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'm such a hypocrite
I was adamant all that time
That I was a horse
And didn't want anybody to learn
When I formed wings
Guess that makes me a hippogryph
That's what made high school so difficult for me
I couldn't handle the new emotions
Guess it was my hippocampus
People had their own answers
Smoke some *** or lust
But my love was the size of a
Hippopotamus
I needed someone to promise they loved me
And would never hurt me
Guess that's a Hippocratic Oath
But how can I expect anybody to profess their love to me
When my trigger is stuck?
I need to throw a hip check on my life
And hip-hop away from this place
But
My feet are still
Hands on hips
I'm such a hypocrite

There is no moral code
When time is an icy road
Where you cannot stop
Or you'll be stuck in the cold ground
When the temperature drops
Snow collects in my frosty frown
And starts to linger
On my frostbite fingers
While I keep sliding
On the line we're riding

I see icy roads
Leading to icy modes
Of acting
Impacting
The way we treat each other
The same way we beat each other
To the finish line
Of our frigid time

Time isn't nice
When it's ice
But it's all we know
Time continually goes
The challenges grow
Buried in snow
Trying to go uphill is a nasty nope
Sliding downhill is a slippery *****
If you momentarily lose your control
You're pulled over by the cops on patrol

Everything is covered in snow
Even the cars being towed
Their owners gave away their agency
And are at the tow truck driver's mercy
They rely on him to get them to safety
So they cunningly wear his jersey
There are things we want
Acquired by tease and taunt
We drive on top of bodies
To gain traction on the street
We do what is naughty
To have enough to eat

I careen through time
Without seeing a dime
Everything looks so plain
In this frozen rain
When the ordinary life
Is within my sight
I look for something more
Only to see a frozen door

There is ice on the road
There is ice in my heart
I can't handle the load
In the back of my cart
Until I decide
To abide
By the slide
And glide
On the edge of control and freedom
There are other cars and I'll lead them

I open my eyes to close them
I close my eyes to open them
to see identity.
The mirror distorts appearance
I see what I see—not what I am,
an amnesiac that remembers everything,
yet knows nothing. Light fades into the shadows
evidence of invisible particles suspended in air.
The white lines on the black road
leave black lines on my white face.

Tales from the black addendum
demons live, God sends them
we're their descendants.
Dented faces provide rented places for descendant stasis.
Nature finds the cracks—erosion does the rest
mountains crumble—cliffs form
the mountainside dissolves into the ocean
adding mud to the ocean floor—insulation for the Earth's core.

The Syrian process is a serial problem
When the disenfranchised
Cause a landslide
Of historical hatred
The key that ignites
Business and commerce
Wildfire hearts
And boiling skin

The harsh outbreak of deadly cholera
The blockade of the forceful armada
The coalition forces
Run wild like horses
The bombs keep falling
The people cry
The engine keeps stalling
The car dies

The white phosphorus
Brought by the white prosperous
Can burn to the bone
And wounds can ignite up to three days later
But the people of Raqqa
Are used to reigniting scars
They're used to searing flesh
That melts like tar
Where this will go
No one knows how far
Machines must be sustained
Hearts will be untamed
Lives constantly rearranged

A human rights activist attempts to send a report
What he's witnessed in Raqqa
Injustices; perceived and objective
But Hellfire
Turns the Internet cafe
Into a senseless violence display
The dirt, blood, and bodies
Mixed and spread like the art
That was ignored to lead to this quagmire

Whether this calamity started
At the Melian dialogue
Or a market diagram
Or a martyr's diatribe
What we need now is an m.d. to suture the wounds
But who will save us?
When noble protectors are blown up
And the reigniting scars scorch the hands that heal

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

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

These optical illusions
Create an optimal confusion
When eyes are a welcome intrusion
To the brain's inevitable conclusion

We stared into the mystic mirror
I witnessed everything I ever wanted in life
All you witnessed was just two people standing there
The transparency you cast upon me
Reminded me of how the plumes of **** smoke
Were never as thick as my problems
And as those clouds left my mouth and dispersed into the air
I saw your image
Preserved in briefness

It's a shame how my magician's mind
Summons smoke and mirrors
Nobody else believes me
But magic is the only way to explain you
The way you turned me invisible
Was spectacular
Your methods of sawing me in half
Certainly weren't natural
And your teleportation demonstration
Left me suspended in ice
So I guess I'm to Blaine
For the mirrors I erected
And the truth they reflected
Because now I'm lost
In what I refuse to call a funhouse
As I search frantically for some ancient tomb
That might reveal your brilliant incantations
Attempting to ignore the horrid revelation
That every spell I learned
Had been based in your arcane aura
And all the power I had gained
Had been based in your enchantment

I want a magician
Not an illusionist
So what does it mean when your illusions are so magical?

