Monday, March 31, 2008

I SPEAK THE TRUTH: I AM GOD

I'M NOT DRUNK BUT I'M STARVING
FOR ME, IT'S THE SAME.

LISTEN
YOU CAN'T HEAR ME WHEN I'M SLEEPING.

I WILL WAIT FOR STEAK,
I AM FAITHFUL.

YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST.
TAKE NOTES.

WATCH OUT FOR CARS,
THAT CURB WILL TRIP YOU CONSCIOUSLY.

BOO HOO

I MADE MARIONETTES OUT OF MY MOST PAINFUL ANXIETIES AND FORCED THEM INTO WAR—
AND THEIR BLOOD FED THE EARTH'S SKIN AND GREW THE FIELD FOR THE NEXT WAR.
THEY WILL COME AGAIN IN DIFFERENT FORMS SAYING THE SAME THINGS.

Friday, March 28, 2008

BLUES SONG ABOUT ANTACIDS

MAYBE I CLENCH MY JAW WHEN I SLEEP OR THAT'S
IT, IT'S OVER, I'M OUT OF HERE. DON'T WORRY.
RIGHT NOW I AM HAVING BREATHING ISSUES AND
THE INTERNET HAS A LOT TO SAY ABOUT BREATHING.
LET'S SAY I HAVE A LOT TO DO BEFORE I'M 27 AND
DEAD. OF THOSE THINGS, WHICH SHOULD I DO FIRST?
USER GENERATED CONTENT IS NOT A WALL OUTLET.
I AM NOT AN ORANGE CORD. SHUT UP, PLATEFACE.
MY PARENTS DIDN'T LIKE IT WHEN I SAID "WELL,
27 IS IT FOR ME ANYWAY. NICK DRAKE, ETC."
PEAK OIL WILL PREVENT A "LONG HAPPY LIFE."
THERE IS A LONG-ISH HAIR ON MY MONITOR.
NO ONE WANTS A LECTURE ON RELATIVITY.
NO ONE WANTS TO SAP THE CARBONATION.
KENDRA, RELAX. I AM DRINKING VODKA AND
ORANGE JUICE. SOMEONE TELL ME TO RELAX
CORRECTLY, I.E. HELP. PARAPHRASING RBG:
"I WANT TO FIND OUT WHICH OF OUR FRIENDS
DIES FIRST, SO WE CAN ALL BE LESS GOOD
FRIENDS WITH THEM." YES, YES. I WANT TO
1) WRITE THIS RURAL INTERNET LIAR NOVEL.
2) RELEASE ONE FULL LENGTH BOOK OF
WHITE TRASH JOHN ASHBERY DOODLEFACE
POETRY. YOU'LL THANK ME LATER. "WOW,
ONE BOOK OF POETRY AND THEN HE DIES.
HMM. PUT THAT ON THE UGLY SIDE OF THE
"GOOFUS & GALLANT ROCK STAR EQUATION."
3) TOUR THE NATION ON THE MERITS OF
AN ALBUM I MAKE CALLED "ANYWAY, THE
RAIN CAME THROUGH LIKE A HITCHHIKER."
I HAVE NOT DONE ANY OF THESE THINGS
YET. THAT IS WHAT'S CALLED AN OPTIMISTIC
LINE BREAK STRATEGY. THIS IS WHAT'S
OVERTURNED, UNHUSHED, BELLY FAZED.
I TURN MY ENTIRE LIFE OVER TO BARR,
THE BAND. PLEASE CONTINUE WHAT YOU
STOPPED A LONG TIME AGO FOR NO GOOD
REASON AND TRY IN THE FASHION CALLED
HARDER. DON'T ASK ME WHY THEY CALL
YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PARTY WITH
WEIRD REQUESTS LIKE: "PLEASE COME TO
MASSACHUSETTS, CRAWL IN MY CHEST,
GIVE ME A FREE BREATHING LESSON."

AM I ALLOWED TO WISH TO BE A LUMINARY?

AM I ALLOWED TO WISH TO BE A LUMINARY?
"I WISH I WAS A LUMINARY." I WISH I WAS
A BIT OF TELLURIDE DUCT WORK. I WISH THAT
SO MUCH. WHAT DO YOU NEED THESE DIMENSIONS
FOR AGAIN? WHAT DO YOU MEAN? "BAR CODE IT?"
IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE PARALLEL LINES TO ME, IT
LOOKS MORE LIKE A HUMAN SHAPED NUMBER. 3?
CRANES FAIL, OKAY, CRANES. THIS RETROFIT
WILL NOT WORK FOR ALL YOUR PRODUCTS BECAUSE
YOU YOURSELF ARE OLD AND COULD USE A RETROFIT.
COULDN'T YOU? THE LINES ON THE HIGHWAY NUMBER
IN THE THOUSANDS NOWADAYS, I'M SURE OF IT. WE'D
ALL LIKE TO GET YOUR AUTOGRAPH, YOU BEAUTIFUL MAN.
I THINK WE ARE ALL IN AGREEMENT HERE. THESE THINGS
ARE SUCKING THE WORTH OUT OF ME. BECAUSE OF YOU I
AM NOW SHRINK WRAPPING THE NOTES I SEND. I AM
CONFORMING TO YOUR STANDARDIZED SHIPPING METHODS.
SEE? A THOUSAND NOTES THAT SAY WILL YOU MARRY ME
YES NO AND THEY EVEN HAVE THE PROPER CODES.
WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?

