If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet,
Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street.
Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie.
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!
  Five and twenty ponies,
  Trotting through the dark—
  Brandy for the Parson,
  ‘Baccy for the Clerk;
  Laces for a lady, letters for a spy,
And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodlump if you chance to find
Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine,
Don’t you shout to come and look, nor use ’em for your play.
Put the brishwood back again—and they’ll be gone next day!

If you see the stable-door setting open wide;
If you see a tired horse lying down inside;
If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore;
If the lining’s wet and warm—don’t you ask no more!

If you meet King George’s men, dressed in blue and red,
You be carefull what you say, and mindful what is said.
If they call you “pretty maid,” and chuck you ’neath the chin,
Don’t you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one’s been!

Knocks and footsteps round the house—whistles after dark—
You’ve no call for running out till the house-dogs bark.
Trusty’s here, and Pincher’s here, and see how dumb they lie—
They don’t fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by!

If you do as you’ve been told, ‘likely there’s a chance,
You’ll be given a dainty doll, all the way from France,
With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood—
A present from the Gentlemen, along o’ being good!
  Five and twenty ponies,
  Trotting through the dark—
  Brandy for the Parson,
  ‘Baccy for the Clerk;
Them that asks no questions isn’t told a lie—
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen bo by!

I’m tired of influencers faking nervousness.
my generation wants to care less
these days.
it’s a counter-current hack.
we want to be less defined.
we can search and reflect for ourselves.
we’re sick of the emotion
that’s all over everyone’s faces,
the unsightly splotches of opinion.
the entire election machine,
the process of getting there, is smudged.
It’s a curated mess, an advising spin,
an incomprehensible hex:

“Oh profit pondering,
contradictory means to an end
- bless weave, and conceal,
bloodless dollar debt options,
painful penny pincher paradoxes,
and deadly debt bliss dilemmas..”

“Is this a witch or an arbitrager?” Lisa asked, after rudely leaning over and reading up to this point.
“I was shooting for a numinous type of beat,” I revealed.
“We’re supposed to be working on our thesis definitions,” she said accusingly.
“Are you not challenged, here, hour by hour?” I asked sarcastically.
“I need ideas - well - I have too many ideas, I need some focus, I wanted to see what you had.”
I deadpan looked at her, “Well, you broke the spell - I lost my train.” I complained dryly.
“Don’t put me in a situation.” she said, waving my gripe off as insignificant.
.
.
Songs for this:
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
drive ME crazy! by Lil Yachty
Melt by Nilüfer Yany

The weight of a dream
Broken up against the rocks
Of my distractions:
I'll abandon this one, too,
Content with the same old things.

I wander through the world
                to make my own math.
Maybe a kid with
ice cream will stumble
across my path one day
and venture the scene.

Brown grass and an
abundance of wheat,
mangled trees and
ice cube sun rays--maybe
something in between.

As a wayward
Purple Pincher Hermit Crab, I
float through ocean currents.
As a North coast coyote
sometimes I can't tell what I am.

Just wandering through
ice cold smoke, smoldering ash,
apple orchards, joyful torture,
dead rose gardens,       a thornyard,
a sunflower sanctuary. Serenity,

I wear no crown, no ermine cape,
I eat beetles and grasshoppers
off of a rusted plastic plate.

