strawberry dress and clear lip gloss
laying your head on a soft bed of moss
the way you run off
reminds me of ballet
and your smile in the sun
just makes my day

but you're like a nosebleed
you really taste so sweet
i wanna take care of you
but you're no good for me
i've never had a nosebleed
i wish someone would hold me
and sing me soft songs
in their arms as i fall asleep

your scraped knees are so cute
i wanna say that i love you
but by now it's too late
you've got a boyfriend anyways

i spend all my money
on a tissue box
and waste all my time on
the show you watch
hoping that one day soon
i'll get to be the one with you

but you're like a nosebleed
you taste so ******* sweet
but you come with a punch to the face
and you make me wanna leave this place

you're like pulling teeth
it's what i need
but i ******* hate you
you're like a nosebleed
know what i mean
you taste so sweet
but it's painful
and just like me
you want everything to be perfect but you're so unstable
begging to be taken on a table
you're a self inflicted injury
and i've been clean for several weeks

I know that there is a table
in a Catholic high school in my local town
with an etch of the letter "G"
next to boredom-inspired vandal,
jagged lines, circles,
perhaps a few ******* shapes
as silly high school boys
are prone to draw.

An Advanced Maths textbook sits on a shelf
with a little doodle
of a peace sign next to an emo smiley
from a time where I was caught
between two phases,
tight black jeans and a flowing turquoise shirt.

Tobacco stains smeared
over the wood of a sealed off door
just outside my bedroom,
evidence of the first time
I tried a cigarette, seven years old,
and then panicked and tried to
flush it down the toilet,
only to have to fish it out and stuff it
in a little crevice, to be hidden and
remain there for seven years.

We leave all these little marks
and stains
in places we've been.
Spilled food, spilled ink, spilled drink,
tobacco stains and pools of blood.
"The marks humans leave are
too often scars."

I have scars.
Left forearm. Right calf. Right wrist bone. Both kneecaps.

A scar across my ribs and chest I was
so desperate to be rid of,
I bathed myself in oils and it was
the first scab I
never picked at; but a couple of weeks ago
I dreamt it was there again, fresh.
It tore open in front of everyone, bled out,
and I woke up gasping, drowning in my fear,
agonised, clutching at a wound that'd long since faded
convinced I could feel it splitting me apart again.

I have evidence all over my body
and more buried deep within the recesses of my mind,
scars so jagged they put knives to shame,
shining, pale, like diamonds in moonlight
not half as precious
but still invaluable.
Evidence of the marks humans leave behind.

I'm not innocent.
I don't pretend like I am.
I know there is a man out there
who gained another scar to add to his collection
when he was fourteen years old.
I know my hands carved it into his skin.
I know I used to use my fists
when others used their words to hurt me.

When I die, I know that I will leave
pieces of myself
everywhere
I've ever been. Whether people know it
or not, whether they
remember me
or not. There are ink stains
and coffee spills. My blood
is still on the floor of his house.
The high school cafeteria
has a circle of red
from a nosebleed I didn't realise I was having.
There are parks wearing my graffiti
and children donning my old clothes, and people overseas
still alive because of me

(or that's what they'll tell me, but
all I did was talk.
Give yourself the credit you guys deserve,
you're the ones who chose to listen.
You're the ones who had the strength to
pick your head up and carry on)

There are exes who still think of me
and friends who will one day
come across some article of clothing
or a piece of technology
I left behind after a sleepover.
Teachers who will remember
that smart, sarcastic student
who had panic attacks in their classrooms
and drank coffee in the mentoring hub with Mrs. Hume
whilst buttering bagels and functioning on no sleep.

Maybe our place in the universe is
insignificant. Or maybe it's the
most significant thing
of all.
Maybe the Buddhists are right.
Maybe we are the universe, together
as one. I sure think it makes sense.

Streams of consciousness
and spirits that need healing.
We work the sun
without even realising we're doing it.
We destroy it, too,
which is perhaps why we
are so self destructive in turn.

