lifesavers
like that's asking a light favor
after you spited neighbors
over candy flavors
but now you need their help to walk
they'll think you're nothing but talk
because you thought your cane was the kind used by pimps
but take it away and watch how you limp.

A sword stuck in its sheath
is used as a cudgel to strike the innocent
until a hardened circle has formed
and an iron grip developed.

A shell stuck in its chamber
fires unexpectedly
avoiding suitable targets
and striking unintended victims.

A missile launches from its silo
without a target
going straight into space
never looking at the striking planet left behind.

All of the aggressive goats fight
To determine the king of the hill
But once rain starts pouring
They seek shelter together
Leaving the victor in the rain

Sometimes I think about going back to ******
but always end up realizing I can’t
because that world would break me once more
because I’m too soft
I guess everyone is too soft
especially when they start using
many think they’ll be a bulb of light
illuminating a dim and darkened room
until the deader bulbs take advantage
draining the once bright bulbs
until they’re fragile shells.

I'm haunted by a ghost
who won't text back
I need it the most
but it only gives black
this ghost from a heart attack
leads me down a disheartened track
of perilous cracks
so I can't relax.

Your Danny Phantom
threw our new tandem
off like Drew Stanton
giving me a true tantrum
tramping to the netherworld
to find a bed of pearls
instead of twirls
in dead end whirls.

I stare at people talking
in my mind I'm throwing ****
sounds like the gun cocking
right before the trigger flick
killing me quick
in a ghost's grip
instilling gross and sick
voices telling me to quit.

I want to go to the astral world
to be in your presence
I want to be your astro girl
then extinguish your essence
to get my revenge
after getting incensed
from the haunting intense
of a ghost with malicious intent.

Your apparition isn't an aberration
plenty have seen the line of demarcation
between relationship adjacent
and my next replacement
so I hide in my basement
people wonder where my face went
a ghost set it to its blank placement
to cover up the rank grave scent.

The spirits of the undead
notice that I'm unfed
repeating that I'm *****
until I've done bled
they cackle with triumph
after I've run
for someone
to see the sun.

So go chill on your ghost ship
with your ghost clique
whose locust lips
give you focused hips
just stop haunting me
I view recovery dauntingly
because for a while I've got to see
every person as wild ghosts mocking me.

Echoes of words never said reverberate
through the desolate rotundra of my mind
encapsulating stabbing nothingness
featuring the limits of chaotic kismet
until the shade creeps into my eyes
like bubonic wraiths scouring the globe
searching for cravings, craving the search
discovering urchins and serpents alike
in the ocean that now fills my eyes
I watch a giant squid shoot ink
and articulate itself away
swimming to the bottom of my retina
where everything is flatter to withstand the pressure
bottom feeders suckle at the **** of the depths
pervading my flattened vision
swirling in a frenzy over pieces of my eyes floating downward
forming an inescapable black mass
trapping me in its rotating world
until a bioluminescent olm wanders through
trying to reach the surface
its light inspires me to follow
like I could grow to one day glow
in the sheltered cove of my eyes
the salamander rescued me to
where the shade still exists
with feeders beneath
but all those do anymore
is make my sanctuary feel like home.

Why is God killing me
So willingly?
He’s filling me
With a ***** disease
Brought by biting fleas
Who do as they please
Until I’m on my knees
Begging for release

Sneezing wheezing
My phlegm is breezing
Through air that’s freezing
Trying to teach me
To act more pleasing
Can I kick this sickness
Brought by wickedness?
Or will it punch me
Into lunch meat?

To be in His vicinity
Is to have divinity
So why does He get rid of me?
Could it be the viscosity
Of all my atrocities?
Or the viciousness
Of my wishes wished?
Or my visceral
Scissor hold
On growing old?
Despite my reverence
I fear his benevolence
Involves my severance

The difference between dying and trying
Has me in bed crying
Fever frying
Medicine buying
From salesmen lying
Saying add pills
Of Advil
And mad will
To not be ill
My plague remains still
On Sisyphus’ hill

Can God cure me
Of this absurdity?
Almost certainly
But by hurting me
I learn to see
He uses pain to teach
The one thing that’ll reach
Through the ******* I preach

My gut round
Shuts down
Lust found
That must drown
In a dust cloud
Of an allergic assault
To an absurdist result
Of catching a cold
To examine my soul

He gives a heart attack
To the heart I lack
As part of the pack
Ignoring God’s path
And finding His wrath
Once He chooses me
To lose and bleed
The flu He feeds
To pull the weeds
That ghouls breed

So cough medication selection
Becomes a time for self reflection
At least until my health inspection
Shows no feverish detections
Of the feeblest direction
When the evilest infection
Is joining Satan’s section