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1.5k · Jul 2017
Raping Dancers
Youdont Needthis Jul 2017
A smile is knowing
The dark crease of a well-arched spine
The dewy white lotus petals
The sad title of concubine
The blue glass so plainly beautiful
With its cold smooth sides
A blown vase that sits precious
Atop a dead deer's stretched hide
The hallowed ***** of a portruding illiac
And the decadent crust of a sweet fruit pie

On a black vinyl stage floor
In a room filled with echoing cries
The reverberance loud and hollow
With ears ringing opened wide

The bends of her young tendons
In her ropey pale limbs
They flex and harshly twitch
How a scared and hooked fish swims

The cyclic orbits of planets and lifetimes  
A ballerina's pirouette spins

Now the tarlatan and muslin gets torn to shreds
And the blinding stage lights quickly dim
The wet heat of a hungry tongue
Slaps upon her sweating skin

The audience simply does nothing
Just like the tall plant stalks of the green motel
Or the muddy vines in swamps in Rwanda
Or white wallpaper in the locked rooms of certain hells
The diseases that squirm in tainted waters
Of Liberia's ***** wells
The missing limbs of wartime amputees
Reflected in the golden glint of spent brass shells

Amidst the screams of
NO
STOP
NO
It yells the words
GO
GOD
GO

Through the grinning lips of the manifest destiny
And the arms of Khmer Rouge's killings
Its legs are formed from the many faces of lynch mobs
Its hands are hewn of American prison facilities and county jails
It's dripping deadly doses of fentanyl in local ****** shipments    
And ****** dancers
GO GOD GO GO GOD GO GO GOD GO GO GOD GO GO GOD GO GO GOD GOD GO
1.2k · Jan 2017
Upon Blond Stripes
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Upon blond stripes
Lie silken hooves
With ripe and gutted cherubs

Upon blond stripes
Rinse molten flecks
The Satan shakes of corporate vest
The cubic keys beneath beaten fingers and
Stinging needles in women painted

Upon blond stripes
Curls burning bible
Crestfallen to dust against a glistening tongue

Upon blond stripes
Belched mountain laughter
Shattered across
Surgical steel

Upon blond stripes
Children slept with sagging disaster and heaved
Trashcan embryos
In giggling rage
While

Under blond stripes
The lids close sewn
Deaf to the death of unbroken bones
1.2k · Jan 2017
Xipe Totec
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Flayed lord of the harvest
Robed in mortal’s meat
He wears men’s hands upon his hands
Feet upon his feet

Human faces are wrapped tight across his darkened skull
In his hands he grips the fertile seeds

In his likeness
Dresses the mortal priest

Before the reap of the planted
The harvest must be blessed
The fatal flint of arrow tips must pierce through limbs and breast
It must coax the sanguine
To spurt in river flows
Their death brings balance
Clouds and godly quenching heaven rain

After the earth is slaked
The seeds must be kissed
Kissed by the cracking sounds of flesh
Torn by tearing whips
Just as the skin is split
So shall the shell of seed
The maize will flourish in tall stalks of vibrant fibrous greens

At rite’s final end
The mortal priest shall dance
He shall feel the skin upon his skin
The hands upon his hands
He will be Xipe Totec
He shall perform his will
Until his vessel’s vessel is potted in the tight bowled clay
1.1k · Jan 2017
The Wrathful Goddess
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
From holy flame thy frame was wrought
Through war cry praise thy name was brought
By scholars taught and by fighters cheered
In wooden gaze thy soul revered
Thus beneath the blaze thy name was seared

Of soil born
By sweet land nourished
In corpse cremation
Thy strength hath flourished

Volcanic is thy raging force
Titanic is thy fullest span
Crash forth through giant’s iron cage
Gorge on the feeble corpse of man

At silent light of quiet dawn
Near lake of waters chilled
The wine is slowly poured
The eight skulls are filled

With violent blast of hunter’s horn
Thy food shall be roped and bound
Thy chosen daughter shall raise an ax
Inflict the righteous glorious pain

Once thy food is severed
Thy blessing shall flow fast from its chunks
Thy daughter shall drink it quick  
She shall not spill a single drop

