"juul" poems
they emerge from the wooded neighborhood ridge and fringe at dusk
into breadth of lawn
& limb.
witchy chicks
casting banter n bitchcraft.
teenage dead end dreamers tipped in black magick lip gloss
& glitter, their
genderfluid familiars &/or wayward boyfriends apparate
in the street pink cloud spinning wheel,
& hawking bile.
****** stella smile.
swallow a hex, send a snap, tongue along his neck
promising to fold bodies before sunrise.
the effervescent gasp
of post-ritual clarity.
in the house,
is a kid.
a gig.
the devil with a younger grip.
& the kid thrills on a bit of the ol’
u l t r a v i o l e n c e.
****** videogames, ****** anime, ****** mayhem n melodic music.
he is a conduit of dark energy.
a pure blooded offering of the stone age/video age,
mind in a kind of kaleidoscopic way.
he is me.
bred on televised bucket slime ceremonials.
she checks her purse.
drugs & snacks & juul & a pretty dead bird.
a daughter of delphi watching your kid.
tending to him.
trending him.
popcorn smelling him, the texas chainsaw massacre on vhs just before bed.
palace of teeth n twigs.
just a short walk to the edge and then its bath time.
the demon version is grisly and cruel.
the angel version is starry-eyed and adventurous.
to conjure some
thing,
at the cliff jumping.
it was fun.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
o, rèmy martin dreamer,
with cheap hen on your breath.
the good brown is not the backwoods
or juul pods in virgina tobacco,
&
maybe the good brown manifests in my hair,
before the ammonia, touching my scalp
and turning it as red as my tongue after
a strawberry lollipop. everything
tastes like you.
&
i wish i could touch you again,
just hold your hand, brush your
elbow, play with your hair.
but i also wish i could drive a thousand
machetes into your flesh, while screaming
&
writhing with trash-sickened fervor .
you are vomit-inducing. you smell
like a thousand patchouli-burning
stoners, but you feel like velvet
and taste like sugar-sweat.
you might be popping a xan right now,
knee-deep in beautiful girls.
and i'm still dope-sick.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
the girls huddle,
wallflower themselves
away from the bell-toll
of mean-girl chatter
gucci gang comes on,
& a few blood-boys
come out with juul-destoryed lungs
and sip their smuggled *** punch
someone shouts 'begone, thot'
& instead, i vanish,
into summer-stretched air.
you're only young once, &
then there's the in-between
of reunion. the late night fiends stay
until the sun peaks
through the cracks in the
façade of adulthood.
finally, somewhere near
the end of the night,
the intercom comes on.
the superintendent asks us to leave,
the bathroom is filled with brûléed vapor
& the ground has become as much of an ashtray
as the dirtied mouthes of those still dancing,
drunk enough to numb the memories of
the worst three years
of our collective life.
when the chorus of
**** that, **** you
fades out,
it's because the system is
crackling again
& everyone's head is turning to the soft voice asking;
where are you now?
what have you done?
are you perfect yet?
Jul 5, 2018
Jul 5, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC
Chaos brews within me and you
We select vices and sometimes we don't choose
We find individual ways to play by Society's rules
Whether it's a joint, a shot or a juul
Whether it's serial loving, fear of trusting or mindless thrusting
We attack and belittle to increase our ego
I jump into ***** waters hoping to be the hero
But if you can't save yourself then who can you save
Constantly giving away the colours you should use to paint
The sky, the stars and the lines that drive us apart
The ingrained hatred we spew without ever thinking it through
Instead of breaking each other's hearts and playing like dolls
We could build up protection and evolve
Jun 23, 2020
Jun 23, 2020 at 8:56 PM UTC
Two bros converged into a fellowhood
And stoked to share their Fight Club quotes
And be two broskis, juiced they stood,
And shotgunned PBRs, long as they could,
till they were wrecked in a sweet-ass boat
Then proclaimed the bros, into the air,
“Turn on the flatscreen, let’s watch the game”,
it was Saturday so the day was theirs;
and as they sat in their folding chairs,
the smell of axe the air became
And clad in their Costas they loudly played
a song no bro’s cracked iPhone lacks.
Oh, they know their bops like they know their whey!
They smelled their teen spirits and exhaled away,
JUUL clouds of fruit flavors with swag densely packed.
There is no replacing these two guys
and their dudely jockish fashion sense.