Maybe we're
smaller than specs of dust
but that's okay.
You don't have anything
without the particles required
to make things up.
Everything is a collection of atoms:
the tiniest things of all
yet they're the centre of everything,
the beginning of everything.

So when the end comes and
we burst back into the sky,
stardust and souls and
blinking little lights,
we'll have left our marks on the earth
regardless of who remembers
and we'll still be there, twinkling,
a collection of atoms that came from a supernova
essential to the makeup of galaxies
and life itself.
What could be more beautiful than that?

i have a nosebleed
and i breathe steam
seamlessly from this black hole,
******* life-air away
from those who actually
deserve
to live.

why this blood-red mud
frightens my friends
i'll never know-
it's me! so real!
me, the drinkable.
me, so easily consumable.
me, in a manipulative form.

my clay brain, melted,
sliding through my nose,
it brings the *****
little piece
of **** that i am
out into the light

where everyone can see it.

Awoken from a 4 1/2 month dream
Find myself hanging by my feet
30,000 above and swinging wildly
Nose bleeding like waterfalls
Eyes suffering drought in Arizona
                           The dream was about you
                           Unsure if it was reality
                           It sure wasn't fake though
A "steal" heart shall sit in my chest
because you stole the one that beats
Swing, Bleed, Suffer some more
Fake airplane air makes me wonder
Where I am whenever I awoke
Captain, "To the right lies Kansas City"
I knew those lights in the distance
They twinkled like your ***** eyes.

You leave me spluttering,
dizzy, disorientated.
You came out of nowhere,
you took me by surprise.
I tried to stop you,
tried to smother you,
tried to cover you up,
but I couldn't breathe,
I couldn't speak, couldn't scream for help.
I was choking.
you made one thought consume my body;
'please just... stop.'
And eventually you did,
and I never want to see you again -
it's bad enough that I still have your mess to clean up.
I hate you,
I hate you like a nosebleed.

I thought I heard
               Canadian slang
from the opposite bed-side
Like it's 2009, rub some lines off my face.
Inner space bleeding outward,
deep red, a nosebleed,
angled points on white of The Maple Jack.
               A Nip at the Sal's on Esplanade-Riel.

Grab your runners and toque,
               it's warm, but not forever
and these legs are sore. Polar bears
on the sweater you wore in the Fall--
Churchill, Manitoba, the streets are full of teeth and claws.
Awoke and wanted warmth lacking.
I thought I heard Canadian slang.

I thought I heard "it'll be okay"
from the voices of feathers fletching arrows falling.
     they whisper and screams sink deep behind
                                     eyelids
                                     closing.
A sentence unfinished,
                sinking in flesh
                              in time
                sinking
                              in snow and ice
                sinking
                              in water in Summer
                sinking
                              in memory.

I thought I heard
               plans being made
and shy laughter.
I heard it 5 times. Didn't I?
Days fade, ears dull*
Walking on streets, in the cold
towards her home
I thought I heard laughter--
                                   heard something
                        like laughter--
I thought I heard rain, as the Lodgepoles drank water.

I thought I heard laughter.

I thought I heard wax melt.
I thought I smelled fairness.
I thought you wanting more time
to bleed and blur tenses.
I thought I heard rivers rushing and roaring
                                                 their battle cries--
--asserting their presence.
I thought I heard cars pass and sounds of the daytime
                    and late March walk along bridges.

I could swear I heard something
     Like Canadian slang,
                 sweet
                     water
                  light
                      laughter.
Som­ething.

perfumado...
del aroma escapista.
me presentas tu género en la cédula,
los ciclos de tu luna,
los resultados del eco,
la decoración de tu baby shower.