Mail order groom.
I want to know you.
The sound of your voice.
The smell of your perfume.
Your handwriting.
Your habits.
Favorite food.
Your favorite place.
Hobbies.
Your flaws.
Your goals.
The things you like
Things you hate.
Who you love.
What makes you happy.
What makes you mad.
What you spend money and time on.
Who you love.
Who you hate.
Your favorite color.
Your biggest fear.
Your worst nightmare.
Your dreams.
Your beliefs.
Your qualities.
Your favorite games, books, movies or TV shows.
What size ring you wear.
What size shoe you wear.
Your favorite toothpaste, shampoo, & soap.
What's your most prized possession?
What are your skills?
Your allergies?
Do you have patience?
Respect?
Admiration?
Confidence?
Knowledge?
Intelligenc­e?
Greed?
Are you generous?
Charming?
Or do you make trouble?
Are you careful?
Or careless?
Are you sentimental?
Are you spoiled?
Do you brag?
Do you gossip?
Can you keep secrets?
Do you have shame?
Are you shy?
Are you a private person?
Does anything you do offend anyone?
Do you insult or compliment?
Do you glance or stare?
Do you tip?
Are you kind of mean?
Do you have manners?
What do you eat?
Are you a neat freak?
Or sloppy or neat?
Clean or *****?
Do you swear?
What do you have wear?
Do you sleep naked?
Do you lie, cheat or steal?
Are you honest and dependable? Trustworthy, helpful, and considerate?
Obnoxious?
Sober?
Drunk?
Do you cook?
Are you hard working?
Or lazy?
Do you eat meat?
Brush and wash daily?
Wash your own clothes?
Shop yourself?
Drive?
Mow your own lawn?
Vacuum?
Wash dishes?
Are you a licensed driver?
Do you have a car and health insurance?
Do you own property?
What are your assets?
Do you work full time?
Are you educated?
Do you respect women?
Do you like children & pets?
Are you mature?
Do you own a car?
Do you rent or own?
Do you exercise?
Are you fat?
Do you smoke?
Are you a handyman?
Can you fix cars?
Plumbing?
Paint?
Are you creative or an artist?
Are you nosy?
Do you read a lot?
What are you know that you
Do you mind your business?
Do you have a temper or anger management problems?
Are you violent & controlling?
Are you obsessed with *** or *******?
Are you a pervert?
Are you sane?
Are you busy?
Do you have a lot of free time?
Are you religious?
Do you vote?
Are you a loner?
A mama's boy?
An alcoholic?
Obsessive compulsive?
Do you speed?
Do you use sarcasm?
Are you a good driver?
Are you a lawbreaker?
Do you kiss and tell?
Are you a tattle tell?
Are you selfish?
Are you a rebel?
Are you conceited or ******?
Are you desperate or needy?
Are you nice and fun?
Are you bitter, creepy, scary, nervous, impatient, cruel, hateful, abusive, or sick?
Do you collect anything?
Are you well-dressed?
Well-spoken?
Do you make wise investments?
Are you an overachiever?
Are you responsible?
Convincing?
Do you like to argue?
Are you positive?
Or pessimistic?
Are you adventurous?
Or reserved?
Do you like to be the center of attention?
Or a Wallflower?
Do you blame others for your problems? Do you admit to fault ?
Do you need help financially, medically,  physically, mentally or sexually?
Do you like to have *** with the lights on and off?
Do you bathe or shower alone?
Do you shave, trim your nails, wear clean socks  & underwear?
Do you open other peoples mail?
Do you dig through the trash?
Do you always flush the toilet?
Do you snore?
Do you use deodorant, toothpaste,
Do have tattoos?
How do you wear your hair?
Do your clothes have holes, stains, or tears?
Do you need glasses, hearing aids, crutches, wheelchairs, walkers, braces or insulin?
Are you at are you obese, scizo, diabetic?
Do you have bad credit?
Do you have any injuries or surgeries?
Do you color your hair or tan?
Do you moisturize?
Floss?
Do you check the oil?
Do you barbecue?
Do you ****, burp, or pick your nose?
Do you cut in line?
Have you ever been arrested?
Are you a Penny Pincher?
Coupon Clipper?
Are you cheap?
Do you complain a lot?
Do you call people names?
Have you ever done anything to trick or con someone?
Are you understanding & forgiving?
Are you a cheater?
Have you ever been arrested?
Have you ever treated anyone cruly?
Are you rude or brutal?
Do you have any abnormal fetishes?
Are you flirty, friendly, persistent, or immoral?
Are you ambitious, determined, motivated, & successful?
Are you confused, depressed, anxious, poor, angry, or unemployed?
What are your values, concerns, goals and plans?

He tears petals off flowers with a limp wrist,
hoping one day he'll hope for something more than just another tryst.
But his hope, like his desire, is lethargic.

He wastes no pennies on a wish.

He's convinced a seed was sown long ago,
when he let a stray emotion get the better of him.
But he's never let the water touch the soil since,
for fear of what would grow.

He resists having to tend a garden born from a whim.

Just a snake wearing a farmer's skin.
Too distracted by his own hiss to hear the promise of kisses.
He pinches his pennies with off-green thumbs held close to his chest,
and he wastes none on wishes.

A broken heart is a dropped mirror against the bathroom floor
each shard scattering across the linoleum,
fragments reflecting the hidden parts
to something they thought they knew, oh so well.

The lining around the toilet really needs some hands on work--
behind it the sand dunes of the Arabian Desert.
Clumped up hair trying to mimic the humps of camels,
and a lone razor blade as frayed as
a lost wandered amongst the sand.

Wooden panels enriched with the holes of last times termites--
corners splayed with the webbings,
of those **** daddy long legs,
and a pincher bug trudging their way to a hole in the corner.

Picking up the pieces, was something to learn from.
This common room they thought they knew, oh so well,
actually had a hidden world just beneath their view.
Maybe the heart broke just like the mirror,
to open the mind to all the other things near by.

The splitting of hairs
Anti-oxidants
Numbers that are easy to remember
And the counting of sheep

Sure enough
The Penny Pincher is bent out of shape
Clean as a whistle
And secretly queer as a three dollar bill

My life is an open book
Case closed
Looking for the special someone
Who will see my half closed casket half opened

Fast acting laxative
Are you chicken?
Reopen all the wounds
For what it's worth
Will you go by the rule of thumb
If it's all the same to you?