The wine of the eight skulls shall sweeten
With presence of thy oaken scent
Divine wrath shall envelop all
After thy jaws are fully fed
985 · Jan 2017
Mother Bony
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Deep in wood’s twig embrace
She lies beneath the leaf tessellation
Her hollow skull and hollow chest are friends with the burning winds
She is hallowed in her sloping waist
With child

She is mother bony
Woman with skinless face
She is grinless
For her jaw was stolen in ages past
Yet she is blessed with child
Her middle is heavy with boundless boy

A boy fated
To be *******
Emperor
Tyrant
King
To be lord of the shattered lands and even their scattered men
Destined to be crowned in fragments of skulls and silky fabric reds
He shall mate with fire
Be father of arson spawn
His face will be carved in Mammon’s silver toys

He will never be forgotten by any of history’s tedious scribes
Yet first he must be born

Now the winds are chanting
They push at her pudgy waist
They are chanting for the birth of the emperor ******* king
They desire the tyrant
They are the slaves of God
For they are catalysts that mold the shapes of futures’ lords
They will sing triumphant
When he is pushed through dusty hips
They will congratulate their oldest and most silent friend  

He is birthed with great force
The spit of cadaverous womb
Crying shrieks in the forest
No one living to clean him

By spirits’ force he is taught
To eat the last of mother’s skin
To grow to be the friend of the whispering burning winds

He shall grow into great beast
With strength to wield the lance
He will enter the kingdoms of men
Appearing as a wild God

While he is shaping his role
His mother will often laugh
Ever since he left her
Her body was never again the same
917 · Jan 2017
Brother
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Drunk and violent
I am stumbling over the civil dead
And my toe is caught in their quilt of twisted limbs
There are mother necks
Daughter legs
And fat infant heads
Their skin is a flesh ceramic
That is smooth appearing
Icy cool against my feet
Ceramic soon to be sculpted by scavengers’ ravenous jaws
Into disfigured cradles for writhing spawn of bug

With force I free my toe
I have no time to idle
I am late to my brother’s home

We are in his garden
Backyard desert earth
Greens
Pinks
Woods
Rocks
Clods of clotted dirt
His hands are watering the tangled vines at their pinkish roots
Solemnly he waters with copper tears and spit
To the east I am staring
At the white wall of brick
I wonder what lives inside these spongy chunks

When he finishes watering
He turns his neck
His head
He faces me
Killing my gaze with the porous wall

The lips beneath his compound eye swing wide and fully apart  
He mournfully breathes
Words with sharpened vowels
The letters are sallow blond

My wife
She left
Away
My wife
I slit her throat
My wife
I beat her
Beat her dead
She’s buried by child oak
You smell like whiskey
Brother
You smell like musky goat
You smell like the civil dead that line the path to my wealthy home
803 · Jan 2017
The Holy Realm
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
I have reached the end
I am at last triumphant

I am pedigree of pious desire and knowledge eternally sacred
I have welcomed the pilgrims
I have guided their yearning will
To the celestial comforts of feathers’ yellows and sanctity’s whites
Whites white as my waving robe and now my thin white gown
In which I await my appointed time

My tongue is wriggling
Circling across my gums
In sensuous reveling of my life’s most blessed and greatest times
For I have laid eyes upon the glory of life’s highest gifts
For I have laid hands upon the most succulent succubus fertile hips
And I have supped of *****’s glisten
I swam in Bacchus’s wines
I have recited doctrines of worship
I worshipped saliva’s shine
And I have observed communion
I drank it with ***** dust
I have read the hatha yoga
**** as the first man forged
And I have anointed blossoming ******* beneath the holy sigil

Sputtering laughter
Only trottel bows in truth and believes I dispense
A cleansing and redeeming eternal salvation
Have you no eyes to see my body’s common human shape?
Do you think I’m fat from God’s great love?
I cackle in the presence of such unwieldy weakness

Although my bones are sagging
More sagging is my wrinkled brain!
My memories are mating and birthing strange chimerical forms
They’re flooding and blending
Into vivid dreamlike collage
I see the faces of children I’ve taught
Atop necks of ****** I’ve known