You drove away and I thought my nose would bleed
The lump on my head makes me wobbly
Or whatever they stuck in my drink
The roar of that old red engine ringing in my ears
Go die
The boy who doesn’t know how to be in love
Leave me alone to get drunk
On the tears you leave me to
It always ends in tears
Don’t leave me like this
You always leave me like this
Go die
And leave me to mine
The lump on my cerebral cortex is getting bigger
Swelling by the minute
And I’m drinking water
And trying not to let whatever you stuck in my drink
Get the best of me
But I think I’m leaking
Leaking salt water and your own ****** fluids
Leaking my dwindling supply of iron
I’m bleeding
The lump on my head swelling to golf ball proportions
My heart turned to a solid lump
I wait for you to come back and apologize
But you never do and you never will
So maybe if you woke up the next morning
And I didn’t.
Maybe if you heard the words
“her brain hemorrhaged in her sleep”
Maybe if you had to go on without me
You wouldn’t complain about the way I fall in love
And the way you can’t feel ****
You don’t know ****.

killimportantmodernlikemrwarbombgotdirtylovecaredirtbeautifullife­secondgodreallightknowtimenakedtearjustworlddieheartdeaddevilhuma­noidvladmomentwanteyesmusiclonelyrespectnewssaygoodwordsburnheave­nbighateairdeathwhiteyearsfreecaught machine guess right blood human night lost town bad burning hair born wild black car eat ate likes democracy planet pope newton make hands forever way live look alive thinking end oh work old living sick sun drive song bed tears cold clean police blind fat spit men pop law tells boring moral religion religious child's it'll soul thoughts intelligent tell cause flesh lips feel dying kiss ****** trying self history course justice pure deep **** try leave broken mountain brain owns child dog universe bleeding going lights insane build makes runs imagine stupidity bright stupid rich children quiet worry bite nothingness monster hell image exist crash millions **** holy terror satan hungry thousands ******* behave sentences tv nation ****** christians believers banality quack leprosy psychopath collider bono let's hard-on million turn shot silly face stone away maybe little **** breath taste tongue dance left pieces single charging red impossible fear fears america money wrong truth sea calm ***** fact cut meaning evil flaw hole laugh matter wasted hope talk new think feast stay questions wearing able head true stars swallow clowns queen art hard getting order floor flame missing felt door simple strong laws politicians tongues faith freedom tree flows gold lot space great happy **** streets sad mention poor species fake watching emptiness falling shame drugs lines rivers idiot late rise goodbye waste faces answers committed atmospheric birth games flood biting creature constant organic street witness stinking press large dressed glowing mass floating crimes morals dinner screaming nonsense deadly velvet laughs guts lord cries compare pressure fame superior oil spiders poetry views starving desires avoid genius web coded rights ape principles ideas possibilities priests creeps american sensitive jews humans reset americans **** genetic dna diapers ******* muslims idiots optional companies ******* ******* christening jihad imbeciles reincarnation ***** who's what's teeth's self-righteous inside jeans gone **** hello goes smile seconds walls does minutes fun lies lick wet things score dreams thirst hold cheeks taking pull forgot secret dust soldier skin finger son pocket long star shine moon fast earth day stand year sleep peace house need spend comes mind help lie reading count fall hips close disappeared thing rude rust stir sky power family crave surely grow angels truly helpless smell hand driving nail thought created suppose believe personal tune feelings sharpened building messages paper worship word lunch force souls future kind times trail path days record open means perfect distant thousand youth write attention figured famous dj fly offering promise gently high excited enter ecstasy endless faded laughing dreaming short boy sure rain ice bond lip loves man humanity genocide wars food water families corrupted fool gun sorrow ghost buildings wonder step suffering roam bones stained knows delicate suicide catastrophe lab completely marry kitchen read secrets circle grave hunger waters inner filled suffocated ending veins crying deeper stopped insignificant slip non throat explodes gloom stare burger drown mirror endangered cup ears bear shirt voices sins saviour birds sorrows treat selling young crack necessary ego historic symbols travel volcano game scratch ******* confuse spill scream melts following *** known mama speed dress smelly highway speeding washed coat drop absolute intelligence mountains speech wheels father wants rip stains ground save pale surrounded