The needle tore a hole two nights ago,
I didn't bite my tongue.
But it stung.

And bled. Slightly.
The lines lead
     to more lines,
Each was easier. Slightly.

And when I walked away for the night,
Come day I was clean.
And now I wear short sleeves.
Cause they can ask me "Did it Hurt?"
     And I will say "Ask Reznor, not Cash."

I’m picturing these two deities
sharing a loft just off of Madison Avenue,
maybe near an F-train subway station.
Naturally, the neighbors are complaining
of glass shattering bleeding screams
and thick, throbbing scents of charred hair
penetrating the floors above and below
while Trent Reznor’s trademark chain in the breeze voice
blares “I WANNA ******* LIKE AN ANIMAL”
from some speaker system seemingly embedded
in the trembling walls turned all the way up to “*******.”

Opening the door to reprimand the two,
the landlord is shocked
to find thick, juicy molten stains
of red wine and blood pulsating a putrid perfume
akin to petrol mixed with cinnamon sweat
as shards of plates and glasses glisten
across the kitchen and living room
while the duo erupts
into a carnal carnival of frenzied roller-coaster screams
as Kali plucks out a rib of Dionysus to lick and gnaw
and while her runaway train hips derail against his—
he stuffs out a cigar against her shoulder
despite blindfolded eyes and ankles handcuffed
to the hissing oven
while she shoves shrooms dipped in acid
down his throat
simultaneously sniffing the remaining white powder rocks
from under his nose.

The burning wild eyes of both beings slam
against their skulls--
exploding pupils cartwheel with each ******.  
The landlord cries, tears teetering the steak knife's edge
of maniacal hyena glass shattering laughter
and wrist-slitting sadness
until both beings ******
a mushroom cloud volcano blast piercing souls & hearts
bleaching away reality in a reverse black hole super nova
just past Park Ave.

I'm running my hands through my hair,
ripping out the loose strands.
I'm finding nothing in our lives,
goes just as planned.

I'm tired so I rub my eyes,
but nothing seems to satisfy that itch I have for sleeping by your side tonight,
isn't this a wonderful life?

It's six years of burning tears,
broken hearts and confirmed fears,
that everyone I know goes away in the end,
just like Trent Reznor said.
And every day is a new fight,
and I don't know if I'll make it out alive,
so when I rest my head at the end of the day,
I thank God I survived the fray,
because under the circumstances,
I shouldn't be alive,
but I am,
so I'll take it.

Sitting, fishing for compliments,
the pole becomes too heavy.
Simply, blame our biggest fish,
somehow denying advice entirely.
Flirting to concede by the stream,
vaguely dreaming of obscurity.

Spiraling downward, sinking at sea.
Murky depths swallow wholly.
Descending into imagination,
strange thoughts ignite reality.

Strangers in darkness,
awakening the gloom.
Tripping over ideas, centuries old.
Images of heroes manifest.
Ciphering; the will to power,
the endurance to grow.

Their thoughts come in waves.
Nietzsche, Reznor, Sartre and Kyo.
Each a different color, one very bold.
Monochromatic, they highlight.
Lips move, but nothing is told.

Feeling cursed, desperately resuming previous functions.
Trapped in a skinner box, pressing the same button.
Dreaming of thoughts wishful to hold.
Embracing the pain, becomes something gold.

All I feel right now
Is pain a physical
A slouching like an ER
An error

My mind decided
I cry for help
Listen to me !
I am hurt

Not like Reznor or Cash
Not like losing you
More like a toothache
Or an apendectomy

I find no comfort
I find no relief
Hopefully this young intern
Will write me a scrip

Of sweet oxycontin or
Vicodin
For I am tired of feeling pain
I am tired of being sick

therefore he characterizes himself as an anomaly...any idea why?

Mortified, petrified, stultified, et cetera sheltered,
and mortally wounded prepubescent,

I consider myself
analogously buttressed, cocooned,
garrisoned (for bing keeler),
hardened, insulated,
where cell baited jumping frog
o' Montgomery County ne'er
went leaving larvae stage,
now no divine providential
power can assuage,

yours truly metaphorically locked
within invisible iron bound cage
every occasion to shower
validates steep wage
permanently doled out,
yet tis futile to rage
against this human machine
i.e. body dielectric rampage
clocking three scored

orbitz chronological gauge
forever fixed feigned fodder,
when unlived uber story
of mein kampf writ faint
chicken scratch final page
gin hated anorexic
regressive toddling cribbage
deadly game of mine Life pampered
post infancy attended

Aladdin (a lad in) his hermitage
late childhood marriage
with grim reaper as
coefficient co-inhabitant
feasting emaciated lovely bones
verily scrawny, puny, and
nerdy, yea easy to lyft
courtesy lost livingsocial scrimmage
trademark spindleshanks -

stagnant embarrassingly useless
two legged equipage
at childhood's end...,
me skinny package then
weighing, eh no
more'n half dozen stone,
these days when
******* to wash
forced to espy physical

**** sapiens wreckage
constant visual reminder
this spare rankled, stunted,
tendered ship of state,
yours truly nah oh sage
enlightenment gleaned i.e.
20/20 hindsight kickstarted
quickened, leveraged, mortgaged...,
principly unbalanced worthiness

anatomical disparity
impossible mission to salvage
accounting rent permanently askew
fixed APR rendered
amortization sabotage
irreversible penalty suffrage
escaping serfdom volunteering
self as webbed vassalage
til death do me part.

Subsequently, his female
persona pacified, but *****
Wonka who could offer
the golden ticket
to the chocolate factory
(and provide restitution
to mine childhood,
whereat I could select
the road not taken
setting me on a course
to healthy maturation

of body, mind, and spirit)
honest to dog housed
somewhere in Philly
within himself aptly,
coed gently, optimally,
suitably, verily, wonderfully
called Anna Milly,
which readership reception
might surprisingly please Billy
me not intended tubby
icy cold nor chilly...

After chugging, guzzling,
sipping, quaffing... wine
bitter to this teetotaling
(pharmacological medication dependent)
tongue as quinine
undoubtedly equally unpalatable
getting pricked with rusty nine
inch nails, (thank you
Trent Reznor) analogous
to being crucified
(been there done that)
inebriated self actualization
regarding mine
mental clarity crossed

figurative thin blue line
abnormality dawned
inside fifty shades
of gray matter marinated
these long years in brine,
which realization bubbled,
fizzled, nudged, plastered,
eventually spurred
bile lent reflux
in short shrift
generating poem without
rhyme, reason, but
essentially drivel concocted
blimy verse unarguably asinine.

Just bear with me and
swallow this poetic bunk,
no matter (ah mint) absolute
zero ***** drunk,
nor other alcoholic beverage
(amber liquid of
the dog gods) downed,
despite feeling in
deep purple funk
cuz that would wreak havoc
courtesy grapes of

wrath fermented gunk
very little liquor necessary
to plaster laughingstock
(sand thrown in these myopic eyes)
by any best buy, garden variety,
home depot hunk
treating me like
unwanted, outdated, and housed
née cooped (with toys in the attic) junk
enshrouded himself covered
with dust evokes monk.

Quickly, mostly easily forgotten about
elapse of time promoted doubt
regarding, weekday, month, year...
and purposeless either
to twist or shout
cuz pervasive fishy developmental
gill tee subservience deeply
affected him while
trout fishing in America.