Thursday, March 27, 2008

PLASTIC

WASH YOU HANDS
AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH
AND WIPE YOUR SHOES
AND FLOSS
AND GET A CHECKUP
AND GETTING SOMETHING FIXED
AND RENEWED
AND RETURNED
AND REDONE.
MAKE A SITUATION 'BETTER'
WHILE FEELING A SENSE
OF 'GROWTH' WHILE
ENGAGING IN 'GOOD'
SOCIAL INTERACTIONS
WITH OTHERS TO MAKE
IT SEEM LIKE 'THE PATH'
IS FILLING US WITH SOME
'SENSE OF SELF WORTH'.
RUN INSTEAD OF WALK.
SEE GREEN INSTEAD OF RED.
ANSWER YOUR TELEPHONE
AND HEAR STATIC.
ANSWER YOUR TELEPHONE
AND HEAR SOMETHING
THAT SOUNDS LIKE STATIC.
HANG UP THE RECIEVER AND
MAKE YOURSELF
SOMETHING
TO
EAT.
CLEAN YOUR DISHES
WITH SOAP AND DRY
YOUR HANDS WITH A TOWEL
OR RAG.
CLEAN YOUR CLOTHES.
CLEAN THEM AGAIN.
THEN AGAIN.
THEN BUY NEW CLOTHES.
CLEAN THEM BEFORE YOU WEAR THEM.
OR DON'T.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

THINGS WHICH CAUSE MINIATURE FEELINGS OF SADNESS (MAYBE DUE TO 'SENTIMENTALITY' (I HAVE NO IDEA)):

ANYTHING LEFT IN THE ROAD
THE BIT OFF THE TOP OF AN APPLE JUICE CARTON
ANYTHING 'EXEMPT'
THE FACEBOOK MESSAGE: "HI CHRIS, HOW IS MANCHESTER? WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO FOR A COFFEE SOMETIME, THE NEXT TIME I'M UP?"
OLD PEOPLE
THE POST OFFICE
WALKING AROUND
EXPIRED EMAIL CORRESPONDENCES
ANY TELEPHONE CONVERSATION AFTER 1AM
THE WEATHER
MY FACE
SICK OR DYING ANIMALS IN PUBLIC PLACES
THE FUTURE
OTHER THINGS

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

HOUNDSTOOTH

IF HOUNDSTOOTH WILL SAVE MY SOUL
THEN EVERYWHERE I WILL I PLACE M Y SOUL

HOUNDSTOOTH IS THE UNIVERSAL
TOUCHER OF FASHION

LET'S DO IT ON THE ROOF OF A TWILL BUILDING

THAT WILL NEVER ASK YOU QUESTIONS

THAT WILL PUT ITS ASS BETWEEN YOU ASS

I WROTE THIS POEM WHILE DRUNK IN CLASS

FUCK YOU

FASHION IS FOR BANDS

AND SHIT

WHAT BUT WHY (AND JOE JUST TYPED THE WORD "SUFFER")

SOMETIMES I WANT TO KNOW WHAT MY BODY WOULD LOOK LIKE
IF MY BODY WERE TORN APART ON THE ROOF OF A BUILDING
AND THE ROOF OF A BUILDING WERE MADE OUT OF MY BODY

I WANT TO LOVE SOMEONE THE WAY THAT I LOVE SOMEONE
I WANT SOMEONE TO LOVE ME THE WAY THAT I LOVE ME

I WANT TO TOUCH MY BODY TO THE WORLD
I WANT THE WORLD TO TOUCH ITS BODY
TO MY BODY

PLEASE TELL ME SOMETHING WILL HAPPEN BEFORE I DIE
OR SOMETHING WILL HAPPEN
OR I WILL DIE
AND I WILL DIE
BUT I WILL DIE

DRUNK IN CLASS

I SAID SOMETHING AND THE PROFESSOR ACCEPTED IT
I FEEL THE WORLD DOESN'T KNOW WHAT IT'S DOING

ME AND JOE WALSH GOT DRUNK ON EXPENSIVE BEER
WE ARE READY TO START SHIT NOW

THIS CLASS FUCKING SUCKS

WE JUST WANT GRADUATE

Sunday, March 23, 2008

630 915 0509

GRAFT YOUR BIGGEST VEIN TO ME AND MAKE ME WARM.
WITHOUT YOU, I AM A POINTLESS AND UNILATERAL ENEMY.
NO COMPASSION. NO ROMANCE.
OPINION CONDOM.

BE THANKLESS

I WANT TO COLLECT ALL THE PAPER MONEY IN THE WORLD
AND ATTACH A WASP TO EACH BILL
AND LIGHT EACH BILL ON FIRE
THEN SEND THE WASPS INTO THE SKY--
WATCH THE SKY HOST THE STROBE
OF MILLIONS OF LIVING LANTERNS.

