When I was young I was told to shoot for the stars
but once I got older I was told to climb a ladder
a tumultuous ladder
with rungs of compromise and concession
some of them just pointless lessons.
Ascenders climb to reach happiness
or escape misery
but I climb to climb
to occupy my time.

I spend all my energy climbing
while jet packs and rocket ships blast by me
their exhaust is blinding and suffocating.
I see bodies fall just as fast in the other direction
reachers who lost their grip
now fall to the bottom
reminding me of the gravity of my situation.

It's hard to say if I'll survive
when some people survive a fall from the top
while others die slipping two feet off the ground.
The fragility and resilience of life
seems arbitrary and random
but everyone ends up in the ground eventually.

Those above me constantly add to the ladder
so I make no progress.
Those below me constantly dig beneath it
so I keep sinking.
Climbing and going nowhere
suspended in air
at a certain point progress
becomes not falling off
and maintaining my grip
through extreme turbulence.

My hands are calloused and ******
the further up I go
the more intense the turbulence
until fear shakes my body
harder than the wind ever could.
The ladder starts splintering into my hand
until I don't know how much more I can withstand
so I devise a plan
to utilize my fellow climbers.

I find companions for assistance
I call them helpers
they're the top shelfers
I want to surround myself with.
They help me up the ladder
lifting me with encouragement
or their arms when words aren't enough
just to help me up.
Whenever I'm knocked down a few pegs
they give me back my legs
and hold my ladder steady
making life on the ladder livable
but they don't hang around forever
because this ladder I climb is mine
and everyone has their own ladder to climb.

I didn't ask for this vertical trajectory
but when my options are die or climb
I choose the ladder.

Love blooms from fertile fields like springtime sprawlers
but the regimental maintenance of one’s lawn
halts the grass at a certain height

lessening mushrooms and mosquitoes
lessening honeysuckle and dandelions

the aroma of lavender and roses
faintly cries from beneath grass clippings.

Last night I was chased by Leatherface again.
Am I liable for copyright infringement in my dreams?
That would be a nightmare
which I’ve gotten used to
coming back around like the blades of a
******* tool misappropriated as a weapon
reminding me I’m safest when turned off
yet being idle means trouble
because that leads to getting revved up
which is fatal
after the faceless killer takes pieces from me
reveling in my pain
while hiding behind a newly found face
from the next victim of the spree
connected to the chain I saw
which was just one link soon to be forgotten
in favor of the next night’s nightmare.

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

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

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

reciprocated bloodsucking
a competitive transfusion

blood goes in me
and out the other side

cascading off the hospital gurney
belonging to my polyamorous annelid

who brays in good fortune
as the blood leaves my body

spilling on the floor
to be pushed down the drain

where it becomes nourishing water
rejuvenating sulfur-scented cannibals.

My employer is leeching all it can from me
and I’m leeching all I can from it

it’s a competition
a gentleman’s game

where the stake for me is my life
and the stake for it is like 37 dollars.

My sympathy depleted
My friendships deleted
I have been defeated
By truths that hit so hard
I was decleated
By intense hatred deep-seeded
My history was repeated

I guess a three-armed mutant
Has no need for a right hand man
Until his leprosy riddled hands rot off
When he needs them the most
But his ***** limbs had been pretty useless for a while
Since he had lost feeling in them
He had to do a biopsy on his life
After the inaccurate results of the smear test
He took antibiotics to rid himself of the bacteria
But that didn't heal the nerve damage
He yearned for the rhetoric to be less inflammatory
So he took steroids
Transforming the ***** into an ogre
With no semblance of humanity
...Except for the people he devours
Their patience is delicious
He eats that first
Their pity is a delicacy
A rare treat
Their disgust tastes sour
But it's a feast
His cannibalism may seem callous
But the non-mutant lepers take Thalidomide
And get pregnant
Their kids come out defected
With an intense, deep-seeded hatred for three-armed mutants
And lepers and ogres look exactly the same
To those of another species

Through all this strife
We create life
It's not wrong or right
It's humanity's plight

Whether it's with a wife
Or a stranger
We create life
Despite danger

There is a new addition
He could end repetition
Of negative patterns
And social ladders
But there is a competition
Between the new editions
Of positive versus negative
He'll be the one ahead of it

In a world plagued with stabbings
By the greedy money grabbing
Not to mention the beastly bombings
That endear retribution wronging
And elusive peace longing
There is a birth
Amongst death
That makes it worth
That first breath
Which provides hope in promise and potential
When they could be the positive differential
That could change this planet
And the hearts made of granite

We are born screaming
And never stop
We find ways of teaming
To be cops
Imposing our will on others
Through fascist force
There are many ways to cover
How this ruins discourse
But I sense a new sheriff in town
Our old ways he'll bury in the ground
He might be one or two now
But he'll change the world and I don't know how
For he brings hope
To a world with none
He helps me cope
A compassionate son
He'll make the world brighter
By not being a fighter
In a world of strife
He'll create life

We are surrounded by the lifeless
whether it's the corpses in red
or the horde of feeding undead
we don't see any niceness
in all the ways we have bled
so an idea pops in our head
to leech the likeness
of the zombies instead
of what's righteous.

A possum parades
around in the trash
it's called young and brash
by those it evades
through darkened paths
that harken back
to wild ways
we should've passed.