I had that dream again
the one where I'm floating in space
stuck in a box that looks like where I sleep
I can't control my container's course
as it floats towards a black hole
I try to push my cell in another direction
but I just make the room spin
faster and faster
until I'm holding onto the floor for comfort
then I look over and see you
laying next to me
making me feel safe and warm
we kiss and cuddle
forgetting the spinning cosmos outside.

I know you're not real
you're an amalgamation of everyone I know
friends, family, suitors, lovers
you may not be real
but the safety you provide in my nightmare is
so I thank you for that
and for spending time with me
which is how I know you're not real
but I enjoy our nights together all the same.

I’m glad people make art for people like me
who have a bramble thicket in their garden
that constantly becomes tangled
and must constantly be untangled.

I’m glad people make art for people like me
who’ve learned to appreciate
the beauty of their knots
and the satisfaction of becoming untied.

I’m glad people make art for people like me
spinning a crystalline web of entanglements
knitting through a network of knots
clearing the cobwebs from my garden.

I’m glad people make art for people like me
trapping me in their wondrous web
facilitating my becoming
the kind of person who makes art for people like me.

I am the immobile immortal
I pervade the Earth with my emptiness
People search for happiness only to find me
People gaze to the skies for love but only see my indifferent eyes
I show them futility
I show them despair
When it becomes too much people seek me to rescind their pain
But it's only rearranged
It fills the eyes of those that love with silver linings
Humans see stars die in the sky and are filled with wonder and awe
Yet here on Earth death fills hearts with misery and contempt
I inspected a graveyard to admire my work
Time had eroded the epitaphs on the tombstones
Their last beautiful words faded like their final threads of love
Except for one grave...
It read, "I Will Always Love You"
But somebody had crossed that out and wrote
Only Death is Immortal

The roads we build impact the ecosystem
Squirrels are turned into roadkill
As vultures find new sources of food
We must remember our effect on others
And try to not impose our will on them
Yet roads are too important to not use
Progression means moving forward
At a higher speed than before
So we must pave our own paths
Rodents will just have to burrow under

Vestigial limbs of a memory forgotten
itch like bicycle shoestrings tapping every spoke.
One day my brother asked me to visit someone with him
he said the guy was my age and feeling down
because his cat ran away
I said sure, that sounds like a nice thing to do.
After 20 minutes I realized why the cat ran
I was planning my escape route as well
this guy was miserable
completely negative
—it was annoying
and then he said it:
"System of a Down sold out with Toxicity,
which was a garbage album."
the layers of stupidity sent me into a k-hole.
Millions of fans would **** Serj Tankien's ****
if only SOAD would make one more album
but yeah, their sellouts, and your cool.
Clearly, screaming, "banana, banana, terracotta pie" repeatedly
is just telling people what they want to hear.
I tried to change the subject to politics
but he made it clear he had absolutely no interest,
well no **** he doesn't understand SOAD, it's pretty political,
but because art is subjective he thinks his opinion has value
and it does—it lets me know to stay away from his negative idiocy.

Kind of like a car ride I shared
with an older right wing friend of my father.
He scanned the radio like a crackhead
searching for a song in the shallow pool he enjoyed
his lexicon limited, our selection scarce
like a lost cat trapped in a garage
unaware of what is and isn't food.
We came across I Got A Name by Jim Croce
and he said, "Nope. No Jim Croce in this car."
Really? ******* Jim Croce?
I guess I wouldn't like his music either if I voted for Leroy Brown.

It'd be naive of me to think these people
don't work for The New Yorker
calling Ford V Ferrari "empty and hollow".
**** dude, I hate to break it to you
but if you can't find emotion in that movie
that's a flaw in you
and the hordes of imbeciles
approaching art with a "this better ******* impress me" attitude
tearing apart any movie that aims for anything elevated
to be just generally miserable or to show how "smart" they are.
Meanwhile, sniping at an actually empty and hollow movie
is seen as punching down and a waste of time
so a subculture of cynics is developed
infecting others with toxicity
to see art as a challenge to one's intelligence
rather than honest emotional expression
then people miss out on the full capability of art
and consume it improperly
and regurgitate it in front of me like a feeble feral cat.

