"cease fire" spouts microphone,
hot blood on tongue,
the wheels whirl,
dramamine for my ex-girlfriends,
dramamine for my future binge--
will this time do?

"listen, listen",
nah-- there's a war on,
we've got **** to do,
dramamine for the foothills of Dakota,
dramamine for the brothels of Orleans,
will I make the sun?

the vultures feast prematurely,
the death masque,
the collegiate, the *******, and the cry--
dramamine for the funeral singer,
dramamine for the swollen shrapnel,
let's just wait for the savior.

Hella business
Got hella *******
Poppin double bottles
With a couple of mistresses
Stellar mistreatment
Here's the key
Lock em in the cellar
Forever their memory lies
But a troubling mystery

Hysteria erupting
Like waves gushing
From the tip of my *****
My genius is better
I'm the King here's my scepter
Now watch the teeth
You worthless Queen
Or I'll stifle them screams

I **** ******* on trampolines
Motion sickness?
Overdose on Dramamine
Slave to the magnitude
Of my impressive **** munching
Exploring deplorable nether-regions galore;
Can't touch me you got nothing
Broke *******
Grind your brain like morning coffee beans

Shame is a word just outside the boundaries
of my fabulous vocabulary

Oh, am I contrite?
How trifling
Check my charm I'm enlightening
Enigmatic and igniting sporadically like lightning
Magically radical voyaging down
                                                           down
                                                  down the rabbit's hole
Inciting excited riots to light fires spark fuses and chew on live wires
You do not frighten me.
Delivering excruciating asphyxiation to every pwn'd n00b
Is my modus operandi
And this is my magnum opus

I have Tourette's

Conceive these merriments of abhorrent mental abortions
Precisely concise and incisive concocting incoherent comatose monstrosities to flatten your lifelines
Conduct these ensembles of debauchery and narcotics -
I'm fascinating;
Crippling your mind like a lobotomy and tripping the light fantastic through bombarding planes of consciousness
I'm on acid thraxXx'd the **** OUT and faded
Levitating fading and oscillating in time while inflating my ego

But lets be realistic
the caliber of my linguistics is intrinsically aesthetic
but none too altruistic
Untrue!
Be reasonable lest I demand be-headings on grounds of treason
Its not hard for me -
It's profound, the sound of suffering;
I'll swallow your soul
'Tis the season!

Inference for instance -
****-hand upturned to oceans of incessant peasants
Pestering to ****** and fluster your festering ****-hole
Exact my revenge; begin phase mayhem
initiating total brain annihilation
interring bodies posthaste with skilled persistence
And sporting in poor taste
RESISTANCE IS FUTILE

You who peers through eye of the pyramid-
Would you be so kind as to interpret my footprint at face-value?
Do you take me for a fool yet seek prophets reaping profits?
Listen to them sleep, baaah-ing away like flocks of little sheep
My hearts not on my sleeve but I have a trick or two up there;

Now bow before my marvelous flow
As I behold my throne whilst throwing bows and exposing hoes.

Relaxin' is a mental state
I like to be in.
Doin this entertainment business
makes you feel
more like
not a free man.

Sustenance is what I needed!
It's a must we get
back to the basics.
Let's forget self hatred.
It's too blatant...
The things we say and do
to make
me
you
Feel blue...
                   so blue...
                                    so blue...
                                                     so blue...
Ahhh,
Take it easy
God please make me see
That I'm speakin in vein
about the pain I can't contain
without the doctor tellin me
*****, you ****** crazy!
Unless you take a drug or 3
or some Dramamine... some Dramamine... some drama, I mean...

My mind state is buggin me
Why is no one lovin me
like my favorite soap opera star On tv?
I thought it was real and not a fallacy... and not a fallacy.
Why has my surroundings taught me
That I need a pill
to heal?
When all I need is some spiritual feed.
Relax...
Take my time...
Set a course...
Breathe in...
Thoughts of success and not divorce!
Breathe out...
Stress and pain feeling no remorse!
It's insane
that a mere mortal
could be on the border
when everything doesn't have to be
so stressed out (F'ed up!)
and outta order!

RELAX!!