The possum pals with predators
to avoid the hunters
then those gun toting meddlers
have the gall to wonder
why they got themselves a runner
when everything is a red alert
then The Battle of Fort Sumter.

We track the terrified critter and stone it
a warning from a Kentucky poet:
when society is at its lowest
we'll pray for atonement
not for original sin
but being given a life to give
instead we fight with shivs
this how the lifeless live.

The clock struck midnight
With an informative pang
I couldn't face it's music
So I turned counterclockwise
But time kept moving forward
As my wisdom dissipated
Bad times I anticipated

As I wandered through life
Burdens grew
Weight added with each step
My feet started to sink into the ground
So I got in my car
And drove
And kept driving
The more I traveled
The more I witnessed
The less I talked
As I grappled with the futility and necessity of communication

The clock warned of night's approach
I decided to continue driving
Luminous fireflies pelted my vessel
Their lamps exploding upon impact against my vehicle
The ability to destroy light
Exhilarated me
And I became addicted
To extinguishing that which shines
Until darkness flooded my engine
And an abysmal order was made by my abyssal odor

I had to exit my vehicle
And consult a mechanic
He explained my engine wouldn't work
Unless my windows were down
Which solved my darkness problem
But those ****** pests pervaded my car
Their locust glow disoriented me
The slight variations of their unique displays
Manufactured chaos within the light

My eyes grew accustomed to entropy
My brain grew accustomed to impairment
Commuters noticed my erratic driving
And offered to assist me
By attempting to ram me off the road
But the impenetrable light created a force field
Impalas couldn't run through
For my light bugs too much
Buffering me from others
And driving others from me
Leaving me alone
As a giant pulsating light that never stops moving
Is this how a star is born?

They see me wearing skirts and stilettos
living my life in falsetto
which they claim a false meadow
and all call out hell no.

They call me godless
when I crossdress
in this frost mess
of lost guests.

They call me a queen
just to be mean
I am what they deem
what they instantly gleam.

Some don’t like what’s different
so the townspeople pick up their pitchforks
they want to diminish my imprint
I guess that’s what they call me a ***** for.

They despise the flamboyant game
coming from my derelict frame
they ask if I feel no shame
I ask them the same.

Every time I’m on the verge
of a dirge
they swerve
from my verve.

While I walk on the air
they watch and they stare
envy ensnared
jealousy scared.

I see myself as ethereal
and try to be pure
they see a disease venereal
in need of a cure.

They say men mustn’t be feminine
even if it is genuine
and there’s a place they’ll send you in
to die with the men who sin.

They order me to mask my grin
and act masculine
but I never asked to win
so I bask in sin.

I search for connection
turning in the direction
of those interested in my *******
not my introspection.

They’re so ******
they’re so catty
they’re just wishing
for a daddy.

The lo-fi
don’t know why
I go cry
and don’t pry.

Excruciating wonders
tear me asunder
until all of my plunder
is a magnanimous blunder.

My throat gets a mite coarse
from the blight force
of their high horse
on my white porch.

My tonsil gets scratchy sore
once they freeze my core
and I sing no more
exiting the door.

I can’t speak
let alone sing
my body is weak
and so are my wings.

They want me in their baritone
narrow home
where sparrows go
to carol no.

I see the slinking bass
ruining this stinking place
engendering a sinking face
whenever I get a thinking taste.

There’s a sharp staccato
in the places I will not go
where the race of evil taught notes
lower than my shipwrecked boat.

I go underwater like the Maldives
silently we all scream
living in our small dreams
rooting for our ball teams.

Once they see I’ve drowned
they hand me back my crown
and tell me not to look so down
after I’ve been gagged and bound.

I respond to their monotony
noddingly
plotting the
same odyssey.

I adopt the stature
of Margaret Thatcher
I’m the student’s master
like a brimstone pastor.

Now I sing as low as I can go
and my flow is extra slow
because I could never grow
living my life in falsetto.

I like it
I love it
I lyk it
I let you show it
if you don't loll me to sleep
by only responding with lol
from inside a black out crowd
you back it down to a bracket brown
then wait to text "guess who's back in town?"
to try to catch-up without ****
so I can see your vacant eyes and barren scoff
when you tell me lies to tell me off
you think you're sly but you're just a cop
abusing power until I pop
you build a tower to watch me drop
while I'm falling you ask wya, eta, etc.
while I'm just terrified of breaking my femora
talking on Snapchat with a broken camera
after you ask me to send nudes
like that's all that men do
so I bid you adieu to get rid of the rude
member of the brood to which Cronnenberg alludes
you respond with kthxbai
I wonder why I even try.

The greatest challenge my nature presents:
Love is harder to find
Hate is easier to find
Within myself and others

Is rejection different for me?
Everybody seems to know the pain of being unwanted
And idle threats and empty words are no stranger to rejection
But when you say you'll **** me if you ever see me again
The intention is clear
The existence of my attraction
Is grotesque beyond redemption
I thought I loved you...

