Should a poet consider
what their work looks like in portrait mode
and adjust their lineation accordingly?
Or should the responsibility be on the reader to use landscape mode?

Some people think animals don't feel emotions
perhaps out of a lack of empathy
or a backlash against anthropomorphism
either way I have a hard time agreeing
because dogs seem ******* when they growl
and there has to be a mechanism to trigger that.

Factors like language and cognition
differentiate humans and animals
so I don't think a dog wonders why it's relaxing on the floor
while a buck's head hangs from the wall.
But I do.

I wonder what goes through the mind of a doe
as it watches its fawn get hit by a car
it may not feel the same depression as us
but it had an instinctual obligation
that has been abruptly removed
there must be some friction in its mind
between what is and should be.

I've felt that friction for animals before
like when I was at my friend's house
he saw a big spider (by Kentucky standards)
and crushed it
dozens of tiny spiders crawled from its corpse
shocked and disgusted
my friend started stomping on all of them
as I watched I felt bad for the spider
she was a mother
that failed her natural duty
due to forces much larger than her
all it took was the wrong place and wrong time
for the result to be crushing failure.

I wonder if animals are more like humans
or if humans are more like animals
because there are plenty of people
that make me wonder if they feel any emotions.

I’m a ship prepared to sail
Through aerial gales
To live a fairytale
Above scary jails
That sadly prevail
Below my trail

I look below me
To see hatred growing
While the lights are strobing
From the guns they’re loading
That are my foreboding
If I ever start slowing
I’ll hit the ground lowly
And the bullets flowing
Will get to know me

But I have protectors
Against those who hector
They watch my vector
And disarm the projectors
My protectors are my friends
My protectors are my colleagues
And my flight will never end
As long as they will follow me

Enemy insurgents
Become a disturbance
Creating turbulence
As they herd the dense
Until they’re furious
And shoot the breeze
With RPGs
Until my army sees
They’re harming me

My friends flank me in jet fighters
To protect me from the assault
And my squad keeps getting wider
By adding those I exalt
I fly in the clouds
With my friends all around
Breaking the barrier of sound
While never going down

Foes shoot missiles
Of dismissal
With words visceral
To make me miserable
But my valiant defenders
Shoot down the offenders
With consolation rendered
In their care so tender

We employ evasive maneuvers
To avoid the pervasive losers
And the invasive abusers
All of whom are cruisers
Flying low
Dying slow
Blinding snow
Lines their nose

But the enemy fleet is approaching
Our territory they’re encroaching
While we’re somberly toasting
Seeing the numbers they’re boasting
We try to fight
With all our might
But day turns to night
As I gain a suffering plight

The hovering helicopters
Shoot distracting flares
With tantalizing offers
Leaving my targeting impaired
So I veer off course
Like a lost horse
In a frost force
Of top torque

Once my squad is separated
The enemy is elevated
Showing the hell that waited
While my friends designated
Me as venerated
Like Satan irrigated
The peers I hated
Just being patient
Until I use a spaceship

The demons chase
Me into space
Until there’s no trace
Of the Devil’s face
But I can’t eject now
With space all around
While my crew starts to leave
Between asteroids I weave
While trying to grieve
My group disintegrating

They float into the nether
Quiet as a feather
As my ties are severed
They float away forever
And I start drifting alone
Drifting becomes my home
Drifting into the dark unknown
Depression drifts into my bones

Fasten your seatbelts
For the ice the heat melts
Will be dealt
We’ll receive welts
From Earth’s belt
Her pain will be felt

Crazy cancer
Lazy dancers
Don’t have answers
But as enchanters
Conjure banter
Of absurd slander
And crowd panders
To darken lanterns

Flooding the gate
Money to make
Muddies the stakes
So they act fake
To catch a break
Becoming snakes
With stunning rakes
For nature’s ****

Carbon emission
Cancer remission
In need of incisions
To heal our decisions
Yet denied permission
By a wealthy commission
Utilizing superstition
And pure fiction
To ensure friction
Fueling oil addiction

The hurricanes
Assuring pain
Are curing stains
Of carbon shame
Until what remains
Stays in nature’s lane

I hide in dreams
From Poseidon’s screams
At polluted streams
From brutish teams
Of the crudest greed

To break our code of mourning
We need the noble forming
A case for global warming
Against the vocal storming
Of the slogan storing
***** adoring
Public scorning

We need Atlas here
To fix the atmosphere
As those here
Impose fear
Against peers

Their success equals destruction
So acting responsibly is obstruction
Pushing the planet to an eruption
Of cataclysmic disruption
Due to cynical dysfunction

A tidal wave
Of vital days
To fix our maze
Sits in a haze
While we’re slaves
Digging graves
For the brave
In their way

I experience immobilizing aches throughout my life
I experience headaches
That make me not want to think
I experience stomachaches
That make me not want to move
I experience heartaches
That make me not want to feel
All of these aches steer me away from living my life
And the only aspirin is living that fleeting life as I veer off course

I’m a performing circus bear
Traveling the world with my master
Who treats me as an equal
So we are comfortable companions
And make an amazing team
Performing spectacular shows for rabid audiences
Who don’t appreciate our effort
They try to antagonize and diminish us
But we remain stoic
Until today
A heckler grabs my ear
My feral nature gets the best of me
So I snap at them
I instantly realize my mistake
And so does my master
He shakes his head and walks away
Leaving me heartbroken
Without my only friend and protector
My overwhelming regret and sorrow make no difference
I’m reminded of where I stand with humans
As they euthanize me

A butterfly hangs from a tree
inside its formative cocoon
a cold front blankets the ecosystem
bringing predatory desperation.
A spider escaping certain death
crawls in the cocoon to survive.