The cheap locations of ****** have grafted with the echoing halls of cathedrals
Bizarre lights of nightclub glow are dancing upon spiritual texts
I hear an angelic litany
Sung through a stripper’s lips
I feel sheep’s wool
In the tousled hair of my boyish youth
I taste sweat in the bread of religion’s stoic privation

My air is growing more ragged
With every pitiful inhale I take
I feel light although I still see my heavy gluttonous flesh
My spirit is peeling away  
Beyond my body’s earth
Arising high above from mortality’s curse

I am ascending into the holy realm
A realm with gates inviting
Like opened lotioned legs

I can see my own corpse
Surrounded by genuine reverence
They don’t even notice the shot glass
Still clutched in my pasty fist
668 · Jan 2017
He Who Has No King
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Chariots spinning on snake wrapped wheels fly forth through his fiery shins
The horses have sitar faces
Ancestor voices vocalize with ethereal hymns
The imperial rims shall want but have no get
Flung forth into hypnotic dishes of nets
Gasping for water in heightened air

Trickle with spirit and deadly measures
With morality a broken metronome
A boulder smeared with clumps of pulp of mango
Flamingo bends in the fiery knees
Seven arms
Nine heads

Existed from oceans beatings
Lightning of wrathful suns
Tears shed skinned and dappled face of brimming whim

Orangutan spiked fur
Perfumed of jungles’ musk and fleas
Pinkish hand with crevice knuckles
To no king he bends the patella gates

He leads the ravaging conquests
Endless horse and bird
A Danube of feathers
Sterling melting herd
To no king he hands the scepter

He is pouting child
Devil wig and fist
Sprinting in red abyss amidst the hands of slaves
To no king shall he relinquish the ribcage trophy
618 · Dec 2018
How Things Should Be
Youdont Needthis Dec 2018
You live in a cul de sac
Every house is built exactly the same
Just painted different
Some butter yellow and bright
Some a ripe tomato's skin

You don't know any of your neighbors
You don't know who lives right next to you
They have kids or something
Maybe

The newspapers are kept in a locked safe in the middle of the neighborhood
You use your digital code to pluck one out
After walking outside in the hot summer sun
You return home
Read the headlines
And smoke *** in the dining room

It takes a little while to peak

The kids come home from school
The Wife's home from work

You're spinning
You have span
You hath spun

The dust of the angel
Has blessed you with wings

They sprint away for their lives
Your three kids and only wife

But you're too fast

First you chase down your youngest
Too young and weak to even have a chance at escape
You grab him by the ankles and split him apart with your bare hands

You're out the door and tearing across the asphalt
You hear their screams but no one else is outside
And no one cares to leave their house
The middle child is no where to be seen
But the oldest is hopping over the stucco brick walls

You follow
Lawns and patio furniture
Dogs and small swimming pools
Just frightening blurs
The oldest son trips over the knarled stump of a shrub
And once again you hold both ankles
His skin and bones part
His whole body gives way
And you're a rusty plow to the wet earth
You're the sharp sickle to the golden wheat

There's only one left
You can't even remember a middle child
Was there another child

The wife is just a sprint away
Holding ancient technology
A payphone
There shouldn't be any of those left

You dig your toes in
The rubber of your boots melts and reeks
Your wife's form bends in the burning heat
But now you're there
Face to face
And instead of the ankles
You're just staring into her eyes

You see a verdant land
Green with live growth
Covered in compost and fertilizer
Trash and feces

A beautiful
Wonderful land covered in ugly waste
To flourish and bloom
To be bought and sold

You're holding her tight and sobbing
I'm scared
I'm so scared
I'm scared

She reaches in her pocket and withdraws her nine milimeter
She shoots you through the chest and your heart bursts
Your last thoughts are just drivel

The angels smile while they ruin your ******
584 · Jan 2017
The Will of the Spirits
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Bones
Broken
Skin
Cut