When appreciation comes my way
It's superficiality amuses me
Because I know all that needs to happen
Is breaking down the wall to my mind
Or unlocking the door to my heart
And those appreciators will transform into detractors
Especially if the hideous leviathan approaches their vessel

Not finding women gross frustrates me
Because I have no reference point
For why people hate me so much
Which provides a reference point
For why I hate myself so much

It's difficult not to be dominated by this damnation
But there's no way people could understand
The daily subtle nuances
Why should they?
I don't constantly consider their lives either
Even if someone tried to comprehend my life
I'm not sure it's possible
I've been here the whole time and I'm still massively perplexed

I display my emotions
Disgust
I shroud my emotions
Indifference
I **** my emotions
Hatred
Is there no escape?
Even with sanctuaries along the way
Life feels like
Everybody swims in the ocean
While I'm resigned to my lonely oasis
Is it possible to feel more alone than completely alone?
Like a cockroach consigned to living under the refrigerator
It gets so cold and dark down here
I forage for crumbs only at night
Mortally afraid of human contact
For I know that the boot follows the light
And why not?
In a world where our priorities obstruct our compassion
How much consideration should a real human show
to a lowly maggot like me
When they have to worry about paying the exterminator?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is dark magic
Here in my attic
A magician’s tactics
Cause pain emphatic

This magician gives me all I can handle
Until one day I’m dismantled
Like a once lit candle
Extinguished by the ice near Ymir
Birthing the Titans I fear
Bringing death here
Morphing me into a rigid wreck
Here in the frigid depths
I wish I left

The violence of violins
Lamenting the vile sin
Conjured by riled kin
Like they’re wild djinn
Can’t be muted
Only diluted
By becoming rooted
In thinking stupid
Avoiding Cupid
To join the putrid

The magician concocts potions
That excuse my emotions
As I forget devotion
For a temporary motion

The magician gives us difficult obstacles
And easily medicated excuses
So people won’t make things optimal
While purpose eludes them

Like Jekyll and Hyde
My hackles I hide
With shackles of pride
Covered in mystic thorns
So my wrists are torn
From the pain adorned
It’s my brain I mourn

The magician erects walls so thick
They separate healers from the sick
With magic bricks
Imbued by the magician’s enchantment
He builds a wall and then expands it
Until those inside become tantric
From the prison wall’s antics

Every time I turn the page
I am given rage
On the magician’s stage
Of the wars we wage
Under a curse of anger
Dehumanizing strangers
To deploy the Army Rangers
Perpetuating harming danger

The magician lies
The magician steals
The magician hides
What is real
Until I feel
The cold steel
The magician wields
Piercing through my electrified body
I guess the magician finally caught me

We have a conversation
talking for hours
maintained interaction
reveals personality.

We have ***
an exercise of empathy
maintained interaction
reveals vulnerability.

We have an argument
perceptions clash
maintained interaction
reveals differences.

We have a fight
fists fly strategically
maintained interaction
reveals aggression.

We have a war
priorities projected through tactics
maintained interaction
reveals love and hate.

We have a life
harmony is obscured by disconnection
maintained interaction
reveals humanity.

Society has made a pact
On how we must act
People tell me to be a real man
But that seems like a stupid plan
Because every time a guy describes a real man
I hear the way they perceive themselves
A father
Says a real man takes care of his children
A fighter
Says a real man is a protector
We need to break this masculine projector

I used to think being a real man
Meant having a *****
But I'm not even sure about that anymore

How do we unlock
This malebox?
We'd have to leave our houses of hiding
And walk to the road that connects us to each other
But when the fashion is to fake
Our compassion starts to break

In a world
Where things are simple
We can't have a pimple

In a world
Fundamentally filled with maleboxes
We search for a loving locksmith

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.

I walk a delicate line
down a hallway through time
the facade bends along with my apprehensive movements
to reflect my subjective individuality
until the walls are penetrated by insane interlopers
—zillions of zombies of zero—
their hands reaching into my thin corridor
shattering the windows I use as mirrors
giving way to a banshee hurricane
intimidation disorientation
kissing the wailing wall
heavy seas pervade my proximity
barely breathing under a wave of seething
manipulation is found where I drown
channeled beneath a turmoil spill
that fossils fuel through hostile schools
of thought advancing their plot
flooding this face down floater
so they can send a conniving boater
to enter my hall and lean me on the wall
to turn me into a mindless voter.

There's a contentious subsection
Of the homosexual community
That go in a different direction
Hoping to find social immunity
The word masculine
Is the mask they're in
To live life saccharine
Wearing a plastic grin
From the sensation
Of over-compensation
Actuating placation
To differentiate
From the effeminate
They say they're separate
But really they're just desperate
To be accepted
By their own dejectors
To not be rejected
They become defectors

To avoid ridicule
They stack their deck with nothing but physicality
Their mind minuscule
The albatross on their neck is a lack of personality
To please those that compare them to *******
Internalizing their homophobia
An infernal mighty cornucopia
Creating an over abundance of rules
One must follow to be a proper male
But we should jump out of the pool
If being miserable is what that entails

The more genuine version we see
The happier we all should be
Then we might all be free
But if I were to show glee
Someone might call me a ******
And I don't think I could hack it
When the rest of society backs it
With an approval that is tacit
So I convince myself I'm avoiding identity politics
Using total discretion
To make no impression
But my friends and family would know that's not what I'm doing
So why not tell them?
I haw and I hem
Because the underlying ghostly shame
Is the true nature of this social game
When you have the fame of the flame
You're told to get in a lane of the same

Erase my ******* sin
With the title masculine
There are practical reasons to hide it
But how much time will be bided?
Will my life be derided
Until the evil are delighted?