YOUR FACE IS THE PERFECT CLOTHING FOR MY FACE.

YOU WILL BECOME THE PEOPLE YOU HATE.
YOU WILL REMEMBER THEM BY BECOMING THEM.
THEIR FACES ARE LITTLE SHIELDS THAT PREVENT EVERYONE ELSE FROM BECOMING IMPORTANT TO YOU.

THE WEIGHT OF MY BODY CORRESPONDS TO THE TIME I HAVE SPENT ALONE.

I MATE WITH EVERYTHING AROUND ME.
THE MATING IS LOUD AND BLOOD BECOMES OF IT.
I PEEL THE HALF-DRIED MAROON SHELLS OF BLOOD OUT OF MY PUBIC HAIRS.

I AM A BEE LOST IN YOUR BRAIN. BUT I AM
NOT LOOKING FOR ANYTHING.
I AM HERE TO LAND AND LOOK AROUND, AND FLY AWAY.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

BOIL

SHIT SHIFTED
AND LEFT UNDONE.
WALLOPED IN THE FACE
WITH A BAT MADE
OF RUBBER
THAT BOUNCES OFF ME
INTO YOU.
I CLICKED ON THE RED
X AND CLOSED
OUR LIVES
AND TENDENCIES
AND REOPENED A TAB
WHICH HELD OUR
OBSESSIVE DREAMS
TO BECOME A
DIFFERENT PERSON.
A BLUE MARKER
STAINED BLACK WITH
A PAGE SOAKED IN A
SHARPIE.
LOOK AT YOURSELF
IN THE MIRROR.
DON'T TRY TO PRETEND
TO SEE SOMETHING
THAT YOU DON'T.
TAKE A
LONG HARD GLANCE.
THAT IS YOU.
YOU ARE A REFLECTION.
YOU ARE A REFLECTION
OF AN ENCOUNTER
SPREAD OVER A LONG
AMOUNT OF TIME.
PICKED AND PRODDED.
PULLED AND POKED.
WELCOME TO YOUR LIFE.

DO I HAVE THE MTV VERSION

DO I HAVE THE MTV VERSION
OF LONELINESS, YOU KNOW,
AM I ALL "THAT'S BEAUTIFUL?"

I WILL DESTROY MY,
WILL GRAPPLE WITH MY
SWEATY AND TOOTHY HUMANITY.

I AM NOW THINKING ABOUT
PLEATS IN MY PANTS AND
HOW I DO NOT LIKE THEM.

DO I HAVE TO STRUGGLE
AGAINST MY PLEATS OR
DO I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT

THAT. I GUESS MY SENSE
OF TIME IS LIKE BUNCHED
UP SOCKS OR LIKE BUNGLED

DREAMS. LIKE SWAMP COOLERS.
LIKE BLOODY DOGS ON AUGUST
ROADS. LIKE FILAMENTS. LIKE LOVE.

DOES THE GURGLE IN MY THROAT,
THE GURGLE JUST NOW IN MY
HEAD, DOES IT GIVE AND GIVE?

SING ME THE SUPER SAD SONG

IM READY FOR
THE SUPER SAD SONG
STOP PREFACING IT
LOVE
STOP TELLING ME
HOW SAD THINGS MIGHT
BE

DRINK YOUR DRINK
BEFORE
YOU SING TO ME
THE SUPER SAD SONG
LOVE
MAKE IT A LITTLE
LESS
SAD FOR YOURSELF

GO ON
TRY TO MAKE ME SAD
WITH YOUR SUPER SAD SONG
IF YOU CAN PLAY
IT RIGHT

YOUR
SONG
COULD NOT BE
AS SAD
AS MY LOVE
WHO NEVER KNEW ANY
BETTER

YOU
AND EVERYONE
COULD NOT BE AS SAD
AS JUAN PEDRO
MY LOVE

HOW COULD IT BE
SO SAD
IF YOU CAN
SING
AND MAKE IT
SOUND SO LOVELY?

PLAY THE GUITAR THAT FUNNY WAY YOU DO

YOU CAN SIT
ON THE END OF MY BED
PLAYING YOUR GUITAR
IN THAT FUNNY WAY
THAT YOU DO

YOU CAN SING TO ME
AND MAKE THOSE FUNNY
FACES
YOU MAKE
WHEN YOU REALIZE IM
WATCHING YOU

I CAN WATCH YOU
SMOKING ON MY BED
WITH MY VODKA
SING TO ME
ABOUT YOUR OLD FLAMES

AND I CAN FEEL
INADEQUATE
AND UGLY
BUT ITS A NICE FEELING
I PROMISE
I HAVE NO REASON TO
LIE TO YOU

YOU JUST READ
MY JOURNAL
DIDNT YOU?
YOU KNOW WHATS
HAPPENING
AND THAT IT IS ALMOST TIME
FOR BED

Sunday, March 16, 2008

SPOON ME TO SLEEP, I AM FIXATED ON THIS TONIGHT

I DONT KNOW
WHAT TO TELL YOU
THAT I HAVENT ALREADY
FUCKING TOLD YOU

COME HERE YOU
COME HERE
ROLL OVER
ON YOUR SIDE
LET MY BELLY
TOUCH YOUR BACK
LET MY ARM
SLIP AROUND YOUR WAIST

LET ME TELL YOU
IN WHISPERS
IN FRENCH
ABOUT HOW
I HATE BEING ALIVE

BUT YOU ARE STUPID
AND DO NOT
UNDERSTAND FRENCH
YOU THINK
THIS IS SWEETNESS

Thursday, March 13, 2008

YOU DON'T KNOW A CLARINET

YOU DON'T KNOW A CLARINET
FROM A CALLIOPE, DO YOU?
WATER UNDER RAILROAD
TRUSSES LET'S ALL PAINT
THE WATER TOWER.