I'm trapped in inclement weather
All my other ties are severed
After finding someone better
Than the ghosts in this nether
So I decisively pulled a lever
Saying I'll love you forever
Even if you love me never

A volcano erupted
In my bed and in my head
But you disrupted
The magma flowing I fled
But with that snuck
A feeling of dread
That my heart was misled

I'm the introvert
Wanting in your shirt
But you're the extrovert
Causing extra hurt
Torrential rain spurts
Out my eyes of no worth
Wishing I had never been birthed

You caused this
So you should take responsibility
But you resist
Your lack of response is killing me
For you insist
On not following me willingly
I feel resentment filling me
Convinced of your villainy

Rain pours from the sky
After a million tries
To win you with lies
After lightning struck my eyes
Seeing you as a prize
Amongst flies

I load my gun
To shoot at a hurricane
For I'm not done
Fighting this absurd pain
Fear consumes me
As I think of losing
With a rejection proving
The futility of what I'm doing
The Earth quakes beneath my feet
Pushing heavy currents in my direction
All the water in the ocean depletes
As I see myself in a tidal wave's reflection

Conquered by the tide
I tried to abide
My eyes haven't dried
Not knowing your side
I'm pushed under by the waves
The water's weight I can't brave
So to the sea I'm enslaved
Chanting your name

The sky turns dark
As thunder booms
I can't find my heart
While darkness looms
My mind is fighting
An accidental sighting
Of chain lightning
That's brain frightening

The storm never ceases
On lonely beaches
So I cowardly retreated
From memories of being defeated
Towards a community of leeches
Yet all they teach is
Happiness will always elude my reaches
After they drained me dry
Leaving me in the desert to fry
In an arid drought of somber sighs
I look to God and ask why

The storm finally stopped
The flood finally subsided
But once I reached the top
Love arrived once again

The evolution of art never halts
Once we began dancing around fire
Our feet couldn't stop
A place in our lives
Where our subpar seeds
Could be seen as glowing trees
That's the way I feel about my poetry
It reminds me a lot of me
I reread it and rewrite it so often
By the end it seems unoriginal and plain
And all I can hope
Is the themes and ideas that were the inspirational genesis
Remain intact

Art walks a tightrope over the most unpredictable factor
The audience
They are the other half of art
Their power cannot be overstated
And as time progresses
Their power grows
And the importance of art always extends an equal distance
But the stronger art becomes
The more it asks of it's audience
In many cases
The audience is not ready to take the call
This is one of those times
Here at the current pinnacle of art
Surfing the web
A wonderful chance as
Art is a reflection of people and society
The Internet is people and society
But just as we listen to songs
To decide what concert to go to
Or watch trailers
To decide what movie to see
We like what we like
And put blinders on to find it
Like moths to fire

We could do amazing things
If we could harness the potential
Of our collective conscious
But the threat of losing our individuality
Is too great for us
Unable to accept
Our individuality is always in the context of our cosmic existence
We are part of something greater
And we can't escape that
Even in death
We feed what lies beneath
The memory of our lives
Shrinks to obscurity
The maggots that cover our corpses
Flourish to maturity
Everything this world creates is art
And we are it's most complex creation
Not necessarily the best
We just have the most parts
And the maggots that use our dead bodies for sustenance
Were once the monsters that roamed this Earth
They had no nationality
Or political affiliations
Or religion
And they're still here
Waiting to reclaim their throne
Once "smarter" species seek suicide

Capitalists capitalize
markets become factions
purchasing power negated
by marketing power
attention betrays humility
the town crier speaks agreeable rhetoric
would you like to read more for 99₵?
man drops change reaching in his pocket
his eyes scan the paper without reading
he skips the climate content—
he just wants to know the weather
coins collected by the crier are tossed in wishing wells
money shimmers in the shallow waters.

Envying elevation
neon arrows direct us toward saccharine sonnets
the seating is comfortable—the costumes are immaculate
curtains raise revealing Vaudeville starlets
the audience sits and claps
dying in the silence between laughs.

The market speaks in tongues
its invisible hand strangles culture
PG rules programming for product generating
companies like Procter & Gamble to advertise,
The proctor sets strict rules to lessen the gamble.
Grief spreads through infantilized thoughts
like toxic waste dispersing through the tributaries of a drying river
the fish are dying—their offspring are mutants
ageless wonders that never see the shore.

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

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.

In the American justice system
there’s no such thing as an “open and shut case”
unless the defendant has no money.

I’m an immature insectoid in a *** void
a walking stick wandering annoyed
looking for a hole to burrow in
escaping the cold is a win.