After all that time hope chasin'
I stumbled on a man named Mason
A man at heart but not in years
Love in my mind and in my tears
When we can't be together
For what seems like forever

Temptation when he tells me it's legal
But everybody would think I was evil
And laws become smudged
When everyone's a judge
Through the mud I trudge
On this path to nowhere and ask why
I can see happiness form in their eyes
When my walls begin to crumble
Because my Mason has disappeared

I live in the world
That makes me ashamed to feel love
And love to feel ashamed
There are asteroids floating in space
As I float dangerously in place
Before one hits my planet
I'd like to find someone that understands me completely
But the dust particles float around my cell
Sticking to my skin
Like tiny meteors constantly impacting me
I sink into the craters created
When my heart was cremated
The others were elated
When my love was traded
For a world with people I could talk with
I walk in a world with no one to walk with

We're in hell
Can't you tell?
No you can't
You only listen to the teller
All other voices are drowned
Because he's a yeller
For the useless things we're bound
That fill up our cellar
And our living room turns into a dying room
When the seller is the jailer
And salvation comes from tailors
Who can cover up the pain inside
With all the comfy clothes we buy

Money is the blood of our society
It's circulation provides oxygen
But we spill money into spilling blood
And we're funneled into killing love
So we can concern ourselves
With people not getting things they don't deserve
Rather than people getting what they need
Our blood starts clotting
In the fortunate arteries
As the rest of our body goes numb
It seeks medicine for healing
And drugs become our autoimmune disease
Redistributing blood to the suffocated areas
An unfortunate recompensing for injustice
When the persecutors
Become the prosecuted
Lives are exploded
Like Afghan villages
Lives can grow back
Like poppy fields

That's the score
And it makes me want to score
Until ****** drips from every pore
And ******* fills me to the core
I could just live at the liquor store
Where benzos are my father
And **** my mother
So I can ignore the death of my brother
My family is in trouble
Our society is in rubble

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

Scientists made a lofty discovery
The universe continually expands and contracts
In the exact same manner absolutely
So we ultimately live the same lives for all eternity
So we devised a way to send a message to the next universe
A message that would stay in place
Even without the existence of space
A message that would survive time
Even through the end of our line
The message conveyed:
Don't make our mistakes
Correct our sins

Our universe ended
The new one began

The first humans mindlessly worshipped the message
Hearts of the willing sacrificed
They killed for control of its mystic power
It belonged to whoever owned the ivory tower
Until religions were developed
Although they were all somewhat derived from the message
People began to see the message itself as a pagan hieroglyph
An incoherent interference
They killed all that worshipped it
Senseless slaughter
Things got hotter
When people were finally intelligent enough to understand it
They saw all the things we did wrong
And how to avoid those mistakes
But the things we did that were wrong
Seemed much more convenient and easier
They used the weapons we told them not to make
And the ideas we told them to steer clear of
Swords became guns
Racism became genocide
Love became hate
More direct ways of imposing their vision onto the world
Foregoing empathy and compromise
They submitted to the fascism of their subjectivity
And were plunged into the Dark Ages
Steel ***** and chains
Followed by bullet rain
Humanity was lost and found
Humanitarians gagged and bound
People had to make mistakes for themselves
Until they decided to stop living in hell
Humanity collectively decided to follow the message righteously
After they saw hope for the future
Through the vision our message provided
And they realized they should write a message of their own

You might be on ****
if you run over your own transmission
pushing your car as hard as possible
because Tik Tok by Kesha is playing.

You're definitely on ****
it afterwards you pull into a nearby parking lot
and decide to just shoot **** there
for the next few days.

You're not on **** anymore
when the business owner is fed up with you
and you're falling asleep talking to the police
who only find empty bags and tell you to leave.

The lines become blurred
when you're six months sober
and a psychosis has developed
to the point where you're hiding
behind your couch from the shadow
people with ****** rifles outside.

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

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

You came from Korea to start a farm
not to do any harm
just to build your barn
under Arkansas stars.

But you underestimated the pressure
of being considered lesser
in the land of western
hopeful investors.

All of the stress
to be the best
made you less
in this game of chess.

When the rain grows
one must lay low
by a tornado's say so
which is a brain blow.

Missing the old ways
your mother comes to stay
but you hope she doesn't sway
your children today.

Mother planted minari
where once there was none
it may not be a Ferrari
but it grows in the sun.

The innocuous plant isn't appreciated
when financial burdens aren't alleviated
the American Dream is steely gated
despite what it's really rated.

Mother had a stroke
the others couldn't cope
as lost lovers said nope
to their one true hope.

Surrounded by Christians
you concede your intuition
for American superstition
promising a healing prescription.

After the hard turn
of having your heart spurned
you watched your barn burn
like a form of heartworm.

You look at your wife
and she looks back
you see in your life
it's she you lack.

Now you understand what's important
and it's not business
you used to want to be a foreman
now just a witness.

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.

