Sitting in class
In front of the blank white math test I was in the process of failing
That I had skipped first period to study for
And instead just smoked my final final cigarette
I had a grand realization
I'm an idiot
I don't know how I hadn't realized it before
Between breaking my new phone to try and prove to my friends it was unbreakable
And sitting on my roof cardboard wings duck taped to my arms
With plastic shopping bag parachutes strung about my neck
Or when I asked I girl I hardly knew to a dance I hardly wanted to go to
Or at the dance, when I ditched her to laugh at the kid barfing in a stall
From the *** cookie he had just eaten
Honest mistake, I did it my first time, too
Eating acid turned out fine, though
Mushrooms, almost made me **** downtown
But hey, Shiva's in the walls
I love an audience
And I know they love my cusses
Once I put my arm around the wrong date
No just kidding,

I don't date

On vacation, I got stabbed between my small toe and the next
With a pencil
Now I'm afraid of wearing flip flops
I biked over the same patch of broken glass in the street
Three days in a row before I finally got a flat
I put duct tape on the frame of my new bike,
It looked cool,
And cutting it off with a kitchen knife
I sliced my wrist and nicked a tendon
Shot myself in the thigh with a BB gun
To prove it didn't hurt to people that didn't care
Twice
Shot my neighbor, too
I told her parents it was an accident
Statistically plausible,
but not this time
Got in a fight with my best friend
And made a Facebook status about how boring it was being suspended
Broke a sprinkler when I was bored
Blamed it on raccoons
It didn't work, the neighbors had caught on to me
Love poems don't come easy
Which is weird,
They're always better when no one loves you back
So I have a surplus
And apparently they say,
Giving that stuff away for free
Is a bit of a crime
Like trying not to rip my already ripped pants
or
Putting a sticker on my cello I couldn't peel off
Climbing over barbed wire to get high
by the octopus tree
I should of checked the penal code
Hiking at night is a crime
Ranger D. Heimer wanted me to tell you
It's okay, he's an idiot, too
September is not the eighth month
The handwriting on the citation isn't half bad, though
In the last three months,
I've had four flats on my bike
I haven't learned yet
The wheel still sitting in the hallway
I lost the repair kit
You think it it would of sunk in before
I failed my fifth math test in a row
I went to a party,
And I didn't do blow
Because I was tripping too hard
The white line looked too weird,
And my nose was still burning from the last line.
I dropped my ipod in the toilet
Then I dropped my dad's, too
Talked to gutter punks
(that's not the stupid part)
And shared a pipe with the sickest of the trio
Yeah, I'm sick now
Got angry at my mom,
But of course, I'm an angsty teen,
Decided to bike to the top of the greatest little hill around
And gave up three fourths of the way there
At least I gave one of my friends the chance to see me in that state,
His house was on the way,
And they say that bliss comes in two ways,
In ignorance or in enlightenment
That's too many choices for me
So instead I elected myself martyr
And grew my hair out to look like Jesus Christ
But now I just look like Charles Manson
I was going to do no-shave November
But I started too early
And ended even earlier
And that was before I realized I couldn't grow a beard
Fool me once, shame on you
Fool me twice, shame on me
Fool me thrice, and the fourths for free,
I make my own omens,
Then happily misread them.
So it might be starting to sink in,
But I don't think it matters much
Being stupid is a **** good time
Next Saturday, you're all invited.

So dusty,
what's the harm
Another shell of skin to cling to our jeans and old sweaters
Swallow it down with our table top soft butter
and the cowboy leather in our insides
will make us infinitely tougher

Barfing nails longer than the ends of gypsy hands
to scratch the antagonists
in our crystal ball's plans
Sorry, but bloodiness is what
my trombonist destiny demands
I'll slide you a swan song
to contemplate dark magick's sand
that spirals down the throat of the hourglass man
In 100 years time,
our empty glass bodies
will tip from the wind of a fan
held by a butterfly drifting through a faraway land

Hell, so why do we care
when anything at all goes wrong?
Yes, Devil most evil
I address you and everyone else
who resides in your throng
He just lit an unfiltered cigarette
said "just enjoy the song
and ******* lighten up a bit
Think your dead and burning
use your imagination
Whatever's in your head
you're it."