Drip yourself into a cup
Fill up your body with antiquity
Let the collagen insist
An allegory of Capricorn
Memories crystallised
Settled in
Forevers harvest
Insensitive
Misconstrued chemical
Collective symmetry's sin
A condition, livid
Fleeting in Human imagery
Ships break
Loop our tongued
Hands, tossed in Dramamine
Whittled in a succession of malleable fashion
Talent spilled spread in supper
Collate our atrophy
And drink from baroness
Flavours tarnished
Super-collider
Blood soaked in Gematria
A garden of totality
High brow comparison
Entitled in your vacuous stigma
Forever burning
In the lesser key of Solomon
28 daemon
Tessellation in trigonometry
Temperance towards an infinite
Champion of mind, complex

"traveling swallowing dramamine
feeling spaced breathing out listerine
i'd said what i'd said that i'd tell ya
and that you'd killed the better part of me
if you could just milk it for everything
i've said what i'd said and you know what i mean
but i still can't focus on anything
we kiss on the mouth but still cough down our sleeves"

maybe we could take a trip to one of those musical roads
that are cut to hum a tune

let our ears buzz away the dark thoughts threatening
slithering, come-hithering

slide inside my wisdom teeth set on edge
til my voice is honeybees and my throat a hive

now my whole body is a single note i can't sing
and my spine is b flat since

silence used to be my blinders but now it's garroting gas
and you keep telling me

that existence leans towards chaos as inevitably
as the force of crystallization

and the neat order we enjoyed is diffusing
and the bees are disappearing
so let's just be friends.

Wasted words I should have thought instead of said
Wasted dreams of who knows what stuck in my head
Wasted thoughts and wasted time,
Wasted explosive dramamine
With about fifty billion fuses.

Wasted money
Wasted laughs
On wasted verbal acrobat
-ics that used to summon smiles,
T'would only last but for awhile
Before they'd disappear again
Though I may not see you,
You're still my friend.

Wasted smiles on
Wasted jokes
Wasted guys in overcoats
Written on pages
Never finished
Endless stages.

Wasted sorrow
Wasted pain
We may ne'er connect again
But I still love to make you laugh
Though you may think I'm such an ***.

I am wasted.
Wasted for the better ends
Wasted for family and friends
But I still see where hope begins...

I am wasted.

We are the people we are
Far from the people we should be
Humor makes up the difference
In every uncomfortable instance
Humor I must know
To soften the blow
And make life enjoyable
Humor is always employable

Negativity carelessly creeps
From somewhere deep
I feel tragedy
Grabbing me
I must rhetorically escape
These problems will deflate
Once I receive a joke
After taking a ****
With familiar folks

We're all somewhat stand-up comedians
In front of our friends
The pros have no way of seeing them
So specificity we lend
It can be trite and true
Or bright and new
Curing the blues
To help get you through

To keep from constantly imagining
The endless amount of tragedy
I must have a sense of humor
To ignore the hectic rumors
Or the life ending tumors
Or the treacherous suitors
My only tools are words
And all my words are tools
Turning sages into fools
If they want to bring me down
My words can steal their crown

The albatross around my naked neck
Is my greatest source of comedy
Adding perspective to a stacked deck
Turning drama into Dramamine
Putting on a mask like Halloween
When the darkness follows me
Humor keeps me from wallowing
In my own self pity
I'd rather feel giddy

I hate myself so much sometimes
Humor can help remove that grime
Not getting rid of it completely
But not letting it cut so deeply
It's the only thing that can treat me
When life decides to beat me
I respond by feasting
On pain
And ******* out harmless humor
Which drains
The sensation of being a loser

That feeling you get when your friends laugh
That feeling you get when your friends clap
Like violent gunshots in the distance
Humor alleviates the agony of existence

He awoke at four that morning with the sunrise.
"Time to go, babe, get ready," he said with a smile,
Thinking I had been asleep, unaware
I lied awake all night, waiting anxiously.
I wondered if he thought it rather strange,
His little girl wanted to deep-sea fish.

He hand-made ham sandwiches with cheddar cheese--
(Because he knows that cheddar is my favorite)--
And then forced me to take some dramamine.
"It keeps you from puking your lunch," he teased.
I didn't fuss at him for giving me the **** pills.
I was ready to catch my first Atlantic shark.

Florida's early mornings aren't that warm,
So he gave me his old jean jacket as we drove south.
The dock was full of average sailor types--
Our captain's name was Anderson, I think.
Anderson looked just like his boat too,
Weathered by the wicked waves of the ocean.

The boat would swerve and I would sway so awkwardly,
Unbalanced like a newborn giraffe.
Dad gripped my shaking shoulders and whooped,
"This one's gonna be a beauty, you can mark my words!"
I snatched, tugged, and reeled violently--!
The beast finally surfaced with the tiniest plash.

She wiggled on the hook, to my mild astonishment,
Slippery, slime-covered, and small in size.
"It's a white snapper!" Anderson boomed.
She was sixteen inches and diamond white,
Glistening in the sun like the greatest treasure.
Dad patted me on the back, chest swollen with pride.

Catching Atlantic sharks didn't matter now.

My eyes are bloodshot,
Im drunk with knowledge,
Stumbling home in the darkness of morning,
Dramamine floating on through my ears,
senses dulled
my worn feet drag me toward my home.