Two bros converged as two would, and aye-
They forged the path bros travel by,
a path of bliss and ignorance.
Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 12:09 PM UTC
Persistence
sometimes i feel like falling down
but only. cause standing up is boring
why am i storming though a season where leaves fall
cause that's norming
bonds break but tears freeze and that's how crystals keep forming
i should test myself
see what i can find
in the life of my time
or at least what i've been prescribed
to put it honestly to wish is to dream
and that is to put it modestly
but to live is to rip your skin from your body
because comfort is a sad commodity
a place holder for
what you're meant to be
but that's placing your bets on destiny
and that's still a dangerous place to me
reach for the stars or
at least set your eyes on a planet that's not ours
maybe mars
that was predictable but it rhymed so
sorry if i'm presenting my ideas as cliche
or despicable
at least i can decipher what i know is unforgivable
a prison is a person who's microsoft-able
but that's just my angst creating a villain
vaporizing vixens are vain to the core
but the haze of pain is still in
only cause that's what they tell me when i want more
more than a ******* juul i'm
too cool to care about my health
cause the moment is now right, until i have to worry about wealth
for my family or my chemical dependence it makes me wince i mean i just want health insurance sorry i'm not used to the governments idea of
assurance
but jesus christ
one nation under god
kids get shot for
mowing the ******* lawn
what kind of world are we living in
**** is fueling the patriarchy for the worser
if a fertilized egg is a candidate for ******
every single guy walks a around wearing ******* or kappa
donald trump doesn’t drink
pops percocets and ******
i'm swimming and drowning and i need assistance
but it begs the question of thoughts that fester in an enemy
i'm sorry, i know that's not fitting my opinion of the human existence
but why am i creating an enemy when all my life has promised me is the empty shell of persistence
Jan 15, 2019
Jan 15, 2019 at 5:02 AM UTC
My thoughts will maim you like Kano
Thinking of the pain-o makes you start drinking the draino
Count your days bro
Time for a puzzle for your brain-o
What likes kit and kaboodle but not the rain-o
I’d tell you but you wouldn’t get it
Like tots listening to Coltrane-o or Jimmy Hendrix
I’ve gots one more question, use your noodle
Pay attention! Better stop picking at your cuticles
Some kids only get to draw yankee doodles
They tag along at home while they eating ramen noodles
Other kids go to games with the family poodle
In the booth they get to sing a song, the Yankee Doodle
How much wealth do you think is in the bottom half?
Only 1 percent belongs to most, the riff raff
Inscribe that graph on my epitaph
On my deathbed, I just want to hear my children laugh
Many fellas feign money through poverty
The reality of my situation doesn’t really bother me
I’m full of funny sayings like Plato and Socrates
Such catchphrases as hey baby **** on these!
I’m just kidding I would never-ever do that
I have a reputation as a forever-ever cool cat
Whose that? Is he a juul rat? How many tats?
Henry, no, and none. Now say where’s your daughter at?
The poor burn wealth about as much as anyone
Though some can’t easily earn health for they many sons
She turn tricks for her son’s Trix and lego bricks
But in the end we all churn the same River Styx
How much wealth do you think is in the bottom half?
Only 1 percent belongs to most, the riff raff
Inscribe that graph on my epitaph
On my deathbed, I just want to hear my children laugh
Rich and poor both drinking coca-cola
Stress and storm both scary like paranoia
I’m thinking there’s a little societal unrest
The greatest generation watched King Kong beat on his chest
I want to scream just like Ann Darrow
Yelp for help but the people’s views too narrow
The news only shows what the shiny shoes say to
Not much we can do, so we wait till they get their due
Nothings gonna happen if we don’t make it
So write in, call in, tweet in and even pray it
They won’t admit it if we can’t force them to say it
Our last hope’s revolution, they’re not outdated
How much wealth do you think is in the bottom half?