Silk womb Christ-like chrysalis
the spider is an honorary pupa
finding safety with another species.
The time of snow angels passes
frozen doors thaw revealing freedom.

The butterfly an involuntary good Samaritan
nightmares of treachery tinge its antenna
fears of graceful charity being repaid by the ungrateful imperial
shake the inside of the inside of the inside.
Moment of truth, of reckoning
will the arachnid drifter show gratitude
or will nature conquer itself?
In order for flight to emerge
we hopefully rely on the benign gratefulness of the venomous.

I don’t know who I am
I don’t even feel like a person
maybe that’s why I enjoy *** so much
to receive attraction
a validation of existence
proving a planet exists through its moon’s orbit.

The bass player for Korn
Reginald “Fieldy” Arvizu
Plays in a distinctive style
Using the slap bass technique
By down tuning the bass guitar
To the point where there is enough slack in the strings
That they hit the fretboard while playing
Slapping the bass
He also increases the treble significantly
Accentuating a recurring clicking sound throughout their recordings
Some people view this positively
I feel it gives the music more texture
Like putting a little pepper on the song
But some hate it
They say it makes Korn’s music unenjoyable
And annoying
A little clicking noise
Makes their music instantly horrible

For some people it’s never good enough
They will always be listening for your small clicking noises
And demand you change at their whim
Ordering you to tighten your strings until they snap
They say Fieldy *****
They say Fieldy is a ****** bassist
While never putting out any content themselves
So they can throw rocks from the dark
Forcing one to ask themself
Who am I making this art for?
The fickle and ignorant masses
Or the jaded and pretentious elitists?
The answer must be neither
Art must be made for the self
With the hope that others will be able to relate
And whatever your craft is
Some people will appreciate the hard work and dedication
And some people will hear a small clicking sound
You just have to slap their face
With the way you slap your bass

Get out of the bed
I can’t shock you to life
you’re not Frankenstein’s monster
because you’re no longer Frankenstein’s
after townspeople pitched a fork in the road
and spun you like a windmill
you chose the path of hellfire
burning from the death of innocence.

Standing on a narrow bridge
above heavy waters
holding a bag of rocks in my hand
rocks collected during vacations and at bus stations
are dropped to see the splash they make
for a moment, there is peace and stillness in the chaotic maelstrom
as the water separates to avoid impact
like Moses parting the Sea of Reads
the rocks only feel air on the way to the ground
the satisfying splash turns out to be a disappointing thud.

I stand in the mud
To guard from the flood
Of parasitic bugs
That try to steal blood
But I’m not an evil vet
So I try to use mosquito nets
That can’t match the torpedoes set

The passing of time
Develops nasty grime
Through blasting crimes
As the lasting mimes
Understand ***** dimes
Fall to those in line

After a while the painted soil
Becomes black from sainted oil
Acquired through tainted toil
To the wealthy go the spoils
Saying it’s healthy to be royal
While our dying planet boils

A tar pit
Carpet
Car drift
Scar gift
Guard shift
Charred rift
Bars lift
To heaven’s gate
So instead I deflate
To a second rate
Panicked state
As the Devil’s mate

Drowning in quicksand
Certainly won’t fix man
But I’m out of tricks planned
To cross this split span
That’s a crypt can
That clips lambs
Who withstand
The whip slams
In this strict land
Where kicks ram
The sick ******
Who picked scams

This tower of dirt
Built by our hurt
Has crumbling girth
So is it really worth
All the pain we birthed?
Like a plague on Earth
Where we play the perp
There’s no way this works

I need to find a job
But I’m told I’m flawed
No one will ever applaud
When I’m so far from God
So I hate them and Him
I start selling bags of trim
To become more grim
Than both of their whims

I turn teens into fiends
With no financial means
Forgetting their dreams
To buy my beans
They ransack homes
For permanent loans
Of turbulent tones
To pay my bill
And get their fill
Of pills that thrill
Leaving them still

My cardiac attack
******* packed
Cadillac
Drifts for twelve hour shifts
Driving families to cliffs
Of drug addled rifts
Until I’m mentioned
In interventions
Bringing attention
To my dimension

The cops are behind me
Can they find me
Through the facade I’m designing?
I’m a drug dealer hiding
From society’s bindings
I don’t make a single sound
Once they release the hounds
Searching for those I’ve bound
In my lost and found
They’re just doing their jobs
And so am I
Playing the odds
For a piece of the pie

I’m addicted to the danger
And exploiting strangers
To channel my anger
Into buying a hangar
But white blood cells have been released
Trying to cure my malignant disease
With aggressively insistent antibodies
That won’t let me do as I please

Should I listen to my town
When they’ve always had frowns
And always let me down?
I turn around
Showing them my back
And the piece I pack
If they choose to attack
The bodies will stack

There’s nothing they can say
I’m entrenched in my ways
I can’t see through the haze
Of this capitalist maze
Where I was raised
To look out for myself
By building my wealth
And ignoring the health
Of those hit by my belt

Government secrets undermine democracy
in the same way lies undermine honesty
by circumventing accountability
at the expense of truth and credibility.
As citizens we should have a say in decisions
which is impossible when they’re clandestine.
Proponents say that’s why we have a representative democracy
we choose who handles our secerets
which is fair enough I guess
but once the secrets start *******
how are we supposed to know who should represent us
when we don’t even know what they’re doing?

