I gulp down an Energy-Booster-X,
blue and sour.
Siri turns on Radiohead,
15 Step.

I step up to the pyramid of treadmills,
bouncing and salty.
Surrounded by Greek gods,
Beta, Alpha Gam, Pike.

I motivate myself by my surroundings,
bulging and ****.
Cardio first and then core,
2 miles, 200 crunches.

I connect my sweat in a line down my shirt,
blotchy and stagnant.
Everyone stretches in the end,
Thighs, biceps, pecs aflame.

I will not stop until I am perfection,
beautiful and sculpted.
Alarm set again,
For 6:30am, 7:30pm

Trying to clear my mind*
Put on a show for the adults
Its your uncle's celebratory bar tending fund raiser


First, I look up to find the vultures who stole you,

My little goose
So bright
Swooped up by claws
Bound for America

They keep you locked in a cage
Watching your every move
Depriving you
Threatening you

My goose, my first friend,
Once happy near the crab apple tree
Now broken and abused in solitary
I am the only one who knows


Second, I shake hands with the drunken politician spewing words at me:  

"Play a lot of golf because when you are a business man you make a lot of money, that's the name of the game"

I am sure he said the same thing to his daughter
Who was also stolen from her country

Her slanted eyes always painted half silver, half black
Knowing people will remember her

Rewards to her
Floating through crowds at concerts
Traveling the world

I'd like to strangle men like him
I'd rather die than get a job, be a business man and make money


Third, I see the familiar face of a man who I've known most of my life

The space between his nose and mouth reminds me of your's
I've always looked up to him
Mainly because he is a runner
He fixes my cars and probably plays guitars

"Did you hear about Maxx's dad?"
Poor Maxx, broken minded
Head not ******* on right
Throwing fits
Playing with gems in stalls
Never polite
No amount of crystal rock will replace his loving father

Jax,Lily,Flawless,Marta,Dr.Shweta,Shiv,Neeraj,Dg.
Emeka,Miss,Jule­s,Bridgett,Salim, Joceyn,memoona.
Sampreeta,daud,Stephanie,Grace,No name,Eloisa.
Hijenduanao,Kauthar,Damien,Joye,Marta,Narendra.
Jole­ne, Perry, Freebird,Surbhi,Godawan,Ikimi,tm,
Xaela,try,S Nirmal,Astrea,Erin,Mindless,Lace,HB.
AP,Timur,Kasidee,Caterra,the­ untold,Melancholy.
Melanie,mckenzie, clark,beebz,sherri,bryan,bakunawa.
khaliyah,brianna,Ay2brutus,Ang­el-like,Maxx,Lure ***.
Mike, me zeal, Kim,Kim,Maeiby,Shanath,Marshall,xallan.
Weeping Willow,Mike Hauser,Serena,AnnMarie,DavidLewis.
JenniferJohnson, itgonnamakesense,Mike Essiq,Nancy.
Olivia,Paul,Mark,Phil,PoetressBhumi and Wilyam Pax.
Here some more love you all, I pray that you are blessed.

i stay up at night
wondering what its like
to fall asleep soundly
and with ease.
to not be kept up
by the daily regrets,
by the incessant questions,
by the ongoing chatter
that is turned on loud
in my head.
there is ruckus,
there is commotion,
there is bedlam
and even a rebellion.
riot, turbulence, uproar, uprising etc.
but cant you see
that all of this is going on in
the battle grounds of my mind.
and all at the late hours of the night.
sleep is not an option,
sleep is never an option.
not for an insomniac like me.
sleep with an insomniac,
see how it feels to watch them
suffer nights on end.
unable to escape the daytime demons,
because they are releasing
the night time one's as well.
my name is maxx
and i am an insomniac.

God has the weekends free,
the angels go shopping
in TK Maxx,
the cherubs relax and drink
lavender tea.

Weekends are free,
no sinners to see or
confessions to hear and
no tea for Jesus he prefers
to drink beer.

Monday to Friday it's
saving the lost ones and
back to the grind, but
angels don't mind when they're
dressed in the best that their
allowances can buy,
it's like fly now and buy later
the weekend can cater
to all.

This grief, it won’t leave, it chases me, grabs my ankles,
pulls me to my knees, stalks me during the day,
crawls into bed with me at night,
nudges me if I dare to doze off
quickly reminds me,
I’m alone.

And I reflect on the bazillions of dead humans since the beginning of time, the ancient dead, the war dead, the innocent dead, the dead killed for land, executed on gallows, exterminated in gas chambers, extinguished in death camps, do they await my grief, hide in my bones, live in my heart expectant my dormant grief will find its way to the surface, to respect the lives they once lived?

But I’m a twenty-first century dweller with my postmodern nonchalance intact, moving, using up, basking in the labors of the dead, a sleepwalker on stolen time, gravely in need of self-compassion, dodging the inborn sorrow cut into my heart, while the dead are forgone, they are not forgotten, they form a double square knot no one can help to untie, as their own knots tighten in witness of mine.

Now widowed, my despair dodger foundation shaken, a real life reality lands, no longer a *****, pills popping, *** smoking, TJ Maxx consumer, game plan to avoid sorrow like a plague, the cultural norm, “let the dead bury the dead,”  no, it’s not happening, why, because my grief never died, sure, it was buried, but it was buried alive, and now the chickens have come home to roost.

21
beat up old truck
long hair
****** hair
rugged skin
every bit of muscle finished growing and boney hands
sixty dollar phone
dead-end job
**** and acid
17
skinny legs and dusty knees
FRIENDS hoodie from TJ Maxx
cheap shoes
little sixty dollar phone
working part time

(defun maxx (lst)
  (if (null lst)
      "jimmy couger _ferocious _EATEROFF ICECREAMS"
      (let ((current-max (nth 0 lst)))