YOU WOULDN'T RECOGNIZE ME
NOW. I'M 7 FOOT 8 AND SHAPED
LIKE A NIRVANA SONG ALL
REEDY AND BUNCHED UP ALL
GREASY AND BULLETPROOF.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS LIKE A HAREM
OF HORNET HOOKERS. THAT'S OKAY
THOUGH BECAUSE NOBODY EVER
KNOWS WHAT ANYONE IS SAYING
AND NO MATTER HOW MUCH I WANT
TO HAVE YOUR BRAIN SHARING A
BODY WITH ME IT SIMPLY WILL NOT
BE POSSIBLE THIS WEEK.

I AM DRUNK OFF EXCESS FOOD

NEW YORK STEAK WITH CRACKED BLACK PEPPER
MASHED POTATOES WITH SKINS
COTTON CANDY
WHIP CREAM
BROWNIES
WATER
CORN
STRAWBERRIES
BANANAS
CHOCOLATE SAUCE
CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
I AM FULL OF
I AM FULL OF
I SLUR MY WORDS WHEN I'M FULL
I FEEL DRUNK OFF CALORIES
THERE WAS A WAITRESS
WE FLIRTED WITH LANGUAGE AND EYES
SOMEONE TURNED TO ME AND SAID 'YOU'RE GOING TO'
AND THEN I HEARD 'SLEEP WITH HER' SECONDS LATER
MASSIVE SUGAR CRASH
SLEEP COMA
FOOD INDUCED SLEEP SUGAR CRASH
THE WAITRESS WAS ATTRACTIVE TO THE TABLE
AS WAS CORN AND BISCUITS
HONEY
BUTTER
KNIVES WEREN'T EATEN
PLEASE STOP TAKING MY PLATE AWAY
WORDS, 'MAGNUM CONDOMS'
ZAGAT DIDN'T RATE MY MEAL
PLEASE STOP FOODING MY MEAL AND SUGAR CRASHING
HONEY SUGAR CRASH
TIRED AND DRUNK
CALORIE KAMIKAZE

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

OF COURSE YOU ARE A SAIGON MAZE

OF COURSE YOU ARE A SAIGON MAZE
YOU ARE A DIFFERENT WAY AROUND
THIS LION DEN OF A LIFE. YOU
ARE A SNOWMAN'S PROMISE IN
JANUARY. YOU ARE A FOREIGN
VERSION OF A POPULAR REALITY
TELEVISION SHOW THAT INVOLVES
KALEIDOSCOPES AND SOAPY DIPSHITS.

THERE ARE NO REASONS TO LIGHT
CANDLES IN THE FUCKING OFFICE
YOU'LL FUCKING LIGHT MY VENDORS
ON FIRE. THERE ARE NO REASONS
TO CHECK INTO A HOTEL ROOM AND
NOT TELL ANYONE. I SUPPOSE TO
YOU I AM AN OLD VERSION OF A
MICROSOFT WINDOWS 3.0 GAME
OF MINESWEEPER. AND YOU WOULD
BE RIGHT TO ASSUME THAT IS TRUE.

THIS WHOLE THING IS ABOUT THE
PROPER WAY TO WELCOME BACK ALL
THE WOUNDED SOLDIERS FROM ANY
FOREIGN WAR OR ANY OTHER THING
THAT INVOLVES FLYING PROJECTILES.

AFTER HOURS

I DON'T WANT TO
DEMAND THE UNITY OF
THIS IN ORDER TO EXIST
IN THIS WELL OF PUTRID SHIT
BECAUSE IT'S TOO TIRING
TO FIGURE OUT
HOW TO PULL UP THE
ROPE FOR ANOTHER SIP.
YOU CANNOT TRY TO
'LOVE' SOMETHING
HALFHEARTEDLY.
THE LIVES OF OTHERS WILL ALWAYS
ESCAPE US.
WE ESCAPE THEM TOO.
THE FORM IS UNREACHABLE
TO US, THE FOOLISH.
SO WE KEEP SPEAKING THE
ONLY FUCKING LANGUAGE WE KNOW.
PURSUING OUR 'DESTINIES'
TO THE BITTER END.
EATING A MOUTHFUL OF SAND
IN A DRY DESERT IN HOPES OF
A MIRAGE WITH A FLASK
OF WATER IN OUR BACK POCKETS.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

THE HARD PART IS, ITS SO HARD TO SURVIVE

YOUR LEFT HAND
IS SO SMALL

"MAKING A MARK IS THE MOST IMMEDIATE THING"

IT IS ATROPHIED FROM
NEGLECT

I INTEND ON
GOING TO BED WITH IT

"ISN'T IT WILD WHAT YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING
TO BE WHEN YOU'RE 18?"