They say it’s darkest before the dawn
failing to mention dawn only lasts a few moments
before light illuminates what we’ve become in the darkness—
dumb and heartless.

Dawn is used to clean oil off penguins
who are grateful to wash the muck away
they feel they are able to keep trying
only to end up feeding sea lions.

We used to fear a red dawn
which gave way to a red dawn
the sun goes down on my right
in America’s tumultuous twilight.

After the dawn of man
we waited for the dawn of reason
only to find the dawn at hand
marks the end of that season.

Hockey is the only major sport not based around fighting that you can fight in
And not get ejected from the game
The referees just give each player five minute penalties
Some players will use this to their advantage
And try to pick fights with players more valuable than them
Creating an equalizing equation
Raising their value to the player they eliminated
And bringing that player down to their level

This place is inhospitable
Misery is the daily ritual
And pain is habitual
Ugliness the visual
I beg for early retirement
In this deadly environment
Where the entire tent
Is a sulfur fire vent

I deal with harsh fellows
While in a marsh mellow
Their dark hell glow
Makes a swell show
But it pervades the air
And light can’t be shared
I foolishly use a flare
To illuminate the lair
Full of grizzly bears
And nifty mares
With shifty stares
Gifting tears
While no one cares
So I retreat to the dark
Of this crime-ridden park

The mud starts to stack
Once the swamp is black
For it’s vision I lack
So mosquitoes attack
Stealing my blood
With microscopic bites
They come in a flood
In the absence of light
After I lost my might
Attached to my sight
Parasites took flight
Like killer kites
In the cover of night
Millions of mites
Entered the fight

The bugs grew bolder
So I grew colder
A subzero soldier
Environment molder
I sparked it
Arctic
Killing the invasive insects
By lowering the heat index
But they leave a heated hex
Leaving me vexed
By the ghostly hiss
Of loneliness
Hoping bliss
Can coexist
With frigid fists
Is a ******’s wish

This tundra provides no nourishment
Only death’s encouragement
I need heaven’s surrogates
To come sing my dirges
Until a flower flourishes
Granting my cure wishes
By eliminating the vicious
Cold air biting malicious
But the locusts in ditches
Start reclaiming their riches
And this endless well
Of go to hell
Show and tell
Rings a bell
Starting a new round
As bugs in the ground
Are lost and found

May 5, 2021 Madison Square Garden
Washington Capitals vs. New York Rangers
there is a tense atmosphere after a fight
between these two teams in the game prior
the Rangers are looking for revenge
against the Capitals and the NHL
and are only interested in fighting
but there is a quieter storyline developing as well:
TJ Oshie returning to the Capitals lineup
after being out for a handful of games
while grieving the loss of his father
so nothing was expected from him except getting reacquainted
with the game his father coached him to play
between baseball, football, basketball, and golf
and pow wowing with their native Ojibwe tribe
while living with NHL forward Henry Boucha
to the point TJ called him coach instead of dad.

With all the history and backstories
the actual game had to start at some point
and it started with three fights in the first second
there would be more fighting throughout the game
TJ Oshie had never been too interested in fighting
he was interested in playing hockey and that's what he did
in a game where the other team was trying to
teach the league a lesson
by attacking the integrity of the sport
TJ Oshie taught a lesson
by maintaining his own integrity
by playing the game his father taught him to play
instead of playing into the negativity and violence around him.

The first period had six fights and even more penalties but no goals
the game had become a sideshow to the sideshow
but Oshie came out of the intermission determined nonetheless
scoring a goal in the first twelve seconds of the second period
it was clear he was thinking of his father as he wiped his face
some of his teammates offered their own brands of support
and then he went to the faceoff circle for play to resume
but had clearly angered the Rangers
who would challenge him to a fight
that Oshie would turn down
to the boos and jeers of a rabid New York audience
but that decision paid off
when Oshie scored the second goal of the game
midway through the second period
and although this lacked the emotion of the first goal
it was a productive way for Oshie to pay tribute while playing.

By the third period things had calmed down
enough people had been thrown out of the game
that both sides didn't want to push their luck
and were on considerably better behavior
and seemed like they were just waiting for the game to end
but TJ Oshie's legs had been moving all night
and they continued moving
pumping through pain and loss
scoring one more goal wasn't going to bring anybody back
but this wasn't about resurrection
nor was this about scoring
this was about being
somebody who puts in maximum effort
and one more goal came as a result
creating Oshie's fourth career hat trick (he has five now)
and as a couple lonely hats fluttered to the ice
Oshie was embraced by his team
congratulating his accomplishment
admiring his resiliency and capability
before returning to their spots on the bench or ice
leaving Oshie alone on the bench
putting his head down
to silently reflect
on Henry Boucha
on the Ojibwe tribe
and on the game he played tonight
and the way he played it
and the coach who gave him all of those things.