Tree
Arms
No
Sun

Mint
Breath
Ragged
Gasp
­
Lips
Parted
Tongue
Slashed

Red
Metal
Hot
Taste

Gurgle
Moan
Tea­rs
Face

Green
Iris
Candle
Flame

Black
Wax
Hair
Same

Lick
Fingers
*****
Light

Prepare
Chalice
Take
Knife

Grip
Neck
Crazed
Pulse

Cut
S­platter
Life
Force

Enter
Trance
Drink
Flood

Split
Earth
Devour
­Sun

Heavens
Flowers
Hells
Drums

Beast
Blessing
Will
Done

Will
­Done
Will
Done
570 · Jan 2017
Hallucinations
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Vitiate the hull of mutton
Taste the stringy woman lungs
Suffocating in coiling scaly black tar demon ***** smoke
The voluptuous carpentry is anxiously hyperventilating
Your throat is baby xylophone
You teeth are fuzzy rabbits
Their fur is thick and itchy upon your tongue

The slide of octopus silk is massaging the nerves to pointy slumber
Deep in the cauldron the baleen gates are straw and rapidly parting
For some reason they won’t swim up
You taste salt’s bite
Emerge from the sea before you drown
You silly fool

Pilgrims are waging the mass death
Great lynches mandated by God
Wailing with stinking dying young
Having a picnic at the gallows

Whiskey shivers alive
Boiling and screaming in tongues
Strobing from inhuman pain to morphine stupor’s loving numb

Your ****** is a pastor
Your child is the angel that keeps you from returning home to rosy Eden

Eve
Your families’ legs are sewn in a knot
They are frantically dancing the reel of the beheaded roach
Untie their rainbow thighs
To pay penance for your grave disobedience

Apologize to your hardworking father
He’s doing the best he can
Forgive your ungrateful daughter
Adam
Cain
David

Washroom
Pam is crying
Towels are crying
Soap is laughing
I’m laughing  
You’re Pam

You are mouse and you are crumb
Yellow red striped glaucous cat
The fawn’s neck pulsing thick with squirming lump of rat

Realize
This is all occurring
In the wan lakes of your lady eyes
Seventy six have you
Love
****
Breed

The paper walls are breathing in melodic unison with
Thee

You are the Christian
Frantic running from the lion’s jaws
You are bored and waiting for the Greek tragedy
You are Hindu
Attempting to dodge Britain’s guns
You mercilessly ram the bayonet into his muddy wrinkly face

You see the assassin firing
See the bullets pierce
Yet all you feel is your index finger hooking the smooth trigger
And the rough handle of the handgun

The black eared checkered cat
Hissing with xiphoid lizard teeth
Not pretty enough to support your drug religion

Hungers for smiling child
Hungers for drowning fear
Glazed on tattered wings of shredded feathers  
The hot slaughtered meat

Escape the toilet’s screaming
It needs
Exact
Change
The sink bedpan is overflowing with bleeding
Singing
Roses

Air is acid breakfast scented cereal *****

This film is bad it’s bad
It’s Nixon
Lenin
Jackie
Gein

EEEEEEEEEEE
A high pitched eerie screeching
Pitch shifted hymns echoing in Westminster

Your sister the spinster of my festering whisker!

Sacrifice your schedule to the great lord Day Plan
Burn the calendar
Burn the crying trees and their hair accessories

Tiny arms are sprouting from your fingers with their own tiny hands
Tiny arms from their fingers are growling with gushing stumps

A body within a body’s body
You are the human macrophage
Be a cannibal when you grow up

You realize your son isn’t yours
He’s the ******* of your rival pack
Become Cronos with radiant mane and the hairs of the velvet sun

Across the wood frame mirror
You see me smear
The graffiti crooked and huge black words
God is great
Get the pants
559 · Dec 2018
Ghetto
Youdont Needthis Dec 2018
To speak it in words
Is to soil its name with the flicking of human tongue
529 · Jan 2017
The Lunar Graves
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
I’m sitting in a lawn chair
At the edge of the moon’s well cratered chest
I’m facing a woman whose company is pricy and measured by rounded hours
She sits full lotus
Supple legs twist in a curving swirl
Seated on the glass surface of the coffee table
Young and slight enough to have no rational fear of it shattering beneath her