Only 1 percent belongs to most, the riff raff
Inscribe that graph on my epitaph
On my deathbed, I just want to hear my children laugh
Apr 2, 2020
Apr 2, 2020 at 2:40 AM UTC
i'm 22 and it's been about a week since my last cig
(now i have a juul, the most responsible way to manage my buzz i guess)
i am too busy to write, read, call my mom sometimes, i can't go home to visit because i've run out of time
i'm not sure when i'll make it to the grocery store, or
when i'll sleep because i'm busy trying to fit in time to rest.
i hope it's worth it
but i think i convince myself that most things are
Sep 16, 2018
Sep 16, 2018 at 1:10 AM UTC
I am sorry for all the mistakes
Should’ve done all it takes
To stay with you, now I’m sipping on this Hennessy
The addictions have given me a new identity
Should’ve stopped ******* with the drugs
But it was difficult when all your friends are plugs
You were always telling me to get away from them
Remember trading a Peace-Tea for **** in chem
Always concerned why my eyes were red
Told you I was just up all night because I was in my head
I was telling the truth, but I was also high
If I quit the drugs, you would’ve been with me through July
We always argued and made up every two months
Only had one good month, we agreed on one thing for once
It was when we thought we needed space
Switched from your hugs to the addictions warm embrace
I made a mistake of doing drugs in the first place
Thought the drugs could take loves spot, they couldn’t replace
Instead, they brought in more and more addictions
I think I might need some help to stay sober, it’s just a prediction
Thinking I probably should’ve healed before I told you
That I liked you thinking I could start new
A past girl really ****** me up, ****** up my head
I should’ve stayed with my friends that night instead
She treated me like garbage and started my addictions
Tried not to put the juul up to my mouth, tried restrictions
She ****** me up before I met you, she was a mistake
Left my heart and mind in pain, they ache
Still have that lover boy in me, but now it’s overwhelmed
We don’t trust anybody when they show us affection, feels weird when being held
I was and still am an anxious soul that’ll get worried over anything
Tired of anxiety telling me what to do, tired of it ruining everything
Start to wonder what I do wrong in relationships, telling me it’s all my fault
Why can’t my mind shut the **** up, it’s abusing me and that’s assault
I get too attached to people and that’s what gets me hurt in the end
After our feelings are done, I got to act like I’m okay, I have to pretend
I am sorry for all the mistakes
Should’ve done all it takes
To stay with you, now I’m sipping on this Hennessy
The addictions have given me a new identity
Jan 9, 2025
Jan 9, 2025 at 1:41 PM UTC
Strange trip through time as the music I hear comes from when I was in highschool.
Currently I am 31, Korn are now an old band, smoking has been replaced by the juul and I find myself thinking when did I no longer have my finger on the pulse of society?
Do teenagers know that their culture is created by 30 and 40 year olds who know them so well that they can target their individuality and make a profit out of them?
Did I?
I was rocking out to The Cure and The *** Pistols in highschool while everyone around me was listening to the black eyed peas and slipknot and somehow I still see the irony of it all.
How detached am I?
Is youth the key to being in touch with whats happening unless you find yourself as an influencer?
Another social term that only existed in fashion magazines when I was in highschool now we focus on Instagrams and snapchats to tell us what's what and what fashion to follow.
I'm trending on my younger self and what we call **** riding or *** kissing is now called stanning... Am I losing touch?
is this what age does or does society simply become more marketable and I fall for less the older I get?
At what point do I walk away and become old and just simply don't get it?
Age sneaks up on us and soon we forget and lose track of what's happening and soon we have a group of highschool wannabe punk *** kids laughing at us as we stand in line at the mall, wired, tired and exhausted from work but we've only got a few hours to get this last minute gift for our friend or for a babyshower and we make under what we deserve because we bust our *** and yet the house payment racks up and our manager who is younger than us by a year somehow thinks they're better than us, so we have to see these hoodie wearing smirking *** teenage brats mock us, meanwhile we can outdrink, outparty, outfuck and out run them because no matter how hard they think they are, we've got the experience to support us.
Age sneaks up and soon those punk *** whiny instastars become 30 year olds who say the same **** we do because when we're young everyone lives forever and hindsight is 3030 or 4040 but this is part bitter, part better, its part knowledge and part wisdom, it's part jaded and part self aware.
At the end of the day it's all just signs of age.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 3:26 AM UTC
No stress forget those fools because we got our cigarettes kokos and juuls
The nicotine makes my brain less mean
Frantically searching for my Juul while you call me a fiend
Got your koko in your hand because your an organized man
**** it lets get me some smokes
They taste so good but they make me choke
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 8:49 PM UTC
everytime i hit this juul
it burns the back of my throat
the same sensation i feel
when i'm talking to you
Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 6:51 AM UTC