This isn't happening to me
I'm shackled and I bleed
So to satisfy a greed
Of a comfort need
I plant a seed
Of belief
That my grief
Is beneath

I made this association
With disassociation
For an invocation
Of correlation
For no relation
Just coronation
By the ***** nation
Telling me placation
Is a fine creation

So when my friends make mistakes
I write them off as sad fakes
Ignoring my own bad breaks
Just focusing on the stakes
And what I can take

The pinnacle
Of a clinical
Cynical
Individual
Divisible
By pivotal
Pigeonholes
Is in my scold

Gold grace boldness
Replaced by coldness
To face the soulless
Faceless foe's nest
I aced the code's test
By using a clone blessed
With choosing a tone less
Bruising than a stony desk
Falling on my bony chest
Yet now that I'm alone I confess
My life's become a grown mess

Because now I never know when
Associates are abominable snowmen
So I hide where there are no men
In a computer glow den
Fearing my deserted glen
For in the Serengeti
I don't fear a yeti
But the pain that's steady
I'm feeling already

I try to stick wide
Until a riptide
Grips my
Ship's side
Flipped by
Sins I'm
Pinned by
With no one close enough to help
Not even my disconnected self

My disassociated sloping
Is misappropriated coping
For a misplaced hoping
Of a fire stoking
To cease bloating
So I keep floating
As a blind Boeing
Free fall flowing
Mind not growing
To ease my knowing
Of where I'm going

Kentucky nights bring stillness
but not silence

tranquility shrouds creatures of the night
their symphony betrays that.

Grasshoppers and crickets chirp ceaselessly
microorganisms making music of magnitude

introducing dusk to night
with unintelligible cheering.

Timid critters make their presence known
using the anonymity of darkness

raccoons and opossums wail in the distance
their cries aren’t a call to action but a wild expression

they could be dying—they could be giving birth
it’s always one or the other.

Vulnerable bellowing brings out the dogs
for a canine crescendo

projecting power into the air
raised hackles raise spontaneous barking

echoing through the ravine
alerting newts and neighbors alike.

The noise is paused as dogs are brought inside
the faint murmur of scolding replaces them

like an aria without an aside
the air is still again

until a pack of coyotes complete the satz
finding their prey as the night’s finale.

Born the son of man
made in his image
losing humanity
following the ways of man
I bet my life
putting it all on black
until the red filtered through
and I became a man.

Being a man is effortless
but being two men is impossible
getting through to men somewhere in between
men mourning every day storming
incapable of sight after being dehumaneyesed
men must come together to make man
palliation for a lifelong abortion.

Vultures perch on my body
saying "we've got a live one here"
devouring my finger off the pulse
their tasteless tongues
receive no sustenance
from the known nothingness
of the cycle of life.

The price of membership is dismemberment
paid for with pieces
that are swallowed whole by the hole
man puts in his head
donning the cloak of fatherhood
concealing the void while claiming purpose
making someone in their image
before dying as the son of man.

Preacher sees in black and white
So preacher sees he’s right
Justified by God’s light
To judge on sight

Preacher says secular music is evil
Not meant for holy people
He’s not even talking about Slayer
Or Jay-Z rapping about being a player
He uses Led Zeppelin as an example
When more relevant options are ample
My musical taste is trampled
Like some shameful scandal

He tells me not to listen to Crazy Train
So I think he has a lazy brain
That didn’t listen to what Ozzy was saying
That song wasn’t about foxy ladies
Or boxing babies
Or buying a Mercedes
Just diagnosing the rabies
Of a species in training

If I don’t listen
How can I help?
It sounds like a mission
To focus on myself
Instead of pain that is felt
By those who have welts
That kind of life seems reductive and boring
When outside it’s storming
And everyone ignores me
The music is God performing
Just for me

Preacher wants to delete
The musical elite
Until only gospel plays on repeat
At that point I’ll take a seat
Saying that’s neat
But I’m looking for more
Like opinions on war
And the dominion formed
Through judgmental scorns
That leaves our culture torn

The church is a microcosm of society
With the preacher dictating propriety
Saying ignore the secular entirely
To not live so direly

I found the divide between the secular and religious
When both take their culture to an extent prodigious
They start acting vicious
Once they’re comfortable in their niches

I was on an even keel
that a thief came along to steal
his name is anything that makes me feel
like I got the raw end of a deal
shifting my focus
to the biting locust
that takes my attention
poisoning intentions
with toxic tension.

I want to drive all night
I want to drive into a wall
I wouldn't be surprised if I fight
or curl up in a ball
curl up until I'm small
enough to escape the free-for-all
that locks me in frustration cages
a prison where the maelstrom rages
after I failed for ages
to calm my anger through life's stages.

I feel so guilty
I feel so bad afterwards
maybe someone could **** me
so I wouldn't feel so mad afterwards
but it's the bad actor's turn
so I'm glad that you're hurt
when I say what you're worth
I should be abstaining
from being so angry
but my stinger stang me
so now I'm framing
arguments for blaming
others who tried to save me.

