She leads with sexuality.
She says "**** me," instead of
hello.
If she says, "I love you already."
don't run away, don't
worry, it only means,
"How was your day?"

It means something
normal.

If she doesn't say it, still, she isn't
normal.

Her eyes begin every sentence with,
"Will you love me?
Will you **** me?
Will you promise to never
leave me?"

And when you say, "Bend over,"
It will mean, "Love you, too."

You used to think *** was love, but
now you know, *** isn't love.
*** is medicine for
sick people.

Your body, naked, shaking, is more of
a multivitamin for sociopaths,
than it is your body.

She leads with sexuality, but
how else should it be felt?
And no, your **** is not big enough
to fill the hole
in her heart.

I prefer things this way.

            You- six hours ahead,
                        late night Skype calls,
                        makeshift air mattress bed,
                        videogame ******,
                        dashing looks
                        and a passion to match.

            Me- six hours behind,
                        sleepless nights,
                        early mornings,
                        multivitamin lunches,
                        lovely words
                        and escaping dreams.

            Us- six hours apart,
                        four-thousand plus miles
                        separating our bodies,
                        yet enriching our relationship
                        one new discovery at a time.
                        Fighting for the fleeting
                        moments we can share
                        until the long-term sets in.

Some say we’re bound to fail.
Some say we’re setting ourselves up
for a collectively shattered heart.

I say we’re here to prove them wrong.

The First World War destroyed anything beautiful that existed within the human spirit
You cannot simply walk away from industrial mass slaughter unaltered
You cannot hide it behind decades later mass slaughters of equal importance
You cannot hide behind getting excited for next mass slaughter
WW1 may have been the force that killed anyone’s feelings of honor or bravery in war
And that’s almost as great a tragedy as all the bloodlines severed
War and violence and conflict will always be with us
It is deep within all animal DNA and no matter how many daisies are put into the barrels of rifles you will never escape it
There is a great tragedy to violence but at times there is a beauty and there is a necessity
When the Soviet forces finally breached the walls of the Führerbunker
Don’t you think they were smiling?
Reality is never black and white
It is shades of tragedy, shame, beauty, and glory

It may be seen as “Eurocentric” of me, among other things, to carry WW1 with this weight
It was not a purely European conflict of course, but the main theater was
Besides, I am descended from Europeans, and some nights when all is silent I wonder if I can hear my ancestors weeping
Or are they screaming?
We as a species have allowed our greatest inheritance to be squandered
Pure wild nature
We have sold it for same Starbucks coffee shop in every college town, Kroger, and corner of New York City
We sold the forests for New York City
Are some sins unforgivable?
In the place of the old growths we build buildings of subjective beauty
Subjective beauty always bows to objective beauty
Yes, there is objective beauty
Buildings that are built in the Brutalist style are subjectively beautiful
Forests, undeveloped fields of flowers, the rushing flow of a river
THESE ARE THINGS OF OBJECTIVE BEAUTY
To argue otherwise makes you a liar or a coward

Unironic nihilists have none of my respect
They simply do not deserve it
If you want to be taken seriously find something greater than yourself
Something outside yourself
Something that came before you, exists above you, and will be there long after you are not
That’s why I chose God and Nature
Some see these as interchangeable
I do not but I’m not here to split hairs
The problem with modern society is we have become ironic nihilists, which is almost as bad
Everything becomes chalked up to subjectivity
We crack jokes about how it’s all meaningless and eventually down the line we believe it
This is a pathetic cope
The meaning of our lives, like the objectively beauty of nature, has been bought or stolen
You were not born to consume product
You were not born to work and make things of cheap plastic
You were not born to enjoy next superhero movie, twice a year, every year, until you die
To our ancestors our lives now must seem like decades long suicide pacts
I want out of this state of unliving
We were born to be physically strong
We were born to create things of beauty
We were born to meet hardships, embrace conflict, overcome them, conquer them become something superior to what you once were
YOU WERE BORN TO BE ALIVE
CREATE THE MEANING IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU HAVE TO
Just please
Don’t be a nihilist