Beyond comprehension
Beyond any sort of caring
High on apathy, I'm jaded beyond myself.
Accomplishments only open doors to criticism
to further my cynicism.
My sight is dry from ebony text on manila pages,
and LED lights.

I trudge in the quiet of the small town night,
no one was a awake and light was foreign
the only sight allowed was held hostage by the sickly
orange streetlights that depressed me more than
the situation itself.

Home.
Bathroom.
Bed.
Rest.

100 milligrams of flexeril
to relax my beating heart
until the muscle stops
flexing
beating
pumping.

100 milligrams of restoril
and maybe
finally
i can sleep.

maybe
i can finally sleep.

waking up has become such a chore
such an unpleasant experience
and if this doesn't stop it,
nothing will.

flexeril and restoril
and 45 milligrams
of methadone
because all i could score
was four and a half pills.

30 milligrams of phenagren
just to make sure
i can keep it all down.
i heard you could use
dramamine
but hey,
who wants to risk it?

i've taken my last chance.

15 milligrams of xanax
and if i can make it
for another hour or so
i won't even remember
what i've done.

this will end with a clean slate,
me on the floor
*******,
saying mother,
mother,
what the **** did i do?

if i can speak at all.

290 milligrams
to prove
this is not
a cry for help.

She radiates brilliance based on fine features, good form and skillfully applied cosmetics.
He balances confidence and accessibility with an unerring certainty of success.
The universe is expanding, Inflation rampant,
Stretching everything more than any yoga instructor would allow.

Our planet is stuck in motion at hundreds of thousands kilometers per second.
I stock up on Dramamine and Ginger Ale.

She worries that she will never see him again.
He is lost in the business of the day.
These galaxies race away from us faster than the speed of light
And are accelerating more each trillionth of a second.

Some Alien out there has calculated that this is the last week to DVR an episode of the Game of Thrones before losing all contact.
Some Star Watcher is now stuck with a static picture of this faraway galaxy
from here on out.

She is not simply a set of particles:
                                she is moving very fast.
In relation to her changing position in space,
                                he is moving even faster.

This universe is not stable;
It strays too far from itself
Running away from a past that was too small.

This universe is accelerating
As if it has immunity from moving violations
Or has appropriately mounted a very good radar detector.

One day her particles and his
Will dance tumultuously in the debris encircling some infant sun
Or get pulled into a black hole.

She radiates,
He balances,
The universe inflates,
Stretching everything way beyond belief
And ultimately, slightly out of reach.

-- Zumwalt (copied from www.zumpoems.com)

I'd like to be
Bukowski today,
I'd like
to get a good **** in
before
dusk,
and a good drink in
at some point,
I've wanted some Wild Turkey
more than anything.

A good ****
when done right
without
the spring-loaded
traps of love,
just *******
until your body swells,
can make you come
for days,
and a good drink
is good for washing out
sadness as it pukes dramamine
in your stomach,
and Bukowski for a day
would be a lemon.

This is pretentious
as ****. I am a
pretentious ****.

"So the thing is, the thing is. And that thing is this:

I live in a bit a blurr (a bit of, sorry), I can think (can’t, sorry), I am forever interested in disillusion (how am I still breathing?). What are grammar, what is speling, spieling all the **** I used to feel so burn in stomach; I used to be so alive.

Maybe it was the Dramamine I took in bed this morning with twice my scrip of xanaxian colored pillz devouring like candy yum how delicious is it to disappear, I am in love with the Nothing of it all (I’m no nihilist, though, no.)

For example, for proof, I shall explain how yesterday I had a long beautiful walk along the water with lovely friends and we laughed and I even ate healthy even though I did drink (how many nights of the week do I? Don’t ask, please, but it’s New York, that’s what we all do — right, that’s what we all do?)

But I’m not a sad girl, I’m not a sad girl anymore, I’m just a blurred girl now, I can’t even see myself straight, how do I expect anyone to see me. (Should there have been a question mark after that.)

Switch lines like knives’ eyes (wait, what kind of line, literary or otherwise?) I try to focus on pages, I try to focus on work, but all I can do is mutter and mispell misspelll twice and attempt to convince myself (and you, sir, lady) that I’m perfectly fine. Italicized.

The truth is (and here’s the crazy part) I actually am fine, I actually am fine for the first time in a long time, I’m mostly actually amazing and ecstatic and all those great ALL CAPS words we toss around in life on phones in text like little sweet congrats donuts, but I guess the truth is that I’m also something else, I’m also volatile, I’m both happy and a mess, I’m just in progress, I guess. I’m honest, I’m honest, I’m not hiding this time behind a second person narrative (god how comforting those babies are).