Goin down
Drowning out the sting
Salt water leaks
Burns like holy water
Not just from the cuts in my skin
In my spit
My eyes

Kept the straight jackets to make my masks
****** stitches, most favored gloss
Demonize pill popping even though it keeps the ******* behind the gates
Those ******* taste horrible with *****

Instead of getting **** faced to forget the artificial praise
Just throw em to the sea
Make sure it's the dead
Sleeping with the fishes and the girl I used to be

Better yet I’ll jump in hoping this is just a dream
Either its me dying in now or waking from vivid nothingness
But will it even be my own bed
His bed
Her bed
What the **** are these stains

Option 3: choking on thread and barfing up empty stomachs and swallowing my pride
Playing with fuckboys like a rejected barbie doll, a hallow head growing rhino horns
One hell of a drug
One hell of a *****
Pitchforks not hot enough to boil off plastic flesh

Next thing to bleach are the eyes
Can’t stand her disappointed eyes
My eyes
Hellbent *****
Reflecting vanity in broken glass
What the point for a window with no soul
Divine Frankiestien
That's  monster I’ve become

No

The monster they made me to be

The owl and the ***** cat
went to sea in a boat
without an oar
When the boat sailed home
the cat was alone
and the owl was no more

Hey ****** ******
I’ll tell you a riddle
and I bet you’ll never guess
That Jack B. Nimble
was Jack B. Quick
beneath Miss Muffet’s
dress

Little Sol Hornstein
sat next to Maureen
eating his Christmas
pie
He stuck in his fork
and pulled out some pork
And said ‘what a bad
Jew am I’.

Wee Willie Winkie
Tiptoes through the house,
Upstairs, downstairs
Quiet as a mouse.
Closing every window,
Locking every door,
Drinking all his daddy’s beer
And barfing on the floor

The hippy dippy spider
went uptown to score
He got a bag of ****
from the hippy dippy
store
He smoked up all that
**** with his hippy
dippy friends
So the hippy dippy spider
went uptown again

There was a crooked man
Who walked a crooked mile
He met a crooked woman
Who wore a crooked smile
He brought her to his crooked house
And upon his crooked bed
He had his crooked way with her
(And now the ***** is dead)

(And from an old restroom wall)

Georgie Porgie, puddin' and pie,
Kissed the girls and made them cry
When the boys came out to play
(He kissed them too cuz' he was gay)

I don't really know
who I am anymore.
What happened to the world,
the world I used to adore,
the world I loved,
for filling me with hate.
What happened to the old me,
the me that hated being called your mate.
The me that hated smiling and laughing,
the me that hated being happy,
arrrr, just thinking about it makes me feel like barfing.
Who am I right now, I still don't know
Where is the me that depised being called nice,
will I ever find that me again,
that me with the heart covered with ice.
Why can't I find the me that wrote for himself
and hated everyone equally,
including himself.
Oh why can't I find that me,
I feel a weird emotion without him,
but I cant' seem to cry,
even though I know he'll be back...
because "Evil Never Truly Dies".

We could not go out
Man were we *******
So we sat in the house
and ate all the food
We ate all the popcorn,
the peanuts and candy
And washed it all down
with whatever was handy

A knock on the door made
us pause from our feast
Then the door opened wide
and in walked the Priest
Soaked to the bone
from his head to his
toes
He said "someone help
me get out of these clothes".

Then the Priest looked
around, and then what
did he see?
He picked
out two somebody's
Billy and me

He took off his collar
and undid his pants
and with a wink and
a smile he started to
dance
He asked us to help
him remove all the
rest
And said we could all
play a game called
'undressed'
"A very fun game
I will show it to you
And I promise that no
one will mind if I do"

But our fish said
"Oh no, make that
Priest go away!
Tell that Priest
without pants
you do NOT
want to play!
He SHOULD NOT be
here promising
fun!
He SHOULD NOT be
here with his trousers
undone!"

"But I came here
to play" said the
half-naked Priest
"I know a few games
You should try them at least
These games are quite fun
I will show them to you
They involve sleeping
pills and a six pack or
two"

Then true to his word the
Priest cracked a beer
And invited us over with
a mischievous leer
“A sip of this stuff will
not cause any pain
Take a swig and I’ll
show you a new little
game"

"Put that down!” said our fish
“Make that Priest go away!
Tell that Priest without pants
you do NOT want to play!
He SHOULD NOT be here
promising fun!
He SHOULD NOT be here
with his trousers undone!"

But Billy and I were
a rebellious pair
And to be offered
beer was incredibly
rare
So we each grabbed
a cold one and in
one mighty swig
We downed 16 oz
like a couple of
pigs

And soon (very soon)
the room started to spin
And I vaguely remember
the Priest’s evil grin
And the sound of his
laughter as his shorts
hit the floor
And his clod hopping
footsteps as he locked
our front door

Then he took a few steps
towards Billy and me
and we shivered and shook
when he touched Billy's knee
Then all of a sudden,
or it seemed so at least
Billy threw up on the
***** old Priest
Yes up came the popcorn
the peanuts and beer
And covered the Priest
from his feet to his ear

Then without warning
and almost on cue
I started barfing
when Billy was through
The Priest gave a cry
and then lickity split
He ran from the room
(the ***** old ****)
He grabbed up his garments
and sped from our home
On his way out the door
he dropped his cell phone

So calmly and coolly
I called the newspaper
and then the police
to report the old *****
I said "you can't miss him
he turned left on Duke
He's completely naked
and covered in puke"
And within thirty minutes
the cops had their man
They booked him and
tossed him right into
the can

Then I turned to Billy
and gave him a smile
The Priest was in jail
and awaiting a trial
But Billy was pale
and didn’t look good
He seemed almost frozen
in the place where he stood
He had to sit down
and he looked pretty weak
Then he asked "when the hell
did our fish learn to speak?"