I connected through love
we connected through ***
you connected your shoves
through physicality and texts.

I held your thorax
through all the attacks
through the dotted tracks
until the **** started to stack.

I thought you were Don Cheadle
but you’re just a dung beetle
preying on the dumb feeble
putting a ****** needle
on the stinger of Weedle.

Parasite envelopment
Isn’t good for development
so I decide to stay celibate
and not ***** for the hell of it.

Detaching my proboscis
makes me sad I’ve lost this
but the aroma made me noxious
and your insect bites are not missed.

If we could observe no other organisms with wings
how much longer would it have taken us to achieve flight?

I've spent the last ten years on repetitive tasks
ten years you've ****** my uncredited ***
just let me know how long the sedatives last
until your ridiculous reign is embedded in past
once I'm no longer called an iconoclast
just for avoiding your rhino blast.

Don't lecture me on my attitude
with your ******* platitudes
saying I should show gratitude
like I should be a happy dude
while you slap me blue
then call me rude.

Because I'm not trusted I'm paid by the hour
don't hand me a **** and call it a flower
don't praise my trailer from inside your tower
or scowl at my failure like Bill Cowher
let's just call all the resources ours
and watch you get devoured
by workers who've been soured
by deeds of the dour.

I don't know anyone with a nine-to-five
that doesn't cut them down to size
just don't present that as a prize
to fill the bags below my eyes
you're the lord of flies
tortuous guy
to which I applied
and you accepted
because numbers projected
I'd need to be there
in your carnivorous care.

Until the death of my soul do we depart
trying to maintain the hole in my heart
was your malevolent goal from the start
so I could be a robot part
for a machine
printing green
reasons to bleed
to get what I need.

You say you have a coalition of the willing
being obtuse about their need for shillings
and then close down their building
while your pockets are spilling
into the ocean of an offshore bank
expecting me to say "gee thanks"
while your greed breaks
the ends I make.

So even though I accepted your invitation
I'm having a tough time with assimilation
like your wages falling behind inflation
so please accept my insubordination.

There is a fight
It is internal
There is a plight
It is infernal
There is no light
In this ******

There are many things people callously say
Like I'm the last person they'd expect to be gay
Delivered like a compliment
Burning like a sulfur vent
I have to remember not to say thank you
To save someone some discomfort down the line
When it's easy to let these sentiments internalize

You'll see this in the homosexual community
They don't face the hatred with impunity
Some call themselves masculine
And blame their plight on the effeminate
But no matter what
They'll still be called degenerate
So the community internalizes marginalization
Though this prejudiced stop is no original station
You'd think your own kind would allow vacations
From the population of an uncaring nation
That will never grant us any veneration
Because of the nature of our *******
Yet we **** ourselves for their placation

There is hatred within
This hatred imprint
When we fractionalize marginalized groups
Into the "good" ones and "bad" ones
We say the bad ones are the reasons the good ones must be hated
Whether they're cops or criminals
Christian or Muslim
Gay or straight
We find reasons to hate
When we live our life in the grime
Of the negativity we've internalized

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I want you to course through my veins
but you shoot into my muscles
bringing subcutaneous agony
not getting me high the way you should
a dagger twists inside
missing the mark—maiming me
leaving a hole in my arms
I must live with the inflammation
but life without you makes me sick
so I find a new guy
who has his own needles.

When I stay inside I stare at the ceiling
when I go outside I stare at the sky.

Your intrusion
Is conducive
To my city burning down
So I defend from inside my castle
Civilian hordes
Wield swords
And I've gotta flail
In my chain mail

My city walls have been manned
So use your battering ram
And intrude on me
Muscle into my muscles
And burrow into my bones
By disarming my mob
While catapults lob
Incendiary boulders
That protect me from
Temporary shoulders
That have exploited my nation before
Mining the resources from it's core
Avoid all the blasts
So we can clash
In the arena of my mind
Where steel strikes time
And my defenses
Defend me from my life
So intrude on me
And shatter my protections
And shatter my conceptions
So intrude on me
And break my perceptions
But be careful
Intrusions have reflections

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

I feel the best score for an IQ test
Is to not take it
We can’t measure the full extent of our mentality
And intelligence exists in a situational capacity anyway
So plenty of people with high IQs seem idiotic to me
Because they need to tell me their IQ
Rather than show me through conversation
Can you say you have intelligence
If it can’t be effectively communicated?
What good is it to me then?
Oftentimes they lack emotional or social intelligence
So what the **** are we measuring?
Spatial awareness? Cognition? Retention?
What makes that more important than empathy or charisma?
Can you make me feel better after I make a mistake?
Can you tell me I’m wrong in a suitable manner?
Or would you just educate me?
Letting me know I’m stupid compared to you
After you took that one test
And now you’re smart for life
That seems really stupid to me