I become competitively hateful
purposefully distasteful
counterproductive and wasteful
completely ungrateful
for the life I've been given
because of anger I'm driven
to cause endless schisms
and needless collisions
I need my volition
to be wrestled back from my anger
before my reflection is a sinister stranger.

I need a reprieve
to help me retrieve
what makes me see
a better way to be
but my sedentary spree
makes that impossible to receive
when I'm unwilling to find help
my brain begins to melt
giving frustration welts
beaten by the belt
of my own craze
and its violent haze
I wish to see the end of days
of my insane displays
that'll be forever ingrained
in the minds I've maimed.

I thought your love for me was a form of animal husbandry
but after two humps
you became the camel that broke the straw’s back.

I want an exclusive relationship
but I don’t know why
I try to tell myself I don’t want a disease
or that cheating would prove you don’t love me
but if I’m being honest with myself
I’m afraid you’ll find somebody better
either better at ***
or better at caring
or better financially
whatever it takes to be better enough
to make me an unacceptable option
and our relationship an exclusionary one.

Life is about running in circles
And making those circles as big as possible
But I only run with the hurtful
And my circle is an obstacle
I must hurdle
To live optimal
But I hide like a turtle
In my tortoise shell
Sort of hell
Where a flood fell
Filling the blood well
That is my circular cell

My route to south
Roundabout
Gives a frown devout
And I can’t get out
When the other drivers block me
In this game of circular hockey
The other skaters try to knock me
Until I’m not me

The difference is stark
Now I’m a circling shark
Looking for prey to eat
To join in my defeat
I tell myself I enjoy pain that’s visceral
Because I’m so miserable

After all my sinning
The circle is winning
As my head is spinning
From a hurricane
Ensuring pain
In my fury brain
With an impossible game
To tornado tame
The circling drain

So I find this circular saw
Has a surplus of flaws
Living by primal laws
I use tiger claws
To follow lion laws
While they gnash their ****** jaws
I just look down at my circular paws
Wishing I wasn’t following frauds

My life is an O
I don’t know
Where to go
I follow the flow
In a circular mode
My life is a 0
So I look for a hero
I only find fear though
Making me veer low

After countless searches
I find circles of purpose
That can’t be purchased
With something like money
But a way of existing
That demand I stop running
And I stop resisting
Fear grips me
As changes trip me
As my new way strips me
Which was part of its gifting
To end my circle sifting
With a cross it lifts me
To end my drifting

In the Bible, Jesus was half man half God
But did he know this to a certainty?
At one point he was a baby that needed to learn how to walk
So he apparently didn’t always know everything
Did he re-learn he was God?
Did he implicitly understand so until he knew?
Did he ever know to a certainty that he was God?
I’d like to think not
I’d like to think God used Jesus to show us how to behave
But we’d know how to behave if we had God’s omniscience
I’d like to think Jesus was given infinite wisdom
But not infinite knowledge
To show us how to act in a manner that is attainable
Yet still seemingly impossible
Forgiving others even as they tortured him to death

I live in the drain
With runoff rain
That unlocked pain
Inside of my brain
That’s a dying flame
From mighty shame

This life is draining
Never obtaining
The proper training
Or someone explaining
Something worth retaining
As time continues waning

I live life in the gutter
When my relation to others
Is either finding a lover
Or running for cover
No middle ground under
My path quaking asunder

My life is leeched
And washed in bleach
As I drain what I preach
Focusing on what others teach
So I may one day reach
A tranquil beach

They drained my spirit
Because they fear it
But now can’t hear it
Or see its appearance
Since its draining clearance
After outside interference

My energy sapped
From their attack
I join the pack
Not looking back
Down the swirling drain
Used to put me in chains
Becoming my barrier bane
That carries the pain
Of having nothing to gain
For I can’t handle the strain
Of living life in the drain

If I’m always ashamed of the things I’ve done
Should I always be ashamed of the things I do?

In the book of Genesis
Joseph, son of Jacob
Made a prophecy based on the pharaoh's dream
He determined there would be seven years of abundance
Followed by seven years of famine
Joseph told the pharaoh to stockpile resources
By taxing one fifth of his subjects' harvest every year
To prepare for the impending hardship
So that they may live and not die
And during that time of famine
Egypt remained powerful
Because of their divine foresight and communal mentality
But what I wonder about that process is:
During the abundance
Did the Egyptians complain about the new tax?
Did they say it was a tyrannical government overreaching?
And during the famine
Did they feed on the fruits of frugality
While remembering the contributions that saved their nation?

I wish I could tell certain people
That they cause me great pain
But if I did I fear they would leave me
Because they don’t want to hurt me
Which makes me love them
Causing me great pain

Constantly confounded
monsters have mounted
problems I've counted
groveling grounded.

The constant confusion
from deficit delusions
create definite illusions
of excrement infusion.

The continuous questioning
can be quite deafening
lessening
the best of me.

I use a thought shield
so I cannot feel
like the locked steel
of stopped wheels.

F in the chat
for the death in my hat
I'm left with a lack
of discerning tact.

I'm living a lie
by not living with why
but idiot I
just sits down and cries.

I haplessly hope for a lucky guess
to get me out of this ******* mess
but I haven't seen nothing yet
except my own lonely death.

I need my employer
more than they need me
but our employers need us
way more than we need them.