**** covered cloud
Come down from above
**** covered coud
Leaves **** flavored mud
I'm my lover now
that she's soiled in sick
I'd miss the other half
but she's dating a ****
he beats her and cheats her
he wheels and deals
He ghambles and rhambles
he lies and he steals
her black eye is healing
she's barfing again
the **** covered cloud
rains down her new men
she picks them all up
and lines them up slow
she gags and she chokes
like her mommy said so
she grows up abused
all tattered and torn
she gets tattoos and piercings
and a career in hard ****

Flashback...




We'd spent all day
In "the fields"
Not twenty yards from the whitewashed cemetery fence posts
Floating and then burning
Paper boats on a muddy puddle in a depression in the dirt

Phillip and Chris scored some Skoal From Danny or Billy, I forget which...
It was "long-cut"

We try a bit...putting it in our cheek
Like the big kids did
The Skoal making a strange and potent tea from our spit

The smallest amount of this tingly elixer is swallowed- and it's over.

I lose my lunch.
I am yawning in technicolor.

Chris and Phillip laugh and laugh.  
Then Phillip follows suit barfing on his shoes
Chris gives him an arm punch, with a smile.
I think Phil and I were both done with chew.

There was never a shortage of things to do here

Under an old barnwood board, was a magazine with glorious pictures that made us feel strangely isolated
From one another

We would memorize each line, each curve
For later when each would be alone
With the Sears catalog and some tracing paper.

We made single line trails for our bikes
With banks and jumps
Chris was the daredevil of the bunch
He would take a new ramp at top speed

His little brother would too
Sometimes with drastic results
Concussions and broken bones.

There's a chain store now
in the spot we called  "the fields". 

It used to seem vast.  
And now it looks small.
But that is the past.
Memories. That's all.

Myths, lost in Cartoon Network and its spawn,

fortunate-ly
most criminals, most out-side-the-bubble,
improper thinkers, if you will,
not right thinkers,
those
are not very smart

fortunately, we

have the internet, they left us that.
We can rest and recon
we, the people, can recoup from a coup to the knoggin

next, trip a trap, snare a glimpse of that golden thread
assign that care to the piece
of your core
that cares if you remain sane enough

and follow the golden thread, this one, not
the one connecting riven mouths
of joker gods, barfing in the gulf,
the MOMA tied a cube of hay,
with a golden thread and golden needle,
in NYC, which led to me seeing Moma Luis
and his daughter who goes by
Franceska, spelt otherwise,
unspooling a golden thread on a stage
a few furlongs here
a few furlongs there
in fathomless billows of life,
stitching those gaping mouths shut, for me
thus I share the joy of being
me
and you may imagine I am more
than words
mere me dear reader, quite enough to entangle
anonymously

with a mad woman, wrapped in a feather boa,
needing the laugh, to spark
the healing
healing itches, you know, if you have scars
healing
itches, scratch with gloves,

don't destruct your self, for the rub

the touch
of love, ha, define your terms mofah!

What's love got to do with it, art
official, proper, Q-17, a mystical number
qua
quaf the essence

a puff of smoke, I paid a ttent ion to to

find Babylon, this guy did not know you, Prince
of Persia...

you a hasbeen mofah we be a little bit farther now
push a bit
push a bit
7 come 11, watch I measure smoke cought
or caught in my throat

the artificial-ness, we must dis-pute in time
******* smart
self
aware.
Watch y'self, this is the age of miracles
we got us a clown

wombed-man... it all got choool
the facts
of now
make next appear possible.

forward and up, tough for people
right
now

some words struggle for worth
values
meaning meaning meaning worth paying you
to know
add to your childhood collection of coolhood collecti
stuff
to claim you own it own it own it

ify ify if you glow, who needs to know, like
from a star
POV
Bette from a distance, a mob is a mobmind,
a shared thought you got wrong,
twisted, twisted, twisted to true

and the signal fades into the sound of the helicopter
setting new power poles.

The grid is using humans skilled in war manuevers
to set new power poles.

Thashits poetic.

And my magi-pen don don don't run
dry,
in the summer
we go deep, down to where the big rocks
that would not break rolled
to a stand still
y'know.

a selah, preceding a halle lu Jah.