"I WAS STUPID. I TOOK MY SLIDES IN
OVER A MONTH OVER THE DEADLINE"

GO TO BED LOVE
YOU WORK TOO HARD

BREAK YOUR EMBRYO & DRINK IT

I PUSHED YOUR FACE INTO THE COARSE FABRIC OF THE COUCH
& SAID ‘I LOVE YOU.’

YOU LOOKED ONE-DAY DEAD. YOU SMELLED NEWBORN.

WE BLENDED CELLS THEN ENDED.

I FORECFED YOU SMEGMA WITH MY FINGERNAIL &
WE SAT NAKED ON THE TILE FLOOR—
CAREFULLY AVOIDING EVERY EMOTION.

WE BECAME NORMAL AGAIN.

I WAS AFRAID TO SLEEP BECAUSE MY DREAMS USUALLY REPLICATE CONSCIOUS LIFE.

I LOOKED AT YOU & THOUGHT:

EVERYONE HATES YOU & IT IS PERPETUAL DAY.

EVERYONE HATES YOU.

IT IS PERPETUAL DAY.

EVERYONE HATES YOU.

EVERYONE HATES YOU DURING PERPETUAL DAY.

IT IS PERPETUAL DAY & EVERYONE HATES YOU.
IT IS PERPETUAL DAY & EVERYONE HATES YOU TODAY.

DON’T BE AFRAID OF SLEEP.
CAREFULLY AVOID EVERY EMOTION.

IT IS TODAY & EVERYONE HATES YOU.
IT IS TODAY & EVERYONE HATES YOU TODAY.

IT IS PERPETUAL DAY.

IF YOU KILL ME—I PROMISE I WON’T TELL.

GANGBANG POEM, WRITTEN BY A BUNCH OF DIFFERENT PEOPLE (EDITED BY SAM PINK)

ASS

FACE

ASS

FACE
ASS

FACE ASS

FACE
ASS

ASS HELMET
ON A HANDSOME DEAD PERSON
SIDECAR
SIDECAR
RED HEMOGLOBIN
BLINK AND MENACE RED
A HANDSOME DEAD PERSON ON ORANGE VINYL

MANGE OF WOMEN
'BAD TIMES’ WITH GENTLENESS AND A THUMBTACK.
I CAME MY CURLED FISH ON HER MAROON CASHMERE
IN ITS MAROON MEADOW—
I AVALANCHED HER MANGE.

HANDS LOVE ARMS.
SHOULDERS LOVE SPINE.
BRAIN LOVE SKULL.
I LOVE ANAL FISSURES.

PURPLE-GREEN STROBE OF FAKE LIGHT
&
YESTERDAY I ACTED LIKE THE LIGHTBULB IN MY ROOM WAS THE SUN.

Monday, March 10, 2008

EYES CLOSED DRUNK.

THE SKY HAS FALLEN ON TOP OF MY FACE AND I AM COVERED BY GRAY CLOUDS OPENING UP TO A SEA OF GACK FROM NICKOLEDEAN WITH JOHN SUMMERS.
HE IS LAUGHING AND THROWING UP INTO A BARREELL AND WEIGHING IT ON TOP OF A LARGE FAT WOMAN FROM KANSAS.
I CAN IMAGINE HER DANGLING A HOTDOG IN FRONT OF HER PREGNANT STOMACH AND SNORTING A RAIL OF CLEAN CUT COCAIN UNDERNEATH A DIM LITE ROOM WITH A FOREST WALLPAPER.
THERES A CARNIAVAL INSIDE OF MY BRAIN AND WHEN YOU SLICE IT UP BAMBII STORMS OUT OF IT LIMPING AND SMOKIING A CIGAR PROCLAIMING THAT JESUS HAD RODE HIS BACK THROUGH FLAMES FUELED BY RAT POISIN.
THERE IS A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET CFROM MY HOUSE.
THERE IS A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY HOUSE.
THERE IS A CHURCH ACROSS THE STREET FROM MY HOUSE.
I WANT TO BURN IT DOWN AND PUT IN A WATER PARK.
I WANT TO STOP TIME AND STAND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN.

Sunday, March 9, 2008

HER BODY LOOKS JUST LIKE MINE BUT SMALLER BUT WHEN I WATCH MY LITTLE LOVE I FEEL LIKE IM SEEING SOMETHING LIKE A MURDER SCENE

NICOLE
I LOVE NICOLE
SHE UNDERSTANDS
MANY THINGS
I UNDERSTAND

I WATCHED HER DANCE
LAST NIGHT
I DANCED WITH HER
SHE HAD
COCAIN STILL
RIMING HER NOSE

I HELD
THE BACK OF
HER VERY SMALL
NECK WHILE
WE DANCED
WITH A GIRL
BETWEEN US

HE DANCED WITH ME
THIS KID
HE PULLED ME AWAY
I WAS FLUID
I COULD NOT
FIGHT
THE COCAIN
WAS MOVING DOWN
THE BACK OF MY THROAT

I PEERED OVER
HIS FUCKING SHOULDER
AND SAW
NICOLE
DANCING
FREAKING OUT
SCREAMING
"I LOVE THE ROLLING STONES!"

"YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL"
HE SAID
I WAS WATCHING NICOLE
DANCE ALONE
STONED

NICOLE,
MY LITTLE LOVE
YOU ARE SO TINY
AND
I CANT STAND
BEING ALIVE ANYMORE
WHEN I SEE YOU
DANCE

CALIFORNIA
CANT EVER
HAVE YOU BACK
NO NEVER
I WILL KEEP YOU
DANCING
STONED
TO THE STONES

HAS ANYONE EVER TOLD YOU THAT YOUR VOICE SOUNDS QUITE SLEEPY OVER THE PHONE?

I JUST HEARD YOUR VOICE
IN A RECORDING
YESTERDAY
I LOST MY PHONE
IT HAD
MAYBE HUNDREDS
OF PICTURES YOU
USED TO SEND ME
I WAS VERY SAD
AND LONELY THEN

I DONT LOOK AT
THE PICTURES ANYMORE
BUT WHEN I
REALIZED THEY WERE GONE
I WAS UPSET
NOT ABOUT THE PHONE
OR HAVING TO BUY A
NEW ONE
OR LOSING
THE CONTACT INFORMATION
FOR POSSIBLE FUTURE
ONE NIGHT STANDS
I WAS UPSET
ABOUT LOOSING
THE DOCUMENTS
OF THAT PERIOD
OF MY LIFE
YOUR FACE
BURIED IN A PILLOW

THE RECORDING
IT REMINDED ME
OF BEING NEW HERE
HAVING NO FRIENDS
AND FEELING ANXIOUS
AND SCARED EVERYDAY
WHEN WE WOULD TALK
ON THE PHONE
FOR HOURS
I DONT EVEN REMEMBER
WHAT WE TALKED ABOUT
FOR SO LONG
EVERY NIGHT

I DO REMEMBER
THAT I FELT
LESS AFRAID
AND COMFORTED
KNOWING SOMEONE
KNEW HOW
AFRAID I WAS
LISTENING TO
THAT SLEEPY WAVERING
VOICE ON THE PHONE

ONCE
I SAW SOMEONE
DIE IN A HORRIBLE BLOODY WAY
ON MY FRONT STOOP
AND I TOLD YOU
HOW AFRAID I WAS
TO EXIST IN THE
TINY APARTMENT
IN THE PROJECTS
AND YOU TOLD ME
RUN,
JUST START RUNNING
AND I DID
I RAN
AND THEN WROTE YOU
A LETTER
DO YOU STILL HAVE THAT LETTER?
I HAVE YOURS

IRATE WOMEN

I HAVE THIS PRETTY
LITTLE FRIEND
SHE HAS A HARD TIME
FROM DAY TO DAY
SHE FEELS HURT
AND CONFUSED OFTEN
SHE LIVED THROUGH
A FEW FUCKED UP
EXPERIENCES
AND I NEVER MINDED
HELPING
RELIEVING HER RAGE

OFTEN
SHE BECOMES IRRATIONALLY
IRATE,
WE WOULD TALK
AND BE CALMER
TOGETHER,
WE ANALYZED
HOW SHE FELT

MY PRETTY FRIEND
HAS TAKEN IT UPON HERSELF
TO NOW
LASH OUT AT ME
RATHER IRRATIONALLY
WHICH IS FINE
I AM USED TO THIS BEHAVIOR
FROM THE WOMEN IN
MY LIFE
IT WILL PASS

IT DOES
MAKE ME THINK
OF WHEN AS
A CHILD
MY MOTHER
WOULD GET UPSET
AND SCREAM AND WAIL
AND ON HER WAY OUT THE DOOR
SHE WOULD HOLD ME
AND SAY
"IM NOT COMING BACK"
SHE WOULD THEN
DRIVE AROUND THE BLOCK
AND COME HOME
AND GO TO BED
WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING

I REMEMBER
STANDING JUST WHERE
I WAS
WHEN SHE TOLD ME THAT
AND I CONVINCED MYSELF
THAT IF I DIDN'T MOVE
SHE WOULD RETURN HOME
AND EVERY TIME
WHEN SHE DID
I KNEW IT WAS MY
PATIENCE AND
PHYSICAL DISCOMFORT THAT
MADE IT HAPPEN

Saturday, March 8, 2008

IN THE SHOWER TODAY I THOUGHT ABOUT MUDERING A POLICEMAN WHILE SINGING THE MR BELVEDERE THEME SONG

I WANT TO BE REINCARNATED AS A LARGE HILL
UPON WHICH SOMEONE YOU LOVE LOSES THEIR BREATH AND DIES--
FACE-DOWN STRANGLED WITH GRIEF.

Friday, March 7, 2008

...