The clouds separated the Sun from my life for too long
I wondered if it even existed
And if it existed
Would it know I existed?
It's warm companionship eluded me
I was frozen in the wastelands
I donned my armor of ice
And embraced all that is frigid and bleak
My feet turned into rockets as flowers bloomed all around me
I rode headfirst into the sky on a jet of pure nature
I cut through the friction in the air
And exploded through the clouds
The Sun's disorienting light loved me
Without vision I flew to it's warmth
When I reached the Sun I kissed it on the mouth
and we danced around the galaxy
And the Sun radiated our love to every living creature in the universe

But the Sun abandoned me out in space
The Sun returned to giving life to all
And I am but one
I just thought that maybe I could help it give life
Because at one point I was a star
Now I'm just dust
Is it so selfish to want it's power for myself?

I've been floating in darkness for a while
And I feel very Alien: Isolation right now
But this is no game
And Sigourney Weaver couldn't fight my monsters
Game over, man

It's a time to be outside
so I open the door
but can't believe my eyes
seeing an insect horde.

I should be able to enjoy the day
without perking their antennas
so I foolishly say I should stay
as the world becomes Gehenna.

The bugs tell me to keep it moving
by making me itch
they say it would behoove me
to be rich.

They crawl on the ground
and fly in the air
they make annoying sounds
and get in my hair.

So I ask the nicest of neighbors
if they have a solid solution
but the bugs got them belabored
so they only suggest pollution.

This world is too itchy
like a thick sweater
that I always keep with me
through scorching weather.

There are millions like me
who can't stand the discomfort
making it all the more frightening
when their bodies are discovered.

The gnashing proboscis
of a million mosquitoes
might eventually cost us
the skin of our heroes.

During my high school days
I was a fat kid afraid
of making any ****** advances
I never went to any school dances
because I knew this fool's chances
were lower than evergreen branches.

My definition of try
was hair that was dyed
and apparel fly
I bought some **** clothes but they were 4XL
now I only spread sheets that far for Excel
because it reminds me of my ex hell
when my enthusiasm for *** fell
because of how weight impacted my mobility
and society negated my nobility
just for the food filling me
which was admittedly killing me
with cholesterol and restaurants billing me
because I was addicted to eating willingly.

Then I started counting calories
for purely cosmetic purposes
which gave me more of my salary
canceling extraneous purchases
but it mainly stopped my self hating
I started meeting people and dating
which feels like competing for ratings
which can be quite grating
but my chances for love are fading
so my life can no longer be about delaying
finding someone who's interested in staying.

Now my docket
shows **** licks
and crossfit
no longer frost bit
by locked lips
I got this
advantage to not being lonely
but now I gain no new homies
when no one wants to know me
just *******
showing
I'm not really growing
just getting laid
but that's a decent trade
for the life I had made
getting food filleted
to a lower grade.

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.

The best way to change someone is through love
but you can use force at the price of resentment
or you can **** that person to eliminate their issues.

I wish I could love Jair Bolsonaro
the fatally unfit fascist president of Brazil
one of many idiots who benefit from anti-intellectualism.

He enjoys imposing his will—telling people how to live
so naturally he doesn’t enjoy being told how to live
like a child making rules to a game to benefit themselves.

Jair Bolsonaro doesn’t like using science or logic
so of course he doesn’t like using a face mask
saying protective equipment is “for fairies”.

Jair Bolsonaro contracted COVID-19
and shared videos of himself taking hydroxychloriquine
like a shameless snake oil salesman.

How am I supposed to love this man
when he fills me with resentment
to the point I start cheering for Covid?

People like him had me resorting to ****** at one point
until a rehab counselor brought up a Malachy McCourt quote
“Resentment is drinking poison and hoping the other person dies.”.