What is Free File?
Not someone sexually attracted to the inexpensive, that's a freephile.
Not the potions you start Diablo with, those are free vials.
Not a useful new shower pan, that's pre-tiled.
Free File is a deal between the government
and tax preparation companies like H&R Block
for the government to not create its own tax prep software
this software could be released for free
and the uniformity would benefit tax processing
but this would hurt—maybe destroy— the tax prepping industry.

The government capitulated... obviously.
The government asked for a concession from the tax preppers:
offer free tax prep to people in lower tax brackets
but clients are marks for siphoning
and the poor contain the largest pool of marks
so of course these financial advisors did everything they could
to hide financially beneficial information from their clients
of course Intuit just got in trouble for hiding TurboTax Free File
adding code to block it from Google and other search engines.

What is Free File?
A capitalist's answer to subverting capitalism
their product is antiquated
so they anchor down society
so it doesn't pass them by
multitudes of businessmen halt progress for selfish gain
automation frees us from soul-draining work we need to live
to pay bills to shysters who nickel and dime us.

In this age of hypercapitalism
where entire industries are built upon
lobbying the government to make progress illegal
the government's solution
is to ask these capitalists to sell their product for free.

There is an objective truth
we all live through
that doesn't always give you
the answers you want to hear
which is always a fear
but we persevere
and adapt to the new information
or ignore it for mind incarceration
and see how this can tear apart a nation
of usefully dumb
and emotionally numb
people stockpiling guns.

The deniers and deceivers
give birth to true believers
spreading indoctrination fever
like broken breeders
following Loki leaders
claiming the Earth is flat
Covid is whack
white is better than black
commanding to attack
the different ilk
like Harvey Milk
their army built
only blood spilt.

This mind state
might make
the crime rate
climb great
when murderers believe that they're saviors
because the oppressed are framed as slavers
making mass shootings answer the prayers
of lambs led astray
guns, god, and grenades
pave our tumultuous grave.

After harmlessly crossing your border
          you take our friendship hostage
guarding your perimeter with sandbags of arbitrary etiquette
a no man's land of manners separates us
   you snipe from your defensive position
              so I retreat and start strategizing.
Consulting my generals to discuss your tactics
  they advise me to start stockpiling weapons
                and to start looking for weaknesses.

There is a counteroffensive to your intentions.
            While you were destroying my satcoms
a successful infiltration of your command center was accomplished.
Once your defenses were understood
           your flanks appeared vulnerable.
                      Blind spots were revealed.

You only sign a treaty once your resources start depleting
then you ignore the rules I'm reading to give me a beating.
          So I'm building up my arsenal and
enriching my uranium in this centrifuge
                             where we spin in circles.
My nuclear option is prepared and capable.
                  Pacifism is more appealing than violence
     but when you try to erase who I am I must take a stand.

Armed with an ability to attack
I get a warhead on my shoulders
               found from old schematics
you shared with me while I fought your enemies.
               They were never thrown away
now they're dusted off and revisited
to make your walls crumble
and incinerate you flag.

Your nation starts hiding from what they were once confiding
                              after my nukes obliterate your infrastructure.
Rebels and runners fill fallout shelters and basement bunkers
                                         hiding from the radioactivity in the air.

Everyone's death equals success proving I'm best
        so I develop a permanent wartime economy
                                      and fire missiles mercilessly.
There's no difference between fighters and civilians
             because some insurgents are chameleons
                                      so I **** them by the millions.
                        The more weapons I get
                        the more needless death
                        until the only nations left standing
are those that have stockpiled weapons of their own.

We’re all born in the same place
Ourselves
And we all run the same race
To hell

Born into a world already turning
My feet start urgently burning
Before my brain begins churning
I ignore what I’m learning
For my movement yearning

Now that I’m of a reactionary fashion
It’s time for social interaction
I’m told to pick a faction
That’ll be my infallible bastion
I’ll defend with blind passion

My need to know more
Brought the conquistador
Who had the keys to my door
With no reason implored
He beat me to the floor

He comes from society
To check my propriety
Conquering through anxiety
Or straight up fighting me
Until the pain starts piling
From his constant defiling

I’ve made a million mistakes
So I don’t deserve any breaks
But all he does is take
Everything at stake
My life he shakes
To make me fake

Through the storm
He screams conform
Until my soul is torn
After I adorn
His demon horns

I adopted his impersonal sensation
So to avoid my temptations
I commit self immolation
For the hellish integration
Of society’s placation

But he keeps demanding more
He keeps demanding war
And me to be ******
Until I’m not sure
If I can be cured
Or even endure
When they obscure
The path of the pure
With their malice lure

The safety of sedating
Keeps me from hating
So life becomes waiting
Avoiding their blading
And incision trading
Which is why I’m delaying
And the conquistador is staying

I can’t wake up
After I ate up
The tryptophan
Cryptogram
Sold to man
Turning ******
On the lamb
From the sham
Of Uncle Sam

Alex Smith is a quarterback
more importantly a husband, son, and father
who is cut no sort of slack
in a sport of slaughter.

West coast offense
almost always softens
someone in the pocket
used to quick tosses.

A deserved demotion to backup
made his life increasingly harder
all of the mistakes and bad luck
called for a new start for the starter.