I CAN'T IMAGINE HOW
MANY ABSURD LIVES
HAVE BEEN LIVED BEFORE ME.
HOW MANY PEOPLE KNOWINGLY
HAVE PUT THEMSELVES
THROUGH MADNESS,
ONLY TO TRY TO SURVIVE
IN THE MADNESS WHICH
IS EVERYDAY LIFE.
JUST TO HAVE SOME
COMFORTABILITY
WITHOUT GOING
COMPLETELY INSANE.
SO MANY SMALL HEROES
HAVE DIED OFF.
SO MANY NAMES WE WILL
NEVER KNOW.
I WANT TO MEET THESE
PEOPLE AND ASK THEM
HOW THEY MADE IT
SO FAR.
BECAUSE THINGS ARE HARD.
OH YES.
CONSTANTLY.
I AWAKE TO THE SAME DAY
EVERY TIME I WAKE UP.
I WALK AWAY FROM THE
SAME FRIENDS I MET WHEN
I WAS YOUNGER
EVERY YEAR.
ALL WITH THE SAME TENDENCIES.
THEY KEEP INVOLVING
THEMSELVES INTO MY LIFE
AND THEN LEAVING WITHOUT
A TRACE.
I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN
TAKE MUCH MORE
OF THIS SHIT.
I KNOW THESE SAME
OCCURRENCES WILL
BE HAPPENING AS LONG
AS I AM ALIVE.
AND I WILL BECOME MORE
AND MORE
AWARE OF THEM
AS I GET
OLDER.

Monday, March 3, 2008

MY SWEET LORD (DOODA LANG DOODA LANG)

I AM DRUNK ON BOREDOM.
NATE IS COMPLAINING ABOUT HIS
WIFE, HER LAUNDRY SKILLS AND
LACK OF LAUNDRY SKILLS. HE
RAPES YOUNG MINDS. JUST
KIDDING ABOUT RAPE. HE LIKES
ARGUMENTS, EGG SANDWICHES.
PROBABLY OTHER SHIT. I AM SO
NOT SEWING RIGHT NOW. SEWING
EWW! I AM REALLY BORED. I AM
BORED, REALLY. HENK IS NOT A
SURFER, LIKE YOU ORIGINALLY
GUESSED LAME-ASS SMOOCH TARD.
HENK IS FROM SOUTH AFRICA.
HE ADMIRES MY CLOTHING.
MY BOOT BUCKLES AND
THRIFT STORE TROUSERS.
LET'S HAVE AN EGG SANDWICH,
READER. I WILL SNEAK UP AND
BORE YOU TO DEATH WITH A
DRILL AND SELL YOU AT A
THRIFT STORE FOR HENK TO
BUY IN SOUTH AFRICA AND
CLEAN, LATER, AS NATE'S
LOVING COMMUNIST SLUT.

P.S. JUST KIDDING HENK. WE LOVE YOU.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

BUTTHOLE BAILEY'S DIGNIFIED RESPONSE TO THE LITERARY FEUD WITH SAM PINK

I AM GOING TO SMOKE AN ENTIRE BOX OF CRAYONS
AND THEN BLOW COLORS AT YOUR FACE
UNTIL THEY MELT ONTO YOUR SKIN

THAT IS THE PLAYFUL IMAGE I WILL START WITH

THEN I WILL WRITE ANOTHER LINE

THIS LINE INVOLVES DANIEL BAILEY SNORTING A DESERT OF COKE
AND THEN PUKING IT ALL OVER SAM PINK'S LAP
AND THEN CURLING UP BESIDE HIM AND EXPLODING
YOUR LEGS WILL LOOK LIKE THEY DISSOLVED
IN THE EXPLOSION

THEN THERE WILL BE A STANZA
WHERE I GET MY GIRLFRIEND DRUNK
AND LET HER BREAK SOMETHING IN YOUR HOUSE

THERE WILL BE A LONG SECTION
WHERE I LIST THE BONES OF THE HUMAN BODY
SAM PINK'S HUMAN BODY
THAT I WILL USE TO MAKE A BONE FENCE
TO CONTAIN MY BONE MICE
THIS WILL BE ACHIEVED THROUGH ADVANCED BLOGGING TECHNOLOGY

THEN YOUR SKIN
THIS STANZA WILL BE PASTORAL POETRY
I WILL USE YOUR SKIN TO MAKE A KITE
I WILL FLY YOUR SKIN HIGH ABOVE A PASTURE
THE COWS WILL SAY WHAT IS THAT
I WILL SAY IT IS SAM PINK
I HAVE SLAUGHTERED HIM IN A LITERARY FEUD
THE COWS WILL LOOK UP THE WORD SLAUGHTER
USING THE DICTIONARY WIDGET
ON THE DASHBOARD OF THEIR MACBOOKS
AND FEEL AFRAID

I DONT TRUST ANY OF YOU

STOP CALLING ME
MATERNAL
I DONT WANT KIDS
I DONT WANT TO
MOTHER ANYONE
ANYMORE
I HATE HOW
OFTEN MY FRIENDS
CALL ME MATERNAL
WHAT IT MEANS, REALLY
IS THEY APPRECIATE
HOW I LISTEN TO THEIR
PROBLEMS
AND DONT RESPOND
WITH A CONFESSION OF
MY OWN
WELL,
THAT HAS NOTHING TO
DO WITH MATERNITY
I JUST DONT TRUST YOU
ANY OF YOU
OH FUCK
SOMEONE JUST POKED
THEIR HEAD OUT OF
MY ROOM
AND ASKED FOR
A GLASS OF MILK
AND I RAN
TO GET IT
FOR THEM
AND I SMILED WHILE
HE DRANK IT
I AM FUCKED
I AM FUCKED
I AM FUCKED