When I was younger
I had a hunger
To tear asunder
A life I wondered
Might be a meaningless schism
So I turned to hedonism
My coping mechanism
To set a mega rhythm
Guiding my decisions

My blood entered the syringe
And then it went back in
Along with all the ******
As I tried to put a spin
On a world that seemed grim
In a room filled with sin
I looked for a magical djinn
To cure all my issues
From heavy drug misuse
And rid me of shame imbued
By living in denial and not in truth

I was too educated
To be that medicated
But I saw a life predicated
On living to be hated
So I hesitated
Looking to get elevated
Or at least sedated

But I became miserable
In the drugs’ scissor hold
My health at critical
I was a lost individual
Seeking a different goal

Wandering in this ***** colony
Jesus Christ’s blood falls on me
As ***** as it was on Roman soldiers
Its cleansing quality cleans my shoulders
I feel a weight removed
From the hate that grew
From the life I knew

Jesus cleans my black marks
Jesus cleans my track marks
He shows me the track start
For how to act smart
Then nothing else matters
All the inane chatter
Exits out my bladder
Leaving my past in tatters

Relieved of the grime
I try to leave it behind
But God uses my mind
To provide perspective
To the dejected
I become a detective
For the defective
Using my past directive

But it’s to my chagrin
That I once lived in sin
And I just want to be rid
Of all that I did
Which throws me in a net
Filled with regret
Which Jesus had met
With a covenant set
Yet still I fret
Wanting to be the teacher’s pet

I feel Jesus’ blood get on me
Or maybe that’s a dead body
Warning my sins have caught me
From when I once acted naughty
Because even now that I’m godly
Those corpses haunt me
Does God actually want me
To be flaunting
These memories taunting?

I was a vampire
Whose sand spire
Spanned a mire
Over drug buyers
And **** liars
Whose guns fired
Into dumb deniers
So it makes sense I use discretion
Yet part of Jesus’ connection
Is through the redemption
In his glorious attention

Jesus was killed
So I could be chill
But I must pay a bill
Of spreading his will
By spreading his blood
By spreading his love
Without push or shove

Jesus has way more blood to be spared
Now that he exists in the air
So it doesn’t seem fair
That I wouldn’t share
His redeeming care

I was saved
I was rescued
A road I pave
For the next group
And the distressed youth
To see the best proof
That the lost uncouth
Can be redeemed
They just need to recoup
And live their dream
Following Jesus’ lead

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

We experience xenogenesis
A horse births a Pegasus
Metamorphosis
Of a horse in mist
It starts to get ******
Adding its colt to its list
Of things it won't miss

Pick a side
To abide
Be a bride
Of the tide
Of our pride
That divides

Listen to me
Glisteningly
Christening thee
As all I can see
So strangers flee
Ending my need
To follow their lead

Roundtable
Clowns label
A painful angle
Of Cain and Abel
By cutting cables
Becoming stable
By turning tables
On their fellow man
Making a bellow band
Of the yellow brand
For this well of sand
Has the smell of demand
Creating the hell at hand

It's a figment
Or a signet
Of a big net
A pig let
On a rigged bet
For a jig jet

Band of brothers
Versus others
Killing colors
Paint by numbers
Tainted slumber
Heart of lumber
That they sunder
Then they wonder
Why we're under

All of their vision
Is in a jingoism
Single prism
Decision
Of derision
No precision
To their incisions

The faithful fractions
Of fateful factions
Don't face their actions
But race to reaction
At the pace of passion
To their racist bastion

Darkened tracks
Harken back
To white and black
Skies of flak
From the attacks
Of baritone blaster
Carrion caster
Natural disasters
Killing our pastors
Becoming our masters
So we'd die faster

Counterculture vultures
And contrarian poachers
Convince the loafers
They'll be heard
If they say the right word
Diamonds assured
In a deal absurd

They promise ailment mending
But it's a clever sale sending
A fairytale ending
Of only people we love
And God up above
Nodding in approval
Of the other's removal
So the problem's renewal
Is an unbreakable jewel

These xenophobic aerobics
Corroded and loaded
Us into a low den
Where we're so dead
We can't use our own head
So we make our own bed
And we make it with dread

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some people have a jungle mentality.
They say if we lived in the jungle
the strong would dominate the weak.
But this isn’t a jungle
it’s so far from the jungle it’s impossible to say
exactly who the strong and the weak are
when there are so many variables
and the society we live in
dictates the skills and attributes we acquire.
Yet some people try to turn society into the jungle
because they think they’d thrive there
but their jungle doesn’t have trees
it has chimpanzees cut off at the knees
nor does it have a sustainable ecosystem
it has concrete walls and steel bars
where they beat the small and leach the large.
The ape beating its chest the hardest
hoards all the bananas
while its shrewdness starves.
The only jungle it resembles is Upton Sinclair’s
but before that jungle can be realized
they have to plant the jungle mentality in our minds.

