Sham wow.
we shall slaughter our cows
and swim in the blood, my pal
No more plowing for these cows
I insist now that we bathe.

Sham wee.
I have to disagree
we've been bartering and broke
alas to these cows gave us meat
See our fields, vast and free
seeds of gold will make us rich!

A sham? It's a shame.
Selling paint and pans to you my man
a **** dripping payment
wishful thinking
I wish I had a *** to **** in
Kids in their Plymouths shouting
it's pathetic
I'd pepper spray any jaded figure
if they told me they had regrets

Let them run their mouths
Kids will be kids even when they're 33
Their Plymouths breaks down every week
jaded figure my ***, flaws they experienced
By inheritance they succeed
They age like any old man swerving their needs
We will have regrets if you don't listen to me.

Listen here
all wishing of life supreme
follow the divine ruler an ye shall not crumble
pests. 33 men or 33 boys?
whilst you waste sand deciphering,
thy kingdom withers
A **** drunk man hath no memory
no manners
torn lips. I twist at the sides waiting for death
succumb to regret and I shall spare no gratitude

Don't be deluded, you're just drunk
You're still 23 living in that big oak tree
If it wasn't for me
You'll be living in the streets
Let's finish this
Or u can bury yourself deep
within your life's agony

I detect mutiny
You trip over words while you question my authority
if a tellers words match a tellers hands, then why worry?
but I feel your dishonesty
I see it in the air you breathe
I question you because I can
Because I should
**Because I am
Supreme

50’s beach party
complete with twitchy go-go dancers
leather jackets
and old Plymouths
sand kicked in the faces of squares
as little Suzie Goodtime roller skates across the parking lot
picket fences shift from white to orange and pink
as they capture the sunset on a perfect American day –
free lovers swing signs
written in crayon
attempting to challenge the establishment
create world peace
through **** abuse and music in the park
subjugated and relegated to building a retirement platform
aged hipsters look at faded photographs
imagining a time they changed the all –
blown out coke head
bent on disco ***** and easy living
watches as Miami explodes
CIA operatives feeding high grade dope
to low rent projects
in an effort to funnel money and guns
into the Middle East –
gas wars and brokers as billionaires
death to glam rock and hairspray
the rise of bling and swag
selfies take center stage
unabashed introversion
as the skies are geometric grids
and the crops **** pollinators –
looking over a lifetime
of altering perception
and changing habits
the habitual nature of humanity
shines as a solid base from which all else stems
forced to recognize my own place in the septic tank
I stand as an observer and documenter
cleverly bending the woes
of the world
into words
for the lost –

words that hang like shutters
from broken hinges.

words that hover like nurses
after surgery.

words that splatter like
thin remorse.

I heave with sickness
when they arrive.

I spring with ebullience
when they leave the ** dunk
parts of my mind.

these words
these ******* words
that show up in Pontiacs,
in Plymouths, in Pintos

these nonsensical,
satirical,
antiquated words.

they charge at you
like a dead bovine
swinging from a meat hook.

they crawl towards you
like a silverfish
out of the sink drain.

they creep up on you
like an old ***
rattling a change cup.

why? I ask myself.

why does this happen?

I don’t want this kind of ailment;
give me
bee stings
or bedsores
or steam burns
but not these words,

these words that linger like shingles
across the ribcage of burning torment.

I pray without ceasing
towards a signified God.

I pray for simple sacrifice;

I want suicide rather than poetry.
I want a cow without milk.
I want a statue without structure.
I want a woman without grace.

I can feel the floodgates opening soon
and I think I’m going to puke my guts
out all over this page again.