swimming final miles motion sing confused sons sprayed wall swallowed road poets nightmare ***** brains commit possible language golden key useless bombs sake raw john changed takes animal replied stories content track locked drives pit soaked honest everybody horrible gates hall worked understand control meat miracles sheer fed message goodnight split commitment claim knife fur folk madness monks tricks holes creatures terminal idea cracks books diamonds smashing stripped pleasures flowers utmost openly grim bare monstrous weaker everlasting drank banks weather raven hang birthday scar gravity ******* ******* sunny snake yeah square serve sewer odd stiff stem shiny knocked noses duck troops chinese necks uncle stark dig service faster prince bold public utterly plane layer seriously powers strike heroes seven disaster slice trash eternally lawns sowed wife issues lasting kings crawls event diamond significance swallows prisoners bleeds russian friendship oceans matters piled dish cell ******* dieing trains milky haunted fuel lumps seats owned pollution systems vanity champagne degree pump command daughters fortunately talent carpet foolish leg carrying virgins hosts lump dangerous license cleaning crucial cells wedding musicians greater genitals china responsibility knot jet weapon rottening slaughtered decent stolen goat absolutely tool limit possessions snakes righteous ozone happens illusion bounce shabby producing tumbled equal neurons insect biscuit notion link staircase fulfilled chewing ordered gadgets transporting craves stunned strategy damage fragments borders insurance jerusalem panda lasted cultural sluggish ****** member coins eyebrows contains buddha pointing clever virus overwhelmed acts solve classical fluid media mcdonalds widow cloths russia reported babys collapsing tom homeless nearest calculated humour ravenous boiled depend reject phones earthquakes discuss **** ****** misconception prodigal social jane nasty eats president sipping propaganda super electricity fathom spilled carrots liver bored behaviour fault similar ethics commercials sells boiling mortgage donald tons directly apes gruesome civil french passers theory construct crashes abnormal pleaded hack clan eaters delusions flaunt gonorrhea vegetarian taxes rockets leash ripping rational pirates embarrassing dolphin nationality shipping ****** thanksgiving goods deals hopefully nephew flounder kennel ****** communists erupting haircut gays ku klux chins justin draped cerebral usa ***** puke ***** fraction neutral warren fornication belive batteries stoning chopped buddhism tolerate enlightened antibiotics dependence mae apocalypse irrational vise pets comedians sympathies somalia crises terrorists breakdowns peppermint biological ***** disobedience ****** vandals hippie fakes mac bombing nosebleed mafia infamously lesbians berg stylish pr dubai burgers production cruise commander embryos presidents clones gluttons chock ******* illegitimate iphone philosophical yucatan refuges celine inclusive spam dion sanitary waddling mullahs nationalism karl ***** remix sensationalism psychopaths techno disney www punks bombay pomme rappers stucked elixirs bjork mutilations allright lagerfeld enormously elton rabies damien hirst capitalists ravers idealism salaries allready freddie zeitgeist dictatorships invoice asmile berlusconi scarified subjectivity riped ozzy snobbish bnp mcdonald we're you'll we'll beethoven's god's men's arseholes queen's feet's elizabeth's putin duck's einstein's poppop puppy's pig's buffett warhead self-satisfied post-human poo-poo 15 2000 fannie pictorial laundries ****** mahmoud caliphate woodworks biebers frites wonderfulmeaninglessness mujahedins fwarhols pseudo-subjectivity anti-document exstraordinary ahmadinejad behavelike muthafukas somethingeverybodyreally yourlanguage crucialenemies sayevil alicense yourselfwear thatyoudon'tlike someheavy reallymeancontrol andindulge swastikasneversayaword oneincludingyourself yourselfagunandplaywithknifes eraseany heartace parkistan bashra iq's entertanier 28000000 märsk mc-kinny möller onepays isharshand muthafuckasdrop representingallthat toyesor ifno hintsaboutyour tosmallviolentgroupsin societylet andbeseenamongsymbols ifasked cremaster nothingofthisworks andstrangereligiousbehaviours automaticgunandpoppop getdrunkand oddpoint friendswithodd spreadrumours notunderstand ofviewspicksome intosomeviolence yourselfintooblivionaboutyour surroundyourself behavioursand disrespectfuland dotcom

When the first words out of his mouth was
"Sup *****"
I knew a certain few things

1. He was not getting laid tonight.

2. None of us in this room know why he's the party leader,
All glancing at each other in awe
nodding like a hive mind chanting
yes, this man is in fact an *******,
no, i don't know how he rose to power
yes, he did just call us *****.