A naive missionary
Trying to be visionary
Did something real scary
He went to North Sentinel Island
A place inhabited by lost savages
And now nobody can find him
Because they violently ravaged him

He had visions of healing
And also God revealing
He was worth revering
After the savages hearing
His apocryphal cheering
Would stop their spearing
Causing societal endearing

But he arrived on the shore
For a one sided war
Of blood and gore
Until he was no more
This man of God
Saw man as flawed
And looked for applause
By teaching glorious laws
Of his divine cause
But met flying claws
He couldn’t pause
Their brains were too narrow
Much like their arrows
That flew like war sparrows
Into his bone marrow

Spreading God’s love
Without safety gloves
Leads to push and shove
Instead we must look above
While giving others space
Treating them with grace
And not seeing it as a race
Where their lifestyle must be replaced
Or their brutal culture erased
But be aware of the problems we face
When we start to desperately chase
Moments of transcendence
And fame
That will ultimately end us
In shame

Don’t mistake my kindness for strength
or my treaties for tanks
or my beatings for banks
I’ll bleed just from blanks
then I’ll flee to the flank
to get free from their spanks.

All the mistakes
my mind makes
are mind snakes
of blind faith
that finds fate
in grind grates.

You must be mistaken
when you say I’m misshapen
and there’s no way I’m this craven
I just look for a bliss haven
where I can kiss mavens.

You must have me mistaken for someone who cares
I’m someone who cares too much
I make too many mistakes to bear
and lose your touch.

You say you have no ***** to give
because it ***** to live
without bucks to bid
on the luck to win
so you shuffle spin
off my ruffled ridge
for muscled sin.

It was a mistake talking to you
mistaking the color red for blue
mistaking what you said as true
that you had a bed for two
until I read the news
you had the best to choose
so I bled and bruised
mistaking your clues.

There's a moat of sand
it's a bulwark for a prosperous kingdom
beyond the Rio Grande

treacherous trajectory
through an ocean of heat
on the way to their rectory.

There's a moat of sand
turning refuge into risk
dividing two brands

predators look to make one suffer
an ATV piranha's snack attack
tases pregnant mothers.

There's a moat of sand
on the journey from hell to heaven
where the blessed meet the ******

gnawed to the bone
by roaming coyotes
while searching for home.

There's a moat of sand
guarding providence
the bountiful land

just when you think it can't get any hotter
you see a shrine for the dead with a sign
saying they didn't bring enough water.

There's a moat of sand
that's unforgiving and cruel
so it's used by man.

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?

I peruse exhibits through the modern art museum
Nails hammered into wood
And trash strewn on the floor
I couldn't help thinking
What the **** is this ****?
These can't be the champions of modern art
Moonlight and Arrival morphed my empathy and perspective
The theater is fine
Music is there for those inclined to discover it
So what about visual art?
I know a few things for certain
Nails hammered into wood never changed my perspective
Nor does seeing a garbage can in a museum affect my empathy
Trash is not art
Trash is trash
Waste meant to be thrown in the proper receptacles
So as not to obstruct our view of true beauty

I will concede that
Beauty can be found in everything
Depending on analyzation variation
But those that live an examined life
Constantly see silver linings and sour grapes
Experiencing comfort in tundras to the point of banality
Those visions are much more interesting
in their organic state anyway
As opposed to an interpersonal expression of the seemingly obvious

So what to hang in an art gallery?
I have my own opinions
At this point in time
No visuals elicit more emotions
Than dank memes

When I'm consuming art
Questions are innate in my consumption
Is this a vessel for empathy?
Is this examining the human condition?
Dank memes meet those criteria
Satirizing the powerful
Highlighting emotions and virtues in ourselves
That we're either proud or ashamed of
Memes share a common thread with poetry
In the sense that everybody can create memes
Or be a poet
I get the impression that
Universality of art diminishes it's importance
In the minds of patrons
There's an element of truth to that
But what makes art special is quality
And what makes art truly special is high quality
And that's what belongs in museums

We think in money patterns
No peace from here to Saturn
When we live in money caverns
Tranquility lies in the clatter
Of echoes bouncing off walls
Traveling down darkened halls
Yet to be seriously explored
Where knowledge is stored
But the paths are abyssal
Leading to our dismissal
We cower next to the fire
It once provided light and warmth
Now we're just fascinated by it's chaos

I know I'm right
Eventually humanity will evolve
And if humanity doesn't reach that point
I'd be more correct than I'd like to have been

We need to withdraw from this system
And buy stock in each other
Whether you're Muslim or Christian
We should still be brothers
For we pursue freedom
As they purchase kingdoms
We wither in the waters of their wealth
We can see this isn't good for our health
When our species' main asset is empathy
And understanding
Now reaches no longer than the interest fee
And we're damning
Ourselves to a life in the furnace
With no humanity to be purchased

You're the knight
I'm your steed
There are signs
I can't read
There are things
I can't be
The choir sings
When you see
An engagement ring
Will set me free

But you turn into a beast
And I'm your prey feast
So I hide in the crease
Between best and least
Between sinner and priest
Between molasses and grease
I hide from a monster
That looks like a lobster
Mixed with a mobster
Using a humanoid claw
To impose martial law
To avoid my small flaws

You were my Goliath of reliance
Until we collided with defiance
And I didn't know how to cope
With a lycanthrope

You're a mixture of Jackie Chan and Jackie Kennedy
You're in between human man and human centipede
You walk through the quiet land as I hide in the trees
The hourglass empties as the sand tickles like fleas
You're a monster unreal
When this way I must feel
You have the power to give or take my heart
And you've used that power from the start