Washington by way of San Francisco
he wasn't high up as far as the list goes
Alex Smith got his wish though
and was back in the fishbowl.

Alex Smith was used in
a game against Houston
and was rolled into a compound fracture
from a double defensive back compactor.

His trip to the hospital
wasn't quite optimal
and it kept getting worse
opening the door to a hearse.

The doctors detected
the wound was infected
Alex had become septic
with bacteria interjected.

Blood pressure dropping
and a fever rising
you know he wasn't flopping
by the way he was writhing.

The leg was turning black
and developing huge blisters
the knowledge they lacked
to heal the maimed mister.

His wife was worried
so were the physicians
to surgery they hurried
on a life saving mission.

The doctors discovered the issue
was necrotizing fasciitis
infecting skin and muscle tissue
like a black King Midas.

Daily debridement
helped with askew alignment
but the bone still looked like a trident
and the infection was the only assignment.

Should they take the leg while they can cut below the knee?
Is wanting to live your life a form of greed?
Does a steed consider its ambulatory needs?
Alex just follows the doctor's lead.

Eight debridements leave the tibia completely exposed
but the necrotizing fasciitis is gone
yet once one's legs explode
how can they move on?

Replacement skin comes from the quad
despite the risk of failure
the doctors took over for God
as epidermic tailors.

Intense physical therapy
is better than sitting scarily
or holding onto life barely
so Alex proceeded merrily.

Eventually healing
getting back to wheeling
this game didn't end in kneeling
when there was extra time to be stealing.

He was told he wouldn't play anymore
he was told he'd lose his leg
now the doctors have nothing to say anymore
and he's only looking ahead.

Playing with no team name
it was definitely no dream game
two teams that were three and seven
but for one quarterback this was heaven.

Two years after getting injured
Alex beats a divisional opponent
something no one would've inferred
back in that pivotal moment.

I’m starting employment
And ending enjoyment
To pay a boy’s rent
Despite annoyance

I’m a lowly novice
Taking the oath of office
With a loathing toxic
Making me noxious

My paperwork
Pays for dirt
Removing smirks
Where I lurk

Their affidavit
Clearly stated
I’d be slated
To be deflated
And degraded
While placated

It taunts me
With the daunting
And haunting
Task of bonding

Floor tiles
And files
Drain smiles
Until I’m defiled

In a complete trance
I stare at sterile plants
And dance a feral dance
With a domestication chance

The trite lights
Are quite bright
And smite kites
To fight flight

They know how to handle a vandal
Just make him wear sandals
To discourage scandals
And extinguish his candle

The timeless
Shineless
Sign says
Clear your table before you leave
To keep the cafeteria clean
So garbage remains unseen
In this horribly sanitized dream

I’d like coffee
But that’s not me
I’ve become Ghandi
A passive zombie

Eventually I figure let
Me have a cigarette
Waiting in the bigger net
Until the trigger sets

They steal my soul
Once I’m told
I’ll get gold
If I fold

Stuck in the clutch
Of a financial crutch
Without any touch
It becomes too much

The walls are caving in
This place I’m slaving in
To avoid my lazy kin
Becoming a crazy djinn
Conjuring sin
So evil wins

I can’t pass this test
At my desk
When the best
Bet on themselves
Putting products on shelves
While I’m stuck in this cell
Of an office hell

I admit fault

All I can say
Is I’m sorry I swayed
During the fray
I swerved in your lane
I could’ve said it was rain
Or my brakes were restrained
Instead I accept blame

I was once rear ended
By a peer who pretended
I purposefully meant it
Like my car was rented
So I became the defendant
Against the non repentant
My heart couldn’t be mended
From my trust being dented

So I admit fault
To close the vault
Of paranoid salt
For confusion to halt

I live in a berserk moor
During a nasty dirt war
Life now the worst chore
So I enter church doors
But somehow hurt more
Once I’m alone on the floor

I sit in a pew
With nothing to do
For I’m one of the few
Not up on the news
Or part of the stew
So I sit there and lose

Should I just give in
Because I don’t fit in?
Or is that I sin?
It seems I can’t win
With my glass chin
And mask of skin

The church is a microcosm of society
And my acceptance a sign of propriety
But I feel anxiety and paranoia biting me
While everyone else gets along delightfully
I sit in the corner
Like a silent mourner
Or Christopher Dorner
An unwanted reformer

I get so nervous
During the service
Did God serve this?
Do I deserve this?
Or can I swerve this
Feeling I’m worthless?

If I could just be myself
They could probably help
But remembering pain I felt
I put my personality on the shelf
Avoiding similar welts
To the ones I’ve been dealt

I said this year’s Oscars slapped
you said nobody says that
so I said it’s all copacetic
I’m a product of my time’s word aesthetic
so I’m deadass proud that I said it
without regard to whether it’s respected.

The next movie you watch
consume it explicitly
thinking conceptually
consider what the writer is trying to convey
asking yourself
why is this story being told?

The answer lies in your own personal interpretation
considering the different aspects
like subject matter, plot, and aesthetic amongst others
along with more specific elements
like themes, humor, and symbolism
and how those relate you to
the world around you
that uses those to relate to you.

How much should
society and the individual
change for one another
when it's our duty as individuals
to adjust to different social settings
but it's our duty as a society
to be as inclusive as possible?