3. I could think of a million one liners that would earn me way more respect up front than that.

I don't know what I was expecting
walking into this basement

Maybe some small fame
The same small fame I get from getting on a stage for slam poetry
or being cast in a reality T.v. show
Or singing kareoke at my local bar.

Maybe for the free pizza
We've all been there.

And yes, maybe it was for the revenge.
the campaign slogan you stamped
recruitment posters with.
Join the evil league of evil!
Launch revenge against the modern heroes of today!

But when I sit down in this small fold up metal lawn chair,
in what is presumably his moms basement
Behind a projecter  (also probablly his moms)
Next to captain nose bleed
And princess *******.

I already don't have a whole lot of faith in his agenda

So when his opening line
Was "Sup *****"
Like that is some sort of impressive villanous monolouge peared down into one and a half words.
I lost any ounce of faith I had in this cult.
And decided to Usurp this "Party Leader".

Now you might be asking:
Why?
Why would you want to be the head of the evil league of evil?
Founded in this pre pubescent boys moms basement
Whos only followers so far seem to be captain nosebleed,
and princess *******.

Well
clearly
You don't understand.
Captain nosebleed is already under the thumb of princess *******.
I mean lets be real without princess *******
We're three dudes in a basement
Pretending to be super villans.

And you've been known to be pretty charming.

But in your friends evil lair.
Sorry
Moms basement.

You start to evaluate your situation
Gotta make a descision.

Are you fighting for Revenge,
or the small fame?

I recall, until my head pounds,
by the tides I shall be led,
the landscape of your body
in the ocean of our bed.

Among terraforming bedclothes,
old fires leapt anew,
my scent was freshly salted
by the minerals of you.

Blood catches pace and thunders
this sea is not so kind,
the ancient powers rise to claim
all the helpless they can find.

Headlong unto the harden'd shore
by joyous, raging speed
carried into ecstasy
my nose begins to bleed.

Small roses bloom upon you
as you wipe the scarlet spots.
So I will lie here, shipwrecked,
'til the pounding stops.

I cannot see another spit
of coast or island land
from the vantage point of head tipped back
ceiling sky and pinching hand.

The creaking timbers echo
with the lifting of your chest,
"ssh, don't move, it's stopping"
so I close my eyes, and rest.

Awakened from a slumber
without dreams or care,
I find a lonely rosebud
dried within my hair.

Your eyes contain the oceans,
shifting immortality
your fingers are still bloodstained
salt and blood, that's you and me.

What colour are Mondays?
Red? Well mine are.
The same colour
you’d imagine a headache to be,
tomatoes, morello cherries
or like a nosebleed.

Does that mean Tuesdays are blue?
That mouthwash shade,
brain-freeze after a Slushie.
Wednesdays? Perhaps purpley-pink
as burning potassium,
Parma Violets under your tongue.

Thoughts on Thursdays?  Fake-tanned,
tangerine skin, the ugliest orange
for the ugliest day.
But Fridays are a healthier green,
think telephone-pole celery,
cucumber truncheons and kiwis.

Saturdays then? Funeral black
speckled with brown sugar
though Sundays are white.
Hurts-your-eyes-like-snow white,
almost transparent, for they come
and dash by with no tone in-between.

Driving home from school
I heard a whimper in the backseat
Turning around
I saw her chubby fingers at her nose
Blood dripping on her shirt
"****" I said
Stopped the car and jumped across my seat
Tissue at her button nose
She didn't cry
"You're so brave"
I whispered with a kiss on her cheek
"Red is a pretty color huh?"
I said, trying to cheer her up
"Yeah, like a wose" She squeaked
I smiled
"Or a stwabewy"
"Very good, sweetheart"
I said

Watching life’s play,
From the nosebleed section.
If I die today,
It’s natural selection.