You're a Tyrannosaurus rex
When you flex
You're a scarab beetle
When you're evil
The combination of the two
Is the reason my anxiety grew

You're a demon
That can ****** loneliness
You're the reason
I've become a bony mess
When I get things off my chest
To expose my organs
And you call it just fun
So I realize you're the one
From the emotions you take
And the emotions I can't fake

So meet me in the shed
And give me Pumpkinhead
To forget the blood I've bled
And the taste of mud I'm fed
So you can be my monster
I'm not worth

From a monstrous storm
A monster is born
With monstrous horns
In a monstrous form

The genesis
Of my nemesis
Who venom spits
Left me with
A hefty myth
Of demonic gifts
Through which to sift
In that dark abyss
I found I missed
A beautiful kiss
To unclench my fist

I give monsters a wide berth
As wide as the Earth
To avoid all the hurt
Of being buried in dirt
Once I learn my worth
To them is the worst

Through the monstrous night
It takes a monster to fight
Against this monstrous plight
When the monsters have might

Don’t tell me I’m fine
Or tomorrow’s a new day
Just say never mind
And send me on my way
Into the world of grey
Through which I wade

My inevitable metamorphosis
Put me on negative courses swift
Now I can’t abort this
So my phone cordless
Provides a rather short list
So when I try to import bliss
I receive misery’s scorched kiss
In the form of crippling loneliness

I see the end of times
From severed ties
And clever crimes
In my never mind
I forever climb
While I’m left behind

In this monstrous land
I become a monstrous man
Because of the monstrous sand
Falling from this monster’s hand

You were more than a friend
you were more than a roommate
you were more than a trend
you were too great
you were more than more
core to core
we explored
and I want more.

The sun slowly rises
My slumber it slices
Regretting my vices
With a blurred iris
I join ISIS

I’m not a morning person
After my sleep’s immersion
And my dreams’ dispersion
I have a light aversion

I develop gasses
As the day passes
So when a new day starts
I feel the need to ****
Or I feel a burn in my heart

Disrupt my circadian rhythm
To disorient my vision
And rush my decisions
With fatigue’s incision

Traffic jams
Laugh at man
Trapped in sands
Of supply and demand

When I feel like I’m drowning
I affect those around me
With cranky sounding
Foot pounding

The watch unwinding
Is anger designing
So I’m loneliness finding
In my own business minding

The sun isn’t out
Shining on doubt
So I sit and pout
With no way out

How I act now
Will be how I’m seen later
So I can’t have a cow
Or they’ll call me a hater

Once my mind is quick
I’m still seen as a ****
They couldn’t be tricked
So my actions stick

Once my mind is sharp
I play the harp
To play my part
But they’ve seen the dark
Inside my heart
And in the sky
In disguise
As the wise
Lying lies

Once the morning is over
I search for a four-leaf clover
To spin my rotors
But they sense my odor
And retreat into death
Until I’m in luck’s debt

It’s afternoon
And laughter looms
Yet my path of doom
Left a bath of gloom
So I splash in my tomb
Of morning dew

When I think of death I get scared
About how I'm not prepared
Because no one will be there
When I think of death I get lonely
And begin to act fairly phony
To get someone to hold me
When I think of death I get crazy
My frantic thinking becomes hazy
As I wonder what will finally slay me
There's a thousand ways to skin a cat
But zero ways to bring it back
There's a thousand ways to hear it scream
But zero ways to hear it dream

Death is so cunning
I hear death drumming
In the distance
Despite resistance
I can't dispute
It's absolute
I hear a death rattle
Like an overdose
That's oh so close
There's no way to battle

A lonely coyote contracts rabies
As a scared mother drowns her babies
Submerging them in death
Cleansing them of life
Until there's nothing left
She turns off the lights
She has taken what she was giving
She has taken from the living

I see death in my dreams
While I constantly flee
These nightmares
Don't fight fair
They use a brutal truth
Of undeniable proof
That this time I must spend
Will come to an end
And there will be time I waste
Despite my haste
So I seek out purpose and glory
Before loved ones must mourn me

Death flows
With time's infusion
Time shows
Death's illusion
That we'll be able to take anything with us
Or that anyone will miss us

I watch time sink down the drain
Until nothing remains
Time batters
Until I'm flatter
And only death stands tall
Behind my mortal wall

I live out of a shopping cart
and sleep in a broken down car
I pray for a stopping heart
to end this life where I starve.

I’m outdoors people
because I ignored the steeple
and implored what’s evil
by sporting a needle.

I try to keep my windows up
in this lonely truck
but it gets hot as ****
and sometimes they get stuck
and I have to deal with bugs
that see me sleeping snug
and start reaping blood.

I can’t feel their biting tinge
while I’m sleeping off a binge
so mosquitoes feast on the unconscious
was it God who brought this
locust plague so noxious?
They eat my sleeping body
the way they eat the rotting.

The mosquitoes torpedo
into me like a needle
a million eels
poke into my skin
which has been unsealed
so they dive in
showing their hunger is real
and they’ll win
they cover my shins
and blanket my arms
their proboscis pins
build a blood farm
built on my harm.

I open my eyes
to my insect surprise
I detest these flies
covering my size
so I shake to try
scaring them from my sty.