I ask to ask her something
She simpers
Anything
So I begin my slurred inquiry
If there was a God
And
And it told you that
Today was the day you would die
But it would spare you and let you live on well
Well
Into old age if you could give a good reason why
It should let you live then
What would your reason be
I belch a pig’s roar
What would your reason be

She simpers again
Ooooh **** that’s a good question
She toys with the starched mass of her hair
Flailing to be remembered by me and gain another loyal customer

I guess
I guess I’d say that I had a daughter and
Do
You have a daughter
She’s nineteen at the oldest
Yesss I do
I blink
What’s her name
Her name is Nelly
So
So you’d say you had a daughter and
And that she needs me
She loves me
I love her
I can’t leave her alone

In the center of the dark and lashed ellipses that halo her hazel eyes
I’m finally seeing a woman

She tilts her face
Her bangs silk to her jawbone
What would your reason be

I unscrew my flask

I wouldn’t give one
I deserve to die
However
Luckily for me
This life is unfair and unjust
In reality
You can plead to God all you want but even if it hears you
It won’t stop what it’s already made
And what it’s made is death

We’re both still facing each other
But we’re not looking at each other anymore
We’re both staring at space’s unfathomable darkness
The all consuming black

I know from where she is
She can see the Earth
She can see the spins of white puff
The emerald and umber chunks
The deep sapphire that coats the planet’s skin
Maybe she’s thinking of Nelly

From where I sit
All I can see are the tiny scabs of distant stars
Moth bites
In an all swallowing cloak

I check my watch
My current bill is approximately 1,600USD
I hear her voice
For the first time today
Her voice is genuine and entirely naked
Are you saying that God doesn’t save anyone

The weight of the knife in my pocket
Feels heavier than it should be
Especially here
The craters of the moon are yawning wide
They’ve always made perfect graves

I drink the last gulp of bourbon from my flask

Before I answer her
I wonder if her question is also asked by the others
The high piled and shallow buried
Crisscrossing one another
Overlapped like piles of pottery pieces
Or shards of shale
They lie
Trapped on the sun’s mirror
Lifelessly embracing and lying upon each other
Coincidently kissing each others wounds
Stuffed in the stony rings of the craters of the graying moon

Some I left floating in lakes
Both here
And back on Earth

Are they all wordlessly asking each other
Screaming through sunken faces
Won’t God save us
Doesn’t God save anyone

I toss my flask to the side
It takes forever to fall

Well
Charlotte
As far as I’m concerned
He hasn’t saved anyone yet
501 · Jan 2017
Field Hand Birth
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
A field hand birth in sandal feet
The afterbirth is ocean skies
She braces sternum abreast to me
The golden wheat and flies

Worms slither laced living
Within her locks
The holy realm
Her hips
A pelvis snapped will drool more blood
Than a thousand razored wrists

I supped of tears
I cupped
I drank
I grinned a hacksaw’s gleam
I undress myself
Till I am only bone
And bathe in sewer’s stream

Dream not of drunk
Dream just this birth
The golden wheat and flies
My daughter birthed from crumbling womb
Beneath these ocean skies

Ah
If only I had some blade
To cut her cord to she
I suppose the only shears I have
Are my spit shined pointed teeth
447 · Jan 2017
Essence
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
He exists in ****** duality
Dwelling in ******* lips and tongue
She is born of blackest dimension’s strum

When the rifle conquest bellows loud
And slaughter’s hum be murderous roar
It rivers in winding bends
Of purest human shale
The destroyer’s chorus in innocent’s wail
Clammy skin of mistresses pale

Chant in rounds this king curse brain
Her obsidian Charon
His violent game
It thousand claws
It needle veins
Sand drowning corpses in rotting flame
It eldest spirit from ancient plains
She blood unholy
He flesh unchained
Forever wholly thirst insane
Dismembering life
In nomine
Essence
Essence
Essence
414 · Jan 2017
The Spirit's Trilling
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Bornless
Ageless
Virtue
Spent