I hear what people say,
But don’t make the connection,
The past fades away,
To a vague recollection.

99 problems,
No retorts or solutions,
Trying to pay my bills,
Without resorting to prostitution.

Losing is a life lesson,
Hard to learn,
It’s a truth I mention,
In no uncertain terms.

They say if you get knocked down,
Get back up,
But sometimes when I’m knocked out,
I’ve had enough.

My drive and ambition,
Is out of gas,
But I’m stuck in my position,
Can’t change the past.

They said, “It’s okay chum,
There’s a future to make.”
But no, it’s okay son,
I choose not to partake.

I’m on the road of life,
Just taking a jog,
But I can’t run right,
Cause I’m an underdog.



I know I’m not perfect,
I’ve made mistakes,
But I really do deserve it,
So give me a break.

Girlfriend told me,
I’d never succeed.
I choked at her,
Cause I forgot to breathe.

I was told to walk,
Off the beaten track,
I talk one step forward,
Then whisper two steps back.

I’ve been made a fool,
I’ve played the clown,
I never broke the rules,
But I still broke down.

When I look in the mirror,
To examine my features,
It brakes when brought nearer,
So I pick up the pieces.

You know I don’t deal,
In self depreciation,
So what you find here,
Is honest estimation.

I’m not clever as Copernicus,
Or strong as King Kong,
Even when you’re learning this,
You knew it all along.

I’m on the road of life,
Drifting through the fog,
But I can’t see tonight,
Cause I’m an underdog.

building up
a big mountain
then tear it down
give it to the clowns

nosebleed
for a feast
endless bottom
as a treat

it’ll likes get up
tear it down
it’ll likes get up
tear it down

trail of tears
chopped off
nail of thoughts
stopped short

ego invoice
taking drugs
fat berg sewer
horrible vanity

*it’ll likes get up
tear it down
it’ll likes get up
tear it down

rotting away, limb by limb
"how come you never talk?"
no one's listening
"but you're liked and loved"
and still I feel so alone
a kingdom to myself
isn't a place to call home
the trees are mad
ripping apart their hair
lifelessly laying, a shortage of air
the birds are glaring ominously
at me, a biased perception or reality?
animals are limping, moaning for love
while cupid's head dangles inside of my tub
I'll show you my hands, indeed they are red
guilty I'm not, only sick in the head

it's not even noon, but
my thoughts are drenched with
***, bound and gagged.
you're dancing around the kitchen, clad
only in a pair of
lace ******* you paid
too much for at Victoria's
Secret liaisons by the
seaside, sand sieving through your hair:
all forms of metal-backed currency taste
like ***** on your fingertips stuffed
roughly in my mouth,
call me a ****
pretty please?
promethazine slathered over
watermelon sherbert and
soaked in Sprite; put a lid on it and
shake vigorously until well mixed.
Xanax exacerbated migraines mean
naptime for me, and I forgot to tell you
the Gatorade is spiked with *****
(or maybe tequila; I've well and truly
forgotten) and all of this
is just another means of
replacing you.
you're wrapped in an
ecru trench coat,
cinched at the waist over
concealed weaponry:
unlicensed pistol and wet coral *****
constrained by a black leather holster and
cobalt cotton.
you kissed me with
******* in your nostrils and
nosebleed on your lips;
you killed me with
contempt in your mouth and
venom on your nails.

You are the sunrise
that illuminates the twisted roads ahead.

The photocopier
that seems to do what you didn’t want it to.

The branch
that sways precariously in the wind.

The clock
that stops, starts, stops, starts.

The froth
that dangles a little too far over the side of my cup.

The peach
that contains a solid stone under the façade.

The book
that always ends with unanswered questions.

The confetti
that looks glorious but doesn't stay for long.

The nosebleed
that stains my pillow at night.

The boomerang
that flew off in the distance, yet to return.