No, this time, I’m just telling the truth, and the truth is the thing; and the thing is, I am better than I’ve been in a while except in certain small moments when everything collapses inward crushing down, and in these moments, I am helpless and hapless and less than everything I want to be. I want to be perfect, you know. I want to happy all of the time.

I want every day to be like yesterday.

But today is not. Today is just wrongly prescribed glasses making everything all hazy glazed over, today is just overused parentheticals explaining things to people who don’t need to be explained to.

Feel free to hate me, I do sometimes. Feel free to love me, I do sometimes. Feel free to vindicate me / indicate me / masticate me in crunching acid commentary.

but GUESS WHAT

today is just today

tomorrow will be tomorrow

(obligatory obvious, sorry)

But it all adds to the very bones of the thing which is: this moment I want to ***** up all my self indulgent sadness and be okay, but I cannot do anything but snuggle it in corners into words and have faith that the other end of the daylight holds a girl in sharper focus than this one"

Back stage everyone was in a huff getting ready for the show
The critics were in the balconies
The understudies waited jealously in the wings
A fresh crop of new actors were about to take the plunge
To some this was just a pit stop to fame
To others this was their big break
And to the rest it was a moment where people would chew them out and pick at all their rookie moves
The actresses eye make up so rainbow-vibrant
Like oil spots
Popping Dramamine so they'll be able to stomach the ride
The men putting brill cream in their hair
Looking like quaffed oil slicks
Like they ran their fingers down an dip stick and applied generously
They all had great, even sun tans
Melanoma was of no concern in the tanning beds
And the burnt skin was just picked away
Sunspots

Here it comes curtain call
"Places everyone"
Time for this debacle
Everyone take a lap at the salt lick for luck

Take a bow
Not a dry eye in the house
They cast recedes back stage
Crying, hugging
They congratulate each other
But now live in paranoia of what the reviews will say
The applause outside is nonstop
They're all gonna need Melatonin to sleep and end the excited squeaks

They all get in their cars
Their SUV's
4 doors
2 doors
Hummers
All terrain vehicles
Taxis
Buses
Trains
And get rest for the next show tomorrow

As I'm left here driven to madness by guilt
Because I paid off the crowd to clap and the pundits to write rave reviews
That was the act for this evening, a tor de force production

my furniture is sentient
and i am not as real
as i might like to be.
mild hallucinations,
like dramamine
without the paranoia.
is this a dissociative?
i did a little research
and i was going to have a sitter
but it came early and i
wanted to try it and - yes
i am just one bad decision
away from prison, one bad
decision away from lying
unconscious in a ditch.  
salvia is legal  and
causing me to calculate
the realities of the life
i am choosing to steer
with reckless ambition.

love doesn't end
like piano keys
across an array,
the dream of a body
and a mind,
across the spray
of the ocean
and a memory
of kisses
shared in the screen
of a heart's blinding display,
i have hoped for a long time
for a bridging of time,
a feeling of the stomach
and it's dramamine
against hope.

They say I'm in for a year long trip. But maybe less.
a year, or less, of sea sickness, the kind of which no Dramamine will soothe.
I'm surrounded by water I can't keep down
and kept afloat by dark women in white coats.
This clipboard is my life-vest.

Better say good bye now because,
when I finally wash ashore, it won't be to the home I left.

My bed will look very different.
My lover, too.  It will be much longer than a year for her.  
She'll live a lifetime, again and again, with every moon and every sun,
Her body revealing the truths her spirit can't yet face.

Until then she'll stand by water's edge and throw corked bottles of brilliant green past the froth, invoking Poseidon's dominion,
inaudible over the ocean's orchestral din.

Take your Dramamine
and don't worry
about your screaming,
it will be alright,
it's just twenty-two miles
of twisties.

Dramamine colds the soul, with or without any holes
With life has become something of another one
Wanting mass appeal yes and..soul appeal yes and
So I choke onnmy breakfast cereal
Conductive thoughts become real
You know you come up with, the best shitcuz youre sad sometimes

Ill rumors slid down my throat, gelatinous and coated in bitter mucus - reminiscent of when I was five years old, just dared to kiss a slug found in the school's daffodils. They burned my esophagus, leaving me without taste for days. They left me stumbling over too big, too-there feet to the nurse's office in search of Dramamine.

it all spewed from your mouth
like boiling hot coffee falling to the ground
you slipped me the cue, showing angles on the green
equations, calculations, you said it was easy
everything is easy to you
you spoke of flight patterns
and aerial views
you didn’t mention the airsickness
nor the dramamine pills
you drawled on and on
and the smoke rose to the top
smoke from the cigarette, steam from the coffee ***
a certain number of hours, you said,
was all you would need
as i held the wooden stick and
missed the ball again.