Crescent
Eye
******
Head

Ribs
Cou­ntless
Form
Dread

Scentless
Empty
Russet
Dress

Toast
Ashes
Blac­k
Dust

Flesh
Jam
Butter
Crunch

Auburn
Locks
Callous
Laugh

Lure­d
Bound
Body
Thrashed

Spirits
Furious
Corpse
Dragged

Fluids
Bot­tled
Sweetest
Drank

Eyeless
Lipless
Songs
Sang

Puppet
Strings
B­ody
Hangs
307 · Dec 2018
Hey, Y'all
Youdont Needthis Dec 2018
MK ULTRA IS REAL AND IS BEING USED ON ME
Thanks, this is nice
291 · Dec 2018
Woman, I may possibly be
Youdont Needthis Dec 2018
I'm too ****** up to go back
My brothers gotta come and save me
They gotta drive my car for me

I'm strobing in and out of consciousness
But it's still not as bad as getting knocked out in a fight
The nausea's not even as bad as the first time I stole whiskey
And vomited black chunks

I'm going to do this again
And things much worse afterwards

I'm hanging out the window
Slumped and rag-dolled
On my way to rent a tuxedo

I'm starting to figure out
What the chasms between me and you are made out of
Where the differences of deep values lie

I know why I can sleep right next to you and still be an infinity away
And no amount of drugs, drinks or ***** will ever rid me of it
249 · Dec 2018
50% OFF HOT GROUPON
Youdont Needthis Dec 2018
I'm here
To entertain
To play ukelele while
****** addicts in Prague score plump ***** poppies
Under a lazy summer sun
And their flirtations with death and their pursuit of high doses of deep oblivion
Are reduced to a journalist's article submission and the breathing, sweating, bleeding men and women are now
Still lights and colors in an image we can cast blank stares at
I play guitar
And the sound of riots that burned and looted chunks of Baltimore is now poignant accompaniement
For my dainty melodies
The hurling of insults, bottles and teargas
Are just the blazes of Rome for my fiddle
I'm here
As your fellow Rwandan and neighbor
to **** your daughter when our party has declared war upon yours
To chase you and your surviving family with machetes through the thick marshes that surround our farms
And then later mold that nightmarish scenery into a short video in which I
Beg you and the world for the sweet relief of forgiveness
In the background
I'll play a grand piano
I'm calling you
To perform my executive duty and express my heartfelt condolences for the death of your young husband
Whose name I've already forgotten and need to ask you for
Your reaction will be televised between toilet paper advertisements and blatant social conditioning

The pretty melody will continue throughout the daily openings of
Hands
arms
legs
eyes
mouths
cans
boxes
doors
gates
hearts
minds
And I'm not bitter or mad and I dont want you to be either
You think I'll leave you because a client got you pregnant but I wont
I'm here to take care of you in your 60usd hotel room when youre too sick to work
I'm still holding you tight after your close friend overdosed in the bathroom and died
I'm keeping my composure when the interviewer casually asks me if I hate everyone who doesn't look like me
I'm cheating all of my factory workers out of ever getting paid well
And then I'm sending them overseas to steal the jobs of college grads we hired
I'm being born while hundreds of people drown on the MS Estonia
And I'm dying from choking on a salty tortilla chip

Yet Still
The notes will calmly drift
Amidst the gunfire between rebels and regime in the rubble-laden deserts of Syria
Amidst the firm commands from Green Beret cadre to candidate in the lush woods of Camp Mackall
Through the inconviently fatal exit wounds in my teenaged chest
and the large caliber bullet holes in cheap beer cans I'm shooting for practice
I'm not telling you this so you can squeeze our experiences into a mondo film that ego-tripping critics will loathe
I just want you to not fixate so harshly on the particulars of how the codes you crack end someone's life on the other side of the world
And realize for a moment how many of your relationships are just thinly veiled plays made between you and your rut-enabling neuro transmitter dealer
I just want you to walk across this beautiful, extraordinary earth where giant beasts stomped and loving parents were murdered
Walk right over to where I am
And strum these strings
Entertain
While this world lives and breathes and pukes and cries and sings
99 · Nov 2020
Why
Youdont Needthis Nov 2020
Why
Bruh what the ****

— The End —