The rule was:
Where there is blood, there is pain.
Well maybe it isn't that obvious.

**** them all
I'll wear what I want and my nose ring too
that principal ***** is scared of me anyway
she looks every direction except mine
I try to walk near her in the hall
so she'll see I've busted the dress code
she's good at getting really engrossed in a conversation when I'm near
like the waitress at Applebys that looks right through me when I wanna order
people are so good at looking right through you it's scary
I can't look through anything
I see it all
I see my footprints on the sidewalk
******' followin' me
I see ******' atoms splitting
I see all the colors of light in the air
but sometimes I just see black
I go to fancy department stores
just to pull out clothes and let 'em drop
nobody ******' looks at me
except they're wondering if they'll have to call the police
maybe someday they'll have to call the police
then they'll see me
maybe for the first and last time
**** them all
sometimes I walk behind someone and grunt at 'em
I giggle when it scares 'em
but they always step aside and don't look at me
I just keep walking with those footsteps followin' me
and those colors turned to black in my eyes
I do like the **** who knocked me down that time
instead of steppin' aside
I like him fine
at least he saw me
at least he looked at me when he punched me
even if he did give me a nosebleed
and I lost my ring
tore it right out of my left nostril
and now there's a ******' scar
the janitor bandaged it up for me so I could go to class
I love that janitor dude
he's ******' awesome
he gives us *** and has a black cape hangin' on his wall
we can put on if we're in that kinda mood
it feels good to wear that cape
like Captain ******' Invisible
sometimes it takes the black away
sometimes the *** brings the colors back
I'd rather skip class and smoke *** with the janitor
but we're reading The Metamorphosis
now that's a ******' great book
a ******' nobody who becomes a monstrous vermin overnight
nobody's gonna forget that that's for sure
I wonder if Kafka locked himself in his room
like I do
I could turn into an insect and no one would know
since they don't look at me
well if they do look they don't see me anyway
I guess I am a vermin to them
the principal who doesn't wanna see me
and my sister who pretends she doesn't know me at school
and even my mom who only looks at me
to make sure I'm not wearing profanities on my shirt
**** that
******' big huge vermin ******' creepin' up behind you and grunting
and nobody even sees it comin'
that's a giggle right there
nobody sees it comin'
'cause nobody sees me
nobody sees me at all

i am never leaving here
i will sway and swing
and fill the humidity around me
with all the flavors
that once ran through
this beating body
but I will not leave
you see
i never saw things upside down
until we ran from everything
until legs sold out
and spent themselves on love
on you
and all it bought
was a grandstand view
of you
still running
still living

Sitting and waiting in the hospital reception area,
gave me time to think; and feeling even warier,
having just suffered the very first nosebleed of my life
and carrying within my wallet a warning card so rife
with the advice that its possessor is subject to the danger
(I know this may sound somewhat dog in manger)
inherent in an anticoagulant called rivaroxaban
and (if this doesn’t overstretch your attention span)
in the event of bruising or of bleeding
medical advice must be sought before proceeding
any further.  That is to say, at once, or even faster.
or, at least, with speed sufficient to avert disaster.

So, as I say, there sat I contemplating
(no, not my navel, but) the rather aggravating
progress of events that had brought me to this juncture,
that ended recently in a procedural puncture
preparatory to the insertion of a stent
the culmination of which they had to circumvent.
This gave me time, while waiting for the nurse
to minister to my problem, or at least rehearse
for my own delectation the best course
I would have to follow, not to make the situation worse.
At this point let me interrupt my own amorphous
rambling to pay due tribute to the hospital service.

This versifying for which I have developed a proclivity
means that I’m never at a loss these days for an activity
to occupy a boring period of gross inaction
replacing boredom with cerebral satisfaction.
So there I was, awaiting the arrival of the ****** nurse.
(Sorry, that sounds like an awful curse.)
In fact her blood-related treatment meant a lot to me
and was a simple adjective for her phlebotomy.
At that point my thoughts turned quite naturally
to the forthcoming repeat angiography,
and all the helpful comments by my  tender-hearted
friends, and the advice that they imparted.