NOTHING IS WORTH IT

LA LA LA
LA LA LA
LA LA LA
SHIT
I LOVE YOU

WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG YOU GET MAD

TONIGHT I WALKED 4 BLOCKS FROM MY HOUSE.
I ENDED UP AT HAIGHT STREET.
HAIGHT AND FILLMORE.
THERE ARE AT LEAST 6 BARS AND 6 PLACES OR MORE
TO EAT IN THE VICINITY.
THERE WAS AN ART OPENING TOO.
MY FRIEND INTRODUCED HIMSELF
TO THE OWNER OF THE PLACE
AND SHOOK HANDS WITH HIM.
10 MINUTES LATER THE OWNER
SHOOK HANDS WITH MY FRIEND
AND INTRODUCED HIMSELF AGAIN.
HE EVEN SHOOK HANDS THIS TIME.
HE WAS DRUNK!
I'M DRUNK!
IM SITTING ON A SEAT THAT SHOULD
BE A FOOT REST TYPING ON A BLACK
CARPET ON A WHITE
CARPETED FLOOR.
I'M WEARING JEANS AND NIKE CORTEZ'S.
I'M WEARING A COLLARED SHIRT.
IT'S BROWN, GREEN, AND WHITE.
IF THIS ISN'T DRUNK
BLOGGING I DON'T
KNOW WHAT IS.
I'M REALLY TIRED OF THE
SAME WRITERS COPYING
EACH OTHER.
IT'S REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING.
I KNOW I'M DOING IT RIGHT NOW
BY
MY
LINE
BREAKS.
MY EMOTIONS
BECOME OVERWHELMED.
THIS BLOG USED TO BE POPULAR.
NOW IT SUCKS.
SO DOES MY BLOG.
AND I DON'T CARE.
I WORK EVERYDAY NOW.
HUSTLE.
IF ANYONE WANTS TO KNOW
HOW TO SUCCEED MY ANSWER
WOULD BE TO
HUSTLE.
THAT'S THE ONLY WAY YOU'RE
GOING TO MAKE IT.
PRACTICE AND HUSTLE.
THIS POST IS THE GREATEST
POST EVER.
AND IT'S SO LONG TOO.
I'M LIKE SAM PINK.
SAM.
YOU HAVE SOME GREAT LINES
BUT MOST OF THEM FUCKING
SUCK MY ASS OF OF ITSELF.
IT'S THE SAME BORING SHIT.
YOU HAVE BECOME
CLICHE IN YOUR WRITING.
YOU MADE IT.
THE REST OF YOU
JUST COPY EACH OTHER.
THE ONLY TWO THAT
ARE WORTH A SHIT
ARE KENDRA AND DANIEL.
THEY STARTED THIS
WHOLE FUCKING THING.
THEN SUDDENLY IT EXPLODED.
I'M NOT EVEN WORTHY TO
BE WRITING HERE.
NEITHER IS TAO.
SINCE TAO IS PUBLISHED IN
A LOT OF PLACES
HE IS SUPPOSED TO
BE 'BETTER' THAN ME
AT WRITING.
YUP.
THERE IS A MAN.
HE DRANK SOME COKE.
THEN HE WENT TO THE LIQUOR STORE
AND BOUGHT SOME BOOZE AND PORN.
HE SAT ALONE IN HIS LIVING
ROOM DRINKING AND LOOKING THROUGH
DIRTY MAGAZINES.
HE MASTURBATED FOR 10 MINUTES
THEN WENT TO SLEEP ON HIS COUCH.
WHEN HE WENT TO SLEEP HE WAS ALONE.
WHEN HE WOKE UP HE WAS ALONE.
HE TOOK A MORNING SHIT ALONE.
AND A SHOWER.
HE USED AXE BODY SPRAY BECAUSE
HE THOUGHT HE WOULD GET THE LADIES.
WORDS WORDS WORDS.
OKAY/

Saturday, March 1, 2008

PLAYING HARMONICAS

LAYING ON THE FLOOR
TOGETHER
PLAYING TWO
HARMONICAS
TOGETHER
THANK YOU
FOR TEACHING ME
HOW TO
PLAY
SO WE CAN
PLAY TOGETHER
LOOKING AT
EACH OTHER
PLAYING PLAYING
MAKING SOUNDS
STARING
AT EACH OTHERS
FACE
THE SOUNDS
THEY ARE HORRIBLE
AND OFF KEY
BUT YOUR FACE
IS YOUNG
AND DARLING
I SUPPOSE I WOULDN'T MIND
SITTING ON IT
OR MAYBE
IT WOULD BE NICER
TO LAY
ON THE FLOOR
FACING YOU
PLAYING HORRIBLE NOTES
FOR YOUR
LOVELY FACE

FUTURE EX-HUSBAND #36

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