I try to take my multivitamin and multi mineral vitamin every single morning
Maybe a fish oil pill or two throughout the day
I have become consumed with the idea of getting more sun on my skin
I have been consumed with the idea of improving my gut bacteria
I want to talk about these things without sounding like Patrick Bateman
To improve your inner flora it is recommended you replace processed and fried foods with sauerkraut, kimchi, yogurt, kefir, or something along those lines
I know sunshine and sauerkraut aren’t going to fix your depression or rid you of your years of trauma
But there’s no shame in trying
On Friday I bought a full 16oz jar of kimchi and proceeded to eat the entire thing in less than 24 hours
I will never apologize
I will never feel shame

I scream all of these things into a bathroom mirror when I am alone
I wrote this poem for myself
I wrote it for all of you
I want out of this soul crushing alienating techno industrial hellscape
I want the nightmare to end but I’m in too deep
If I melt down my cell phone, crash my car into an empty Wendy’s, and make it my moral and ethical duty to take down the power grid, I may get expelled from grad school
I might get arrested
I might just be forgotten
So for sake of legality I cannot endorse looking up how a cheap bandsaw can cut down a cell tower
I do no endorse bringing the technological nightmare to its knees for the good of all living things
I do not endorse arson, even when no one gets hurt
It’s a mean world out there
I only endorse breaking free
Any way you can

My darkness
Is unbearable
I lay underneath the covers
Curled up and blinking

Why
Do I feel so wretched?
Always?
If I had the strength I would change this terrycloth robe
Wash it maybe
Look out the window and not have it burn my eyes

Instead I lay here
I push the blankets away and
Look up at the pimpled paint job on the ceiling
The crackalure of antique white
I loathe that color
It pierces my soul with
Bland forbearance

What am I to do?
Nothing.
Survive.
Take a pill. Talk about it.

The phone rings as it does
My maid enters
There’s someone on the line
There’s a problem
It’s always the same

A rather large stegosaurus ravaging
the South Seas
A rich magnate with bombs and a timer
Laocoön’s prophecy coming true
It’s just too much

She holds the phone extended
with her hand on her hip
waiting impatiently
I know that she has work to do
and that I am no help, stalling
There are dishes and laundry
She wants to wash these sheets
I crawl out and put on my tights
My belt
My cape

She hands me
my multivitamin and my smoothie
as I leave
but I’ll be back
and will slip like a python
into the new ironed sheets
before the evening darkness
Which awaits patiently for me
And I will stay there
Until that phone rings again

she’s a flower, tall beaming and bold ready to take on the winter and summer as easily as she flicks her wrists to get ready to write that next stanza, a force to be reckoned with, kaleidoscope of emotions delving into personality traits you didn’t know existed but wish you had so you could understand that flick of the wrist that much better, secrets screaming through quiet whispers down the channels of her ears when she swallows truth like a multivitamin, filling her body up with things like horoscopes and music and the constant thought of an inevitable end

you like her sort of mystery, like her dark eyes because they remind you of the peaceful nights you had back home, her dark hair because it reminds you of the way nature somehow decided to bless her with those Balkan genes once again, hollowed out vegetables becoming instruments and cold soups becoming delicacies, you’ve never had it so good

dance to melodies only the winds of the mountains know, sing to songs only the shepherds might hear, grab her by the hips and sing and dance and take that hand of hers and kiss that tired wrist just so she can lift it again and hug you so as if to say thank you, thank you for staying whole up until now, thank you for finding me

Using Your Aura
By
Carson OTP Alexander
Descended from D Heavens,
Evokes a Natural Smile,
Is A type of Vibez,
That lasts for days n miles,
Is a Natural Authentic Flavor,
Delivering n Reviving Me,
Each Minute 2 Hour,
Is Your Aura!
Sweet not Sour,
Full of Mental n Physical color,
A Heavenly Sent Power,
Multivitamin Replenisher
Which Showers n
Revives Me,
Each Minute 2 Hour,
Is Your Aura!