I’m making an honest living
Everything else I’m giving
To keep the world spinning
Yet I feel I’m not winning
As others pass me
Thinking they’re classy
Their weapons blast me
Causing pain everlasting

They’re like crack addicts
With attack tactics
Viciousness attracted
Their violence didactic
They can’t spare the rock
In this paradox
Where they care for stocks
And selling glocks

Farmer
Meets charmer
A disguised harmer
Dressed in social armor
With wealth they flex
For wealth is success
Wealth can undress
****** impressed

Materialism strangles
With salesman angles
The consumer tangled
Becomes helplessly mangled
Looking to turn the tables
I cut my social cables
A cutthroat mentality enabled
Only financially am I stable

A ******
Hunts me
Grunting
Bluntly
About getting his dues
Through cut and bruise
Controlling the news
So I know I’ll lose

The social anxiety
Inside of me
Pirating
The life of me
From the strife I see
Makes acting righteously
Seem like goodnight for me

To avoid being a fool
I play by their rules
By acting cruel
To win this duel
Of fatal competition
That Satan envisioned
For our moral dereliction
From our paper prescription

With no self esteem
I join a selfish team
With a hellish dream
Believing genocide cleans
I’m always conforming
To not be a minority
But a thorn in me
Says I’m *******

I’m perched in the mist
Of being purposeless
So ******* purchases
Drown my worthlessness
When my heart is dying
Yet I must keep producing
I think that I’m trying
Which is quite amusing
After demon fusing
I can’t see I’m losing

I’ve morphed from a hoper
Into an interloper
Who’s splintered poker
Becomes society’s choker

I heard the best way to hear yes is to ask
but that’s not such a simple task
when the chance for yes is last
behind taking off my mask
and considering the past.

In the 1970s there was a wave of soft pop that struck America
one band at the crest of that wave was The Carpenters
formed by Richard and Karen Carpenter
they were wildly successful
their song We’ve Only Just Begun is still a ubiquitous wedding song
Karen’s smooth and pure voice drew giant crowds
but despite how timeless her music is
it is equally contrasted by the briefness of her life.

Karen captivated a worldwide audience with her music
but some people just can’t be reached
indoctrinated by our superficial society
thinking every celebrity should be a supermodel
critics made snide comments about her being Richard’s chubby sister
even though she wasn’t overweight
and Richard was addicted to Quaaludes
but even more important than the public was Karen’s own mother
who worried of the public’s feelings more than her own daughter’s.

Karen felt pushed to lose weight
so she hired a nutritionist
who loaded her down with carbohydrates
which obviously made her fatter
crushing her faith in nutrition
turning her towards unhealthy methods
...which worked...at first...
but unfortunately it kept working
and she refused to change, unlike her body.

Fans who once cheered for her
now gasped when they saw her emaciated skeleton take the stage
they thought she might’ve had cancer
and were concerned about her weight
but to her it was the same crowd telling her to lose weight
now telling her to gain weight
she was done hearing it
and stuck in her ways.

Her friends were worried about her
and pleaded for her to seek help
but her mother’s profession was repression
so Karen hid her depression
while her mother told her psychiatrists were for crazy people.

Karen tried using a man to make her problems disappear
and married Tom Burris two months after meeting him in 1980
he would verbally abuse her; calling her a bag of bones
then he’d *** money off her; amounts up to $50,000 at a time
needless to say the relationship was ill fated
and they divorced in 1981.

Finally Karen’s friends convinced her to see a therapist
who brought her family into a counseling session
and urged them to tell Karen they love her
of course Richard was willing to say so, they were always really close
especially after Karen had helped him with his own addiction issues
but Karen’s mother refused
berating the therapist for using her first name; Agnes
and informing him that wasn’t how their family did things.

Karen Carpenter passed away February 4, 1982 at the age of 32
she died from ipecac poisoning
she used the substance to induce vomiting every day
and it slowly dissolved her heart.

Richard was devastated.

There’s not much I can add
I guess Karen’s story speaks for itself
it just ****** me off critics jeer with impunity and without empathy
they’re free to cajole great artists while having no value themselves
driving artists away until we’re only left with negativity
it makes me want to cut out all the demons’ razor sharp tongues
before they get a taste of another angel’s wings
but would that really protect those angels
if they’re born to demons?

“Hey, I heard about your accident. I’m here for you if you need to talk.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll keep that in mind. By the way I heard about your breakup and I’m here to talk if you need to as well.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

...

...

...

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.

