Word salad. Everyone a poet. But use the correct fork.
Sometimes you’re the road sign, sometimes the weary traveler.
Woke up craving attention again. The cat was unimpressed.
Pay no attention to my browsing history. I’m a writer, not a serial killer.
Women never want much, only everything you are or will be or can’t.
He said he would stuff my taco unlike any man before him,
and boy did he! So full! I’ve always wanted a man who could cook.
Some day’s, you just know that the jail time was worth it.
Dementor support group meets Thursday evening at Starbucks.
Cows who give milk for free only meet lecherous farmers.
Australia’s Oldest Man Knits Tiny Sweaters For Injured Penguins
Relearn the dying art of thinking before you ******* speak.
I scream. You scream. We come. Police come. Awkward.
Jumpin’ jizzimy Jehoshaphat. Sticky patrol cars. Safety catches.
Thought it was a loofah, but it turned out to be steel wool.
A few moments of pleasure. A full year of skin grafts.
Onan’s Handy Man Service. No job too small. Try me.
Sixty is the new 40? Try getting your ***** to believe that.
Often lost but never alone. Handy to have a hand handy. True love.
You meet the love of your life and find out she puts ketchup on pizza.
I never flirt with danger but danger just keeps on insisting.
Life hits like a girl. Thing is, like a girl that hits really hard.
She almost put on ******* today, it was a clothes call.
She lost me at: Forgot the safe word? Excellent! Here we go.
Her ad slogan: my greatest satisfaction, awakening your passion.
She dumped me because I just stood there with my moves drooping.
Watching Internet *** is like ******* without arms.
I bet that pride of yours doesn’t enjoy snuggling like I do.
Sobriety, never as delicious as an exquisite bad lifestyle buffet.
Ask your doctor before beginning the ****** and whiskey diet.
You don’t have to be desperately lonely to tweet, but it helps.
Yep. Something is happening. But you won’t know what it is.
The only fact is that you’ll never understand anything at all.
***** anything you like. After all, only everyone will see it.
Sleep children. Sweet Dreams. Dreams of angry cassowaries.
Nanny will be here to sweep up the pieces in the morning.

there's a wasp nest in the roof tiles
when it rains they all drown and get angry and stab you to death

the school up the road
   kid with the big cardboard
whacks the ground
envy of class
   ******* mother dripping
croissant ears and belgium tails

no this, isn't where i -

  no matter
if i pass through myself i'll get to you
god i'm pathetic
pathetic pathet-
Ah,
good. Here we are
back again

yes, this warm embrace
feels like styrofoam
in winter breeze
crawled on by the ants

your plaintive smile of
split wood
rusted tin and copper green
damp coffee beans and barley mold
tumbled **** and dry retch

light a candle in a puddle
watch it fizzle and melt

beneath the pavement flecks
you once dreamed of caverns
of solitude and lime
biscuits and frozen pizza

distance is always warmer in memory

now
                 we're just

rows of slates stitched break and crack cross hatched
the greased snide of new age atheist
scrambled eggs of surplus tongues
muzzled **** of an aphasiac dynasty

weightless

yesterday i read an essay on post-colonialism
and then watched some ****
of a japanese woman ******* on some african man's feet
he looked mostly scared
    somewhat confused

its all so
  unbearably inundated in discourse

i tend to prefer sleep these days
i guess that's getting old

but there's always a guilty disgust
in knowing you're the intended audience


white man is a gaze
reified in disappearance
immortalized by impotence

a genocidal roar
of muffled incompetence

Now finally having time to bring thoughts to light,
I’m unsure of which words to write and which ones will portray me right

Tongue’s caught in a trap of a cat,
And not one I’m familiar with
With no book or manual to refer to
I’m going to have to test this by trial, and by error too

Wanting to write exactly what’s on my mind,
Seems I can’t quite pick out all the thoughts that constantly churn and swirl,
sift and whirl,
Ideas that make the milk curdle and are guaranteed to make you hurl

I’ve never been one to thirst for payback,
But the road to the backtrack is turning me into an aphasiac,
And second-rate concerns are the cause of these unnecessary setbacks,
So I can’t allow myself to be another one who gets sidetracked

I’m trying to step out of the lines, trying to create my own version of “fine”
But the world is pushing me back, spitting back at me: “not this time”

Narrow hearts outnumber thoughtful frames of mind,
With dispositions crowded in self-interest, our objectives are misaligned

I tell myself that I live for me, not for you or your expectations,
But if that’s the case,
Why am I tattered and torn by all these refutations?

Something has hit me, it’s all about how you define the decline,
Or if you recognize the “decline” as a divine sign,
Or as a benign design leading to an emotional incline.

And lately, the decline is steady and sure,
And I have yet to find someone with a brain that isn’t premature

Now, so many people indulge in myth, magic and voodoo
It’s stemming from all these mediocre attitudes.
No hint of modification or revision, the world is being caked in a filthy residue