I use to hope that you'd keep that
photo of me tacked by your bedside
but you took it down, (vengefully)
I know this because you tore out the portraits
of me from your sketchbook the first time around

so I hope you find bobby pins still within your clothes
catch whiffs of my old perfume on the streets and feel your
spine cinch softly, I hope a single earring rolls forward in the
desk drawer, but I really cannot hope these things anymore.

so i hope the earring stays lodged in the crack, that all stray bobby
pins find their way back and that my perfume is never worn, never worn
never worn. I hope that my perfume is never worn
around
you.

People judge him without a second glance, he’s just the boy with anger management.
Anger is not something to neglect, but his is hardly kept.
Getting him to calm down is impossible you’re too late, he’s controlled by hate.
He’s sick of this anger inside of him trying to get out so violently.
The loathing is breaking him body and soul, it may be too late for damage control.
He tries to be different but he really knows no other way, his dad was as violent as he.
He learned from a young age how to be mean, how to manipulate the scene.
He’s not evil at heart he wants to change, just not sure how to start.
Show him he’s not the monster his father was, that he’s destined for great things and he has the ability to love.
When he sees the possibilities, and his emotions he learns to express.
He will no longer be the victim of anger management.

Pretty soon I'm gonna wake up
in a ******* Summer heat wave,
sweating bullets down the barrel
of the **** I still can't handle.
                       (Like relation-
                       -ships or regret
                      managment or
                   barely making rent!)
I don't feel any different--
still a stupid, clumsy kid
swing-and-missing, striking out
and ******* breathing out my mouth
as I turn
           and I slouch
and shuffle back to the dugout.

I'M ON A RAFT ON LAKE DeSMET
IT'S GOT A FISH HOOK TEAR IN IT
I'M SINKING FAST
SO WHERE'S MY DAD!?
I ONLY SORTA-KINDA SWIM!
Only now the raft's a loan
for lessons learned that just won't float
and the lake's this ******* town,
my stupid habits and the time
I always waste on whiny frowns,
and hanging hats
               on embarrassing ****!

I'm 29 and I'm thinking
     that Catch-Up's just a game I'm not winning.
Under a pile of mail with a cheap grin,
cringe away and close the blinds
and I'm calling in sick--
yeah I'll call in again
if it'll spare me from the glaring truth.

I'm 29 for a week more.
     For fifty-two I swore not to keep score
with the scars from skinned up knees or my credit.
Lock the door and draw the blinds
and I'll call it a win--
yeah I'll call it a win
if it'll spare me from the glaring truth
                          *of a decade
                   containing my biggest loss.

This body is to narrow to start the concrete picturesque poetry

As a marvelous bright sparkling spring into the pitch black marvel stone
My poems are shallow water running out of time climbing backwards

Shanti dances, Shakti watches, I ride the glossy magenta mountain byke Elementally through the potentially ***** city, gulping two little
              flying                            spoons          ­            wwhhpp          mhm                                  ­    
                       of
Brilliant        IO Ag
                   Helth guarantieed on the nulth spelling positive not
Obtrusive politely declined           skipped          suggestive
Visually objective little pencil box down bellow
                                             friend    _ this is blank !

Absolutely! Absoulutely! A ****** stream of no perservatives no ***

Objecting flowery flunder opiates                           Words grow from
Barriers between insufficient gestures                  from human
Jazzy left ear leaving laments of sounds incapability to stay
Endlessly entwined and glued together as your soul loves
Tender tactile cats touch on your desperate desert sju++
                  Ave Gratias Plena Ava Gardner Avon Avion
  My throat is not of a managment made suits suiting suitcases
I'm Tired Of Fraternities Or True Females  Always  Ends  Well

i woke up today and couldn't fathom current
affairs in any other way...
             the rebirth of israel...
                      hawk pantos that's america (*** note,
hannibal would apply the death penalty
if i was playing the trombone, or something
akin to it... tearing my hearing to shreds and
subsequently infuriating me)...
            but my tongue is a very debasing
instrument to come to grips with...
                      it's the internet and the narrative
in the west...
                        i was just listening to a nationalist
greg johnson... and let's face it:
how did nationalism become so reasonable?
        or what do you say to nationalists who
have to face up to darwinistic populists that are
secretly communist?
                        i find darwinism not so much a case
against god, but against the left...
                    maybe i'm seeing double or something...
anyway... if i was writing this in central europe ("east"
europe... left right of centre argument?
  copernicus didn't really improve our map-reading
skills... more people find the edge of a cliff
or a sea than... the ******* x: that marks the spot)...
           so we're supposed to be objective,
        and by object i mean an ethnic context:
     which bites back at what those who argue against
subjectivity have: how am i to suddenly turn into shadow
of some obscene universalism?
       well, judging by the content i'm being "prescribed"
(just listening to), and given darwinism, when doesn't
brutality (at least intellectual) come into the fore?
           arguments in a graveyard phase?
                                     epitaph managment?
but since i'm writing this in england, and seeing what's
unfolding, or what's already too late to comment on
as it already has...
    politico-ethnicity speaking? as an anglo-slav?
        there is a dual deterrent in "certain" parts of central
europe... some say the weather, some say:
  the people who inherited the remnants of national
socialism's nadir... we know national socialism's
zenith was the autobahn... so if the british proclaim
pride at the railway network, the germans can't
proclaim a pride in the autobahn network?
                     well... if you've ever been in the central
of warsaw during the winter, you know climate is a natural
deterrant to what the problems in western europe
are spoken about...
                        giving the current climate of politics,
i can't say that sites such as auschwitz are also deterrents...
    i'm guessing people over there (as earth to earthenware
be spoken) - perhaps half-jokingly:
                                        you want us to fire up
the furnaces? no, but the Ełk example...
                         do i really have to state that darwinism is
an ideology in direct confrontation with marxism?
                 i hear things like cultural marxism...
        but what the west has started to export is
                                                 cultural darwinism...
it's a seesaw effect, a stick has two ends...
                                           i don't even know how to
begin entertaining the effects of cultural darwinism,
unless of course there's overt psychologism
                              and too many explanations and
very little action: it's like this ******, completely ******
off his face on l.s.d. looking at a painting saying:
    oh, isn't that nice?
                                    cultural darwinism is real,
and it lies opposite cultural marxism; i really don't know
how it happened, by darwinism is political these days
(as it always was, with the monkey trial...
  but then that was in the realm of law, rather than politico
blah blah)... in that sense it has become almost ineffective
in convincing people anew, afresh, precisely because
it has turned from a very beautiful theory,
                     into the harsh reality of indoctrination;
i really hid that part where i mentioned auschwitz as
a deterrent to the migrant problem, didn't i?
                  i'll write a bit more and it will truly be well
hidden... o fortuna... und die shattenvolk:
                      it's not even a belief, you just read western
media, and it's as if poland was one defended by
western europe, by not receiving pointless coverage;
       within reasonable constraints, this new alliance
within the european union?
                           i'm thinking whether it's real or not;
never mind... i'm still to depict su doku tactics
            and actually finish a puzzle that i ensured
could be turned into ideograms... which by japanese
standards of complexity, would be treated
   as if neanderthal... all we have in terms of complexity
is volume... since almost anyone can and anyone
has learned english... it's naked... ****-naked adam,
the oddball of all other european languages...
             primarily due to a lack of unitary distinctions...
and this point has to be repeated repeated re-.