I was quite astonished by the growing number
of people who this affliction did encumber
all of whom it seemed were anxious to ensure
that I was quite relaxed about what I had to endure.
Instead of being reassured I wondered
why the pessimists apparently were so outnumbered.
Indeed the views were so greatly one-sided
I found it strange there were no “undecided”.
Are they reluctant because of superstition?
Or is it that they wish to avoid an admission
that their empathic fear of ****** invasion
has led them to avoid arterial-related implantation?

But most of all I felt there should be scored
some “Nos” to balance the procedural record.
but they have been unbelievably silent,
whilst I’ve been growing every day more  violent.
Is it, dare I think, that it is just perhaps
because they may have suffered a relapse?
And then I had the most amazing thought of all,
and your objections I am anxious to forestall:
but I feel impelled to discuss the thought
that there’s a reason why they have not brought
their negativity to this post.  Is it quite beyond the pale
to suggest they’re no longer here to tell the tale?

This classic union
where my love beats me senseless
Oh, anything for me

She sits in the stands
Up in the nosebleed section
Cheering wildly, admiring her boys
In red and white
While he is under her hood
With soot-covered hands
Making sense of and fixing
Her mechanical mess.

Later on, she makes his favorite meal
To show him how much she loves him
But he shows up with takeout
And complains about how long it took
Just to replace the starter
In her red Corolla.

There's a difference between
Admiration
And love.

Hi, I'm calling to tell you that:
I wrote down everything you ever said to me (in the literal sense, standing stretched against my own uncultured and violently ****** vocabulary)
- And am regurgitating it back to innocent passerby - my sincerest apologies to those poor victims of circumstance, suspended in the projectile ***** of my dysfunctional disdain

(In a slew of worm guts and warm bodies, mama-bird to baby-bird saying "please don't leave the nest" - it's too hot for blankets anyways)

My original letter to you was written on the backside of an airplane **** bag, where I detailed my favorite scenes from a movie we subconsciously made entitled "Baby's First Time", while blissfully unaware of my stern faced in-flight companion.

My first draft, though, was a series of half-hearted winks and very, very drunk texts, beginning with:
          SEXT: I offer my services as sacrificial ******
(and followed a whopping six months later by)
          SEXT: I am still young enough to accuse you of statutory ****
(The art of seduction seems to be less of an art and more of a particular science)

You are:
- My own personal Edgar Allan Poe, just blonder and younger, with a bigger gut and a bigger ego and (alas!) a complete lack of interest in your sweet Annabel (but I could change my name)
- And oddly enough, I'm the one writing the poems here

(The whole world's a stage, with me just watching your sad indie boy band from the nosebleed seats)

i was living life on my knees when
I met JB, he was a song with a body part
in the title, a guardian, a saint, maybe a one-time
guitarist for Kiss.

(The last man to see Jesus, as far
as I am aware of, was the apostle John.
sometimes in his sleep he still whispered
“please don’t bury me, please
don’t bury me, please”.)

but JB had bowed to Baal, had kissed him,
bought a 20 dollar nosebleed from
a man with seven stars in his right hand,
a sharp thing in his mouth.
JB was not an apostle,
but he knew the knees of my heart,
gave his knees to the needy,
shoved soldiers, stared.

we spat in our gloves.
he said I have a swordfish mind,
but I have left 7,000 in Israel,
loved the oh of his mouth as the
stone rolled away, I have
met Jesus, face-to-face.
please don’t bury me.

these were the Great Days,
the First Aid: a myth that cost lives
taped us tight, and when he told me
that 150,000 people die in Britain every day
I said “instead, tilt your head forward,
pinch your nostrils shut and breathe with
your mouth; a half-sitting position with
your knees bent and head and shoulders.”

he did as I said and, later, John
put his **** in my mouth.

Reactive arthritis
affects the large joints, the knees,
causes pain, swelling,
an ectopic tongue on the floor
of the mouth.