A plume of black
lifts from my body
it’s blood I lack
to get them off me
so I’m left to their mercy
and they continue to hurt me
attacking en masse absurdly
eating the unworthy.

I feebly swat them away
while my body decays
I’m dispersing the fray
while hurting in waves
brought by a flood
of those that **** blood
I start to feel sick
but I guess I would anyway
when the needle sticks
this is the start of everyday.

This is the mountain I'm climbing
Due to circumstantial timing
The triumphant peaks change over time
Just one of this mountain's many crimes

The rocks on this mountain are flawed
But the mountain is flawless
Nature enforces restrictive laws
So my life becomes lawless
Through this insanity
I can't find my humanity
It's gagged and bound
In the lost and found
On this lonely hill
Where I get my fill

It's an uphill battle
Getting above this mountain
My conscience rattles
My eyes pour like a fountain
When I see everything suddenly
Like halos hovering
Over my past
Lying dead in the grass

Sometimes I must traverse a log to go over a bog
Then I must do the inverse to go under the smog
There are countless endeavors
Through varying weather
That leave me very confused
And frantically panicked
This mountain provides a view
Of the entire planet

This mountain made of dust
I scale because I must
Stillness develops rust
When cliffs await us
I see dead pioneers on the ground
I see weary travelers all around
I see fellow climbers as brothers
Unless I see them as a lover
Then I want to go cave exploring
Before my grave ends the story

Things should get weird
If banality is to be feared
In order to make a mark
Even if it's in the dark
To be perfectly candid
This mountain is my canvas
I carve my face in it as I go up
But my face changes as I grow up
So I start swag jacking
The backpacking
Mirror macking
Confidence lacking
Mountain attacking
Climbers
So I can find a crevasse to fit into
This mountain is easy to give in to

I can't grasp your moving picture
When you were the director
Of my life's lovely scripture
You were the connector
To a screen that dug deep
Your image makes me weep
Your image scares me to sleep
So I may dream of you
And a world for two
When in reality
You are one
And I am none
So I tell triumphant stories to myself
Like the past glories of someone else
I direct movies in my mind
My brain always on rewind
To a time I crossed a line
Painful memories to remind
I don't know what I'm doing
When your picture keeps moving

In my mind film keeps burning
In your mind film keeps turning
Life is tough without you
But that's because life is tough
And now you're just another part
Me another broken heart
I was dealt my cards
They got me this far
Then shattered to shards
Like the film of you
That hit the cutting room floor
The moment you walked out the door

I developed strife
From the memories I edited
In your life
Will I be credited?

Do I capitalize the g in God?
I guess my answer is self evident
I don't think I need to dot my i's
To receive God's love
But he also wants me to mind my p's and q's
So I can know His word
And understand His scripture
But society's an encryptor
Feeding me tryptophan
Until this cryptogram
Leaves me ******
By turning the Bible into a crossword puzzle
My only chance to prosper is muddled

I can still remember going to school
when it was raining
morphing into a mule
for things draining
from the life I thought I would rule
it's enflaming
all of this taming
with no one to save me
when the student meets master
whose whip is faster
than the policeman's blaster
protecting their interests
on the command of corrupt arbiters
so I can't make up the difference
when their money muscles are bigger.

They turn my peers into overlords
I can smell the overtone
of the rear odor grown
living in my motor home
parked at my job
the ark of the lost
heartless and tossed
friends of the frost
counting the cost
of commodity crops
guarded by cops
so I must pay the right price
or get filleted in a knife fight
by members of a different ark
their difference is stark
like they're the FARC
from Jurassic Park.

We once went to school together
until we were unspooled forever
diverging cultures sever
our tumultuous tethers
until we're rats racing
to the flats facing
the cliff casing
of a bullet blazing
through rodents raging
while automatically aging
in a game not worth saving
until our grave is paving
so the rats contract rabies
and try to enslave me
through shameless shaming
their nameless maiming
is grating gravely.

Their laugh of wit
a crack of whip
they slap I slip
in their pool of spit
which is fuel for grit
to not take their ****
until they break my hip
with the quake of work
I'm too raked and hurt
to spank their skirts
so I bank my irks
for another day
when I want to play.

The days continue to pass
as they misuse my ***
their issues last
through the time elapse
I can't seem to grasp
my life from their clutches
I tightrope with crutches
until I break for my lunches
or break from the punches
of a million miniscule crunches.

They break me in
they break me down
I can't hear any hymns
over factory sounds
I haven't been to the gym
since I developed this limp
being their gimp
getting ****** on the regular
my only communication is cellular
feeling so molecular
kicking for a living like Shane Lechler.

I look at the analogue clock
sitting next to my Econolodge cot
to see this is all the time I got
getting high smoking ***
pretending I'm something I'm not
which is happy
childhood friends outlap me
all the while laughing
about old jokes from school
like forgotten jewels
carried by a beaten mule
working for wool
so it can dress like a sheep
so it can get some sleep
to forget the regrets it's reaped.