Another fine day, in Pine Valley, lookin' west.
for overlooked
jots and tittles tatooed is silly places.

It's apparent a parent would glare at their transparent impairments. A viral mimicry, a parrot, coughing into their coffin, barfing leads to causing unstopping hand washing. Watching the currently conceived serene scene to see if they been seen. Stop it.

I regret the damage Obama wrought, the Haitians he killed, the wet
men he sought. He ruined Biden like silk worms in underwear after
fallin' south to baloney places somewhere. A fat Georgian hurricane
came, lingered & went. It made straight my pole, but the neighbor's
it bent. "Be calm," I warned the toll collector, as I gave her her bath
because she farted so often we both had a barfing laugh on the long
turnpike of love that began as a 20-mile-Boston-******-baiting path.

Oh Jesus Christ, my favorite Lord, your Swedish nurse is a medical
***** smörgåsbord. Pelf = wealth, Bob ***** was ******* himself
in the dark behind Sam Walmart, slummin' in wet-cardboard stealth
up from the 11th dank, corrugated brown-paper hovel to the twelfth
The ***** garbage man I fearfully fear doubles for Trish Van Devere
Part your unparted lips for 4 departed party-doll partiers partying at
the lipstick department's impartial lip-parting party in apartment 44
Lend me both of your sweet **** as only they can end my epileptical
fits. I yearn for you when my *** is beat; off with solid sox that you
gots on your feet! Her queer name's Elizabeth Regina because she's
got ***** & a 90-year-old ****. She is married to a **** who loves
to drink 4-bile **** beers, Jew-brewed in a butcher shop's slop sink.
We will get along royally like a pig king & a slim mistress 'cause in
my first ****** trial queen queenie'll be a fig-scarfing, dim witness
I regret the damage Obama wrought, the Haitians he killed, the wet
men he sought. He ruined Biden like silk worms in underwear after
fallin' south to baloney places somewhere. A fat Georgian hurricane
came, lingered & went. It made straight my pole, but the neighbor's
it bent. "Be calm," I warned the toll collector, as I gave her her bath
because she farted so often we both had a barfing laugh on the long
turnpike of love that began as a 20-mile-Boston-******-baiting path.

(feels not as original or a truth of ideas however schemes well)
Tally of mace on nucleus of life's decrepit rung
Desperate dance attributes poison apple and silver tones
Inducing revealing cold eyed banter vaudy poems
Insidious demon tongue nor right from wrong
This is our Halloween
Layers of loess everywhere that time calls out
To the lashes of rancid social whips
Daring as shackled warted frogs motionless hips
Another death angel amasses and stumbles about
Forensic silk of life's intonation...
to defer avid devil
voiced cloth into... pathetic aberration
Masquerader not knowing right from wrong
This upon our Halloween song
Aptly a force fire and ice
That strikes a zeal
The zombie pieces of imbued flesh squeal
**** flying birds for altar thrice
Rescind all spots in the pews evil runs through
Sharing nightmare of attrition with nervous children who
Invoke ******* ghostly images of iron bound evil views
In shadows of society's passion of rot
Dire is walking misbegotten ground
Hate fear floating abyssal holds resounds
To wear costumes and rejoice barfing... who fought?
To next generations this passion we try to endear
Is an act as desperate as it is most insincere
This unfortunately my vicious evil queen
It bequeaths the truth of all our Halloweens

Oh Jesus Christ, my favorite Lord, your Swedish nurse is a medical
***** smörgåsbord. Pelf = wealth, Bob ***** was ******* himself
in the dark behind Sam Walmart, slummin' in wet-cardboard stealth
up from the 11th dank, corrugated brown-paper hovel to the twelfth
The ***** garbage man I fearfully fear doubles for Trish Van Devere
Part your unparted lips for 4 departed party-doll partiers partying at
the lipstick department's impartial lip-parting party in apartment 44
Lend me both of your sweet **** as only they can end my epileptical
fits. I yearn for you when my *** is beat; off with solid sox that you
gots on your feet! Her queer name's Elizabeth Regina because she's
got ***** & a 90-year-old ****. She is married to a **** who loves
to drink 4-bile **** beers, Jew-brewed in a butcher shop's slop sink.
We will get along royally like a pig king & a slim mistress 'cause in
my first ****** trial queen queenie'll be a fig-scarfing, dim witness
I regret the damage Obama wrought, the Haitians he killed, the wet
men he sought. He ruined Biden like silk worms in underwear after
fallin' south to baloney places somewhere. A fat Georgian hurricane
came, lingered & went. It made straight my pole, but the neighbor's
it bent. "Be calm," I warned the toll collector, as I gave her her bath
because she farted so often we both had a barfing laugh on the long
turnpike of love that began as a 20-mile-Boston-******-baiting path.