1
When you extend
time changes into words
reaches toward common history

Inspect your saga
motivations for doing
anything

inflating bike tires
handstands on the grass
riding the night train home
scrawling a drunken note



2
surprise registry
sorrow spreading like dank fire
under the skin of your face
the piano calls

"rattle columbo skee-dazzle"
now wave them around
hypnotic and sincere
you must believe

in the something I'm transmitting
up the live wires
into a collective hive
or down by the rustling dumpsters



3
cast off shells
spent nutrition and supplements
inform a blood ooze
"I can't, I just can't"

gurgling on a blanket of blood
one arm waving
half a pincher bug
electricity still making it happen

another loop of living
purely motion driven
without purpose
the body stays and stays



4
the mind burns and slips
another dark portal
born voyager
bon voyage-r

out of cleaner hands
rough with hairy splinters
combine powers
find a way off this rock



5
vortex of hand-woven sediment
chambray and needlepoint
tiny backstitched leaves, flowers
sang a little song while he did it:

"Ol' brown poesy,
something something Alabama"
"Shut up, Kid!"
waving, eyes wilder

his blood comes out
more and more
glistening cough
thick bubbles of dark



6
paint the hard stroke
his pained face
get back from it, step out
of his way

his oncoming fate
panic burned streets
camps springing up
fingerfuls of air

"I just can't, I can't"
a weak wave, he lays back down
other words too far from the surface
he waves



7
his hands tremble
spent impulses
so natural
the soul slips

gears burn out
the metal whines and snaps
the straps are off and he is gone
rabbit's foot bound

now a blur in cosmic space
flashing toward a diamond planet
inference of his purpose
light-years for comprehension

Thus be my curse or thus be my gift,
Itching and scratching yet never relaxing
through my brain thy sift.
A radar of such
with a thousand blips
searches an infinite falling sky
for clouds of dragons fierce and ghosts
preposterous in vapid moments
between a green eye flashing.

In the center of static mind spins
a lighthouse splattered in graffiti
paint from wicked galaxies,
illuminating ships already docked,
While others scrape the jagged thoughts
pincher piercing, sinking in magnetic soot,
later to be rubber-banded around the maelstrom
In a chasm that ***** the world dry
and vomits the taste that is too bitter.

Oh god the embarrassing flick on
flick off, hey look at the birds,
how they fly formations
like ripples in the pond to feed the
Little ones in a tree.
screeching in glee through mushy
worms of moist earth;
oh their I go again.

My adolescent paparazzis just all come and say
To counter the spink and magic music is a getaway
My view is a heathen
The club is alive and all
The funniest vision
Where trumpeters play such a song
My feet are cold
What should I do
My essence body is calling you

No forgiving
The underworld is for the hide-and-seek
Try, try, traitor
For the one who doesn’t write a song
Lose, lose, winner
The harp of luna can’t be traded off
Go to dinner
Driving out and sing a different song

Come a bit later
Trying to see
A picture of boys that soothe and cancer and see lots of taxidermy
The tie and newspaper
My amusement is great
The poison capital diamond
Tied to what’s on

Dripping harmonies and symptoms
Grabbing tools and violins
Thumping banners of all wisdom
Grabbing children funny kids
The pincher grabs a thunder
I would like to have fun in a perilous game
The sun is raging backwards
My understatement

I've listened to different gurus sattelite their messages from brooding

tax-paying entities

and maybe swallowed enough for my own labyrinth

to let mosquitos and even leeches have their own have at it

there have been enough essays' published in my college days to keep me occupied, though I was high I managed to write a couple more (essays) to **** up against em

(if I haven't proven a point already)

throw a sucker punch across the blue stream ralleys' and then an abusurdist crusade will hatch itself on proletariat jargon for mind game dummies

any point to get sicker?

cause with another delving pincher you'll find yourself in a new clincher that sets up moral envies that sip acid juice and grab ivy's for escapist hijabs and lickedey split you'll think "best of luck" to the nonprofet outlets trying to bring awareness to trashcan lids that could be waddled in an out of brewery suds for clinking pennies, shaken up by a weary sister coffee can tips that are end up swallowed by the family ford and hi cee sips, count the frays:

and portraits of drawn meals seals the deals

and yolking enough eggs for developing teenagers

and whisking ***** manifestations

and ode to band posters by third party members

and shine a light on rescue missions

play clue guessing who posted that one, could it be the unexpected or the obvious?

the former ******* your cheeks with marlmalade,

the latter maybe a pictograph to save

yeah, I'd look it over again,

I wish for a paint brush to search for that hidden gem of maroon 7

and I swear they don't make a mustard with gas station cherry sour

of course, I'll blow a poison dart through the numbers dialed for lionesque mantels that spit ice y hot all over the resurfacing faces from burlesque challenges dated two weeks back,

now got to remember

was that where I was at?

I’m sorry I’m your heart breaker.
Penny-pincher; love-taker
Joy-sucker; hurt-maker
I’m sorry I’m your heart breaker.  

I’m sorry I’m your worst fear.
Pull you close; hold you near-
But now I’m going to disappear.
I’m sorry I’m your worst fear.

I’m sorry I’m your dark night.
If I could give you wings- let you take flight
I would in a second- to escape my own spite.
I’m sorry I’m your dark night.