In a government job
People do whatever they want
And don’t care if they’re wrong
In the private sector
Workers do whatever their manager wants
And don’t care if they’re wrong

I drive down the slippery road of life
Where constant sliding is my plight
As rain pours onto the road at night
Encouraging my car to take flight
To extinguish my headlights

I can’t see through the rain
Hitting my windshield pane
Becoming my banal bane
Inside my flooded lane
Causing a sedative strain
Until only the vigilant remain

Eventually the tread wears off my tires
In this slippery mire
My situation dire
I want to retire
But can’t find a buyer
Who can help me get drier

I start violently hydroplaning
Forgetting my entire training
When my tires are skating
My white knuckles aching
As every moment is taking
An eternity of shaking

I still think I’m driving
But really I’m sliding
Chaos abiding
Uncontrollably riding
Through God’s designing
While never arriving
To the place I’m pining
Before I started finding
This road to be so winding

Reality show
Notoriety hoes
Follow what glows
Behind a fame nose
In a shame pose
As the game goes
They keep staying low
While nasty stains grow
From thinking vapidly
And acting rapidly
Not speaking factually
We don’t see them actually

Seeming tame
And plain
Seeking fame
Their aim
All the same
They play a game
Of hoops of flame

Becoming circus acts
By removing tact
On a negative track
Of shooting flak
And shooting back
Negativity attracts
Harmful impacts
At an old impasse
Of cold syntax
Warranting a gin tax
Drinking from a tin flask
So the emptiness is masked

The reverb
Resurge
Rewords
The birds
Caught in the Internet
Like a flying intercept
Stealing their intellect
With a mundane misdirect
Of inane interests

A new method for dollar dreamers
Now the cynical screamers
Are digital streamers
Pivotal pleasers
Concerned with clicks
By scratch and kick
They hatch a trick
To match a *****
Dispatched to fix
Their lack of hits

The loud and obnoxious
Are proud of the noxious
And opening boxes
They stream video games
Other people made
They just played
For a good grade
In the leisure lane
No pleasure or pain
To treasure my brain

Their reality shows
In modality woes
Personality froze
Under their nose
In a monitor glow
Development slows
As far as irrelevant goes
They’re part of the flow
That doesn’t grow

Taking the shameful road to attention
For a dishonorable mention
Avoiding knowledge retention
For a superficial invention
Of social extension
They have a fatal mentality
That perception is reality
But the exception is vitality
That isn’t just an eventuality
For one must be capable and willing
To try to produce something fulfilling
Instead of just simple time killing
While hourglass sand keeps spilling

Russian oligarchs
are the mark
targeted to defend Ukraine
through economic pain.

We seize their yachts
that are ill got
a capitalist plot
to lower the tides of war
through boats on the shore.

A platform is shared
By bigots being scared
By change in the air
In range of what’s fair
So they callously pair
With arms to bear
To harm and tear
Those the meek spare

Weapons will be used
As factions fuse
Their hateful views
To give me a bruise
And lie in the news
Or blame the Jews

They go through a bitter tunnel
Acting as the wealthy’s funnel
Exploiting their grumbles
To get them to rumble
And not act humble

Arcade style fights
Illuminate the night
With exploding lights
Shining very bright
Signaling the plight
Of losing our sight
And relying on might
After shifting far right

They want the throne
For their own all alone
And their wants have grown
So we’re stripped to the bone
By a hound and his gun
In town with his son
Who drowns us for fun
For his money has won

So miscellaneous  
Missiles maiming us
With no training rust
Cause raining dust
That’s draining trust
In its radius

No compassion or mercy
They’ve lost the church key
Thoughtlessly hurting
Those seen as *****
Mortars strike angels passing above
Trying to disseminate their love
To those with bullet in glove
Who just push and shove
The transcendent ones
So we can’t be absolved
As the nations devolve
Into a racist right wing resolve

The proud and stupid
Team with the putrid
To **** Cupid
Because he ignored them
Creating the problem’s stem
Creating the bombs we send
Creating the lies we defend
For the extent
Of excess
They expect

An empire’s implosion
Will bring atomic explosions
Yet we watch the erosion
Completely frozen

Your beauty
Shot through me
Assigning a duty
I knew I'd be losing
So I made an advance
And you declined
I knew I had a slim chance
But I was still losing my mind

I felt stupid
I felt weak
Why did Cupid
Make me weep?
From behind the gate he keeps
He shot arrows penetrating deep
That made me fall for the elite
Only to be trampled by feet

I saw perfection
Feed me rejection
I cursed my reflection
And avoided detection
After losing the election
You could tell I was bitter
So you left me to wither
And call you a sinner
For not eating my dinner
Feeding damage inner
Rotting my liver

I was gobsmacked
By the odd lack
Of contact
With your fond laugh
Sitting there seething
To white noise on the TV
Sounding like the rain heaving
Or a pack of coyotes eating
My still beating heart
You're the fleeting spark
That leaves me dark

I wished there was no one on Earth
So you could be as lonely as I
After you took all my self worth
And left me to die
I reached for a piece of the pie
Then you made me reach for the sky
Using the pistol in your eyes
You made me reach for the sky
It hurt then but looking back I know why
God put you in my life but not by my side
You made me reach for the sky