My old Kentucky home
Is a cold unlucky tomb
I live in between the trees
And those that say freeze
I'm down on my knees
As I beg and plead
I try to talk to a world disconnected
And discuss the problems I've detected
Instead I end up feeling dejected
In a state deemed defective
I feel rejected

A downside to living in the Kentucky wilderness
Is hearing animals dying in the distance
And there's nothing I can do about it
Critters whimpering and bones snapping
Barrels simmering and bullets capping
I hear it on the news
Or hear it in the woods
Beasts biting into the weak
******* exploiting the meek
They use their teeth
To play hide and seek

Under the luminous full moon
I hear the death of raccoons
These are the sounds
To which I'm bound
And when I think I've lost them
I start to hear possums
Which engenders fear
Like the mangled deer
Lying on the side of the road
Dead to a world it never knew
And its curiosity never grew
Until a car didn't mind driving through

We should pay attention to one another's problems
Even if we can't solve them
Even if it's painful
It should be our main goal
In a world that's being gloabalized
Location is beginning to matter less
Unless you live where a bomb is being dropped
Then it's up to those that live within crops
To pick up a mop
And help clean up this mess
Which is a lofty task I confess
But I live in a society
That determines the emotions inside of me
So instead of giving up and saying **** me
I'll do the best I can from Kentucky

I'm not trying to be needlessly edgy or ****
But can we lay off Kevin all up in yo Spacey?
I know it seems wrong
But I feel I can understand
Or at least relate
Because when I feel too much love in my heart
For somebody younger
Who is a guy
I start doing crazy ****
Like projecting my life onto his
Maybe he's scared
Maybe he's alone
Maybe I could save someone from that
I have to remind myself that was just me
And that there is no such thing as salvation
When your mistakes are supercharged
Because of the scandalous homosexual element
Yet there's no one to turn to
Because nobody understands
So your actions become louder to drown the silence
The stakes of the mischief grow
There's tens of thousands of dollars in property damage
That can be attributed to my sexuality
You have to find a way to push past that
The only way I found
Is to be open about who you are
Because until then the fear will consume you
You fear they will laugh, mock, judge and hate you
Until you wish they were silent again
And they will do all these things
And you will wish all those things
But you'll be able to face it with strength and honesty
Because your fear is more powerful than their callousness
But more importantly it's better than the alternative
When people discover your nature
Through a mistake you've made
And unleash the wrath of God
They will never give a ****
About how they contribute to these moments
They're only there to throw gas on the fire
They say it's a mistake to ****** a minor
They say it's a mistake to be a whiner
And there's no one who'll ever take your call
Expecting them to understand
Well, that's the biggest mistake of them all

I take flight
With all my might
To be your kite
Following you wherever you go
To be part of your ebb and flow
People think I ingested the wrong pill
Because up here I can't see the roadkill
And float over the pitch black oil spills
From the end of your string
I become king

There is an approaching storm
As you deviate from the norm
And discontinue acting warm
Your lightning strikes
My metal pike
Electricity tears through my thin fabric
As I dream of a tranquil casket
And you want to grant me my death wish
I guess that's why they call me Icarish
For flying to close to the rain
Only to constantly feel pain
To distract me from the shame
From those with unknown names
But familiar bigoted flames
To me you both are the same
Once I go against the grain
You tell me to stay in my lane
High above the gravelly ground
Where you can't hear my sounds
Of impaling wailing
Because you're bailing
Letting go of the string
You become king

I am a kite floating
Spending night noting
All my many mistakes
That caused these breaks
But despite trying my very best
The wind provides a difficult test
After I am battered into tatters
My hopes couldn't be flatter
So I start to feel it doesn't matter
When my dreams came true then shattered
The wind solemnly sings
Of distant powerful kings
But I cannot fly anymore
In my broken kite form

Humanity is a knot
And humans are the strings
We are connected by our actions
Until we choose to disconnect
By plucking our own individual strings
And start unraveling ourselves from the knot
Once enough strings are removed
The knot is untied
As we've lost connection
Strings are now subject to the wind
And begin to wither without the knot
And without the strings
The knot is nothing
What brings the knot back
Is war
Fueled by famine
We tangle each other in terror
Where the strings must be maneuvered with precision
So we may form a knot

The shroud of strings blinds itself
As war wraps us in calamity
But after all the wars we've fought
Is this the connection we've got?
Humanity is a knot

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

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

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

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

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

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

The shift has begun
I'm going into labor
I must fulfill my contractions
Before I die late
Will I produce something beneficial to the world?