It makes sense that a mummy was required
For the exodus out of my king rut
By wrapping me in silk and satin
And embalming me with love
But my brief time as pharaoh ended
A tomb at the pyramid I once attended
Thoughts of my sins plagued me
Did I get too froggy?
Or maybe he just met another sarcophaguy
Or maybe I misunderstood him
When he invited me over for desert

I wanted to conquer you
Like Brendan Fraser
Now I just want to talk to you
Like John Edward
I tried unearthing artifacts to channel your spirit
But your grave had been robbed
And after swimming in denial for so long
Wandering through the Sahara feels wrong
Your carefree kingdom is where I belong
But the evasive Ra warned
That the ghosts of snake charmers
Are abrasive and horned

Two together in this mystic place
My heart creates a rhythmic bass
Every time I see your face
Until it's erased
And replaced
By the terrible treble of trouble
Popping our soundproof bubble
With lyrics that are subtle
And screeches bringing rubble
Sounding like a symphony
Expressing the imp in me
And how I'm a **** indeed
No need for Web MD
To see I'm my own enemy
Who'll bring about the end of me
After all the entropy
That entered me
Mentors me

You erotically
Melodically
Fed off of me
Taught not to see
I'm not to lead
But you followed
I made us bleed
Until we hollowed

War drummed
Sore thumbs
Up in the air
Covering despair
Beyond repair
I want to share
But I'm scared
You won't be there

Drowning in my grave
I heard your song play
Through sonic waves
Which wither and fray
Like a donkey's bray
In a beeping den
Playing EDM
Before 3pm
So I fled

The crescendo
Of the innuendo
In your tempo
Made me explode
After a violent violinist
Told me I was finished
Because I was impish

Your guitar
Led to your car
Which took me far
Into shining stars
That became bars
That had me ensnared
But what did you care?
Tired of blank stares
Your tempo flared
Pushing me down a stairwell
After I didn't fair well
In your musical chair hell

Your physical contact makes a mystical impact
And your eye contact leaves me barely intact
So when I see your indifference I want to attack
The emotions my brain has foolishly stacked
But new information enters
Around you it's centered
To you I'm indentured
Mysticism is endured
On the end of your lure
There is no magical cure
For the thoughts you deem impure
So you drag me through the water
Morphing me into your unwilling otter
I'm pushed beneath the surface in your wake
I'm trapped in the penitentiary of your lake
By the spells I'm bound
In the hell I've found
Where my mind is a barbaric battlefield
Those I'm attracted to hide behind a shield
Those attracted to me I've buried in the sand
In between the two lies no man's land
Where a wandering mystic travels
I live in fear of his arcane gavel
That judges all things
Dematerializing kings
He searches for someone to elude
His magic bubble blocks the crude
Yet I'm magnetized to the magician
Who holds the key to my ignition
And although I'm just a misfit
I traverse toward mystics

Once I'm no longer awake
I'm put into dire straits
by my mind state
lying to make
me crying great
until I find a gate
to my one true fate.

My mind puts me in high and hung spots
with murderous guys and subplots
or both my eyes forming blood clots
the maze of my mind must get unclogged
leading me towards the one solve
retreating to what I know best
retreating to drugs
I come down off the eagle's nest
and onto the rug
where I crawl like a slug
from the high flying bugs
who want to eat my insides
and only exist in mind.

My brain gives me visions
of the **** I used to live in
making me want to give in
to the syringe's incisions
trapped on a crashing plane
I find a needle
to silence my thrashing brain
I stab the steel
screaming this isn't real
but that's just how it feels
after countless drug deals
it's all my brain reveals.

My mind gives me an option:
to face it
or to run
I can't embrace it
like it's the sun
and I'm the one
Gatling gun
spinning spun
until the chore is done
and the war is won
so I can score my dub
and get nightmare numb.

Once I find bliss sedated
the terror will have dissipated
but when I awake this is hated
bringing back the mist that faded
and all the chaos it created.

I wake up in a cold sweat
ready to face the day
I don't know how cold it gets
but I bet it's here to stay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of
but I can't be tied to those forever
so people forgive and forget
I try to forget but still feel bad
and I know there are still sore subjects
that I should be sensitive about.

Scrolling through Reddit I see a post
of Māori students at an airport
greeting their returning teacher
with a traditional Māori war dance
which was an admittedly sweet gesture
but something didn't sit right with me.

I wondered why the students greeting their teacher
had to do so through a display of militaristic nationalism
I wondered if that was the last dance the Moriori people saw
before the Māori genocided them for their resources
I wondered if the Māori danced like that
as they *****, murdered, and cannibalized the Moriori.

Wondering all of this made me ask myself:
Why did they have to greet their teacher like that?
The students wanted to make a big gesture
which dancing is perfect for
but dancing can also be vulnerable and embarrassing
because people may mock how you express yourself

but strangers at the airport are less likely to laugh at you
if you're doing a synchronized dance with a group of people
and the dancing is recognizably tied to national identity
because then it's a culturally rich dance
you're a xenophobe for laughing at
and that's what nationalism is:
strength in numbers and a readymade identity
in lieu of an individual personality
oftentimes for the sake of pistanthrophobia.

So as I read the circlejerking comments on the post
I wondered what the difference is between
a Māori war dance and a **** salute
I guess the Māori people have experienced
more oppression than Nazis
but nationalism is nationalism
and those who have oppressed are oppressors
and many who are oppressed would gladly
be oppressors given the chance.

Nationalism isn't healthy for culture
and often isolates people from other cultures
that are all combining due to globalization
which people fight to preserve their little dances and costumes
so we can stay in eternal conflict over delusions of supremacy
when the only nationality should be a global one.