i wrote this on my phone!

the broom chases the squirrel
headfirst into a tunnel
the tunnel blooms into a maroon
victorian room.
miniature men prance about,
sipping odd drinks
like tanqueray and sierra mist,
and just when i think:
fuck this!
the scene shifts
i am carelessly driving
like a madwoman
down a darkened,
tree-lined street
owls whooo at me
auditorily expressing
my overall confusion
at being human.

you could have at least finished the darned thing!

they feast on your eyes
in the county court house
silently ramificating the idea
that you are so far gone – there is no hope

i’m playing jacks with tacks
garbling as i shoot marbles
jumping rope with the pope
tossing spears with king lear

its ridiculous
the last stanza
ends abrup

ohgod, selfloathing.

i want to be someone else
for once

i want to become someone else.

uh.. SHIT.. this one is a real bummer, sry!!

my empty heart
has hollow ventricles
sagging lowly
within cored out alley ways
capillary monstrosities
no reason for feeling
life’s small intricacies
but nonetheless i feel
it beating down on me.
in pangs and wanton
streaks, reminding me
not to speak
never to speak my mind
to lay frozen and locked inside
my allotted time.
and like a clock
i tick and tock my way
thru the lonely corridors
that life persists
is where i should exist
lonely
and unworthy of anything else.
my fabric is a soft felt
but no body wears felt,
its unfashionable and raw to the eye…
and so am i, so am i.

i am breathing
my heart is beating
fingers twitching
thoughts maneuvering
feelings spewing
terrible notions of a life
just as lonely as ive always lead.
i am perpetually in the red,
to this very day
and although my friends say
im quite a catch
my hooks remain unlatched
i, still unattatched

oh, forever and always
isnt such a long time
but it lasts centuries
when you have the inability
to think of something else.
honesty and honor,
pride and symbolism
these are notions that i have given into
they are what i know
truer than true
through and through
and although i am bleeding for the chance
for someone to take my hand
someone very kind
i am not so inclined to believe it will happen.

i want to work with children,
mabye hang out with perez hilton
be a cultish smash, like darby crash
correspond with carrie fisher
smoke blunts with bangley and asher
subsist in a world thats anything, other.
but im not optimistic, that shit wont happen.

and then one day i will
gradually become
dust.

edge my card posts

i need stumies
brain candy
canadian comedy
probed into my
frontal lobes

but no kids in the hall film
could possibly peel off my
outer layers
making small lamps out of them
like ed gien

i’m running out of steam
with no place to go
approaching the ramp
best pals off to boot-camp
my stomach in an uproar

i am a whore for sleep
snoring silently, my dreams
a mental wedge, and so i
read postcards from the edge
instead

these pages flow, familiarly
old receipts
are make-shift bookmarks
that kindly remind me of a life
i used to lead

trapped in the pencil lead
i feel quite dead
never knowing if i’ll be
laughing or crying
always knowing that no one could ever love me

so i’m taking a break
and reading this book
and looking around, peeking
out of the gook
exceeding the muck that surrounds me

proverbially

incomplete

my absolute theory
reducing the reduction
simplifying,
in a cognitive way,
the undeniable truth
to all things.

my cell phone rings
my face drops
and i am floating on top of
handsome clouds
and i create this landscape
because i can, why not?

i’m quite particular
abstractly shining
small flash lights
attatched to gun sights
thru darkened, evening car windows
oh smack, that was the zodiac

but i DO have a killer face
i invade the space
provided to me
by interesting movies
and old pixely videogames
i played when i was thirteen

the ghosts gather around
for a party
and our host, is a fatal menace
i meet this guy and get a bad feeling
that he is all there is
and i am something different

than he, i am she
i am it, in piles of sick
hamster wheel conditions
this is my mission:
to explode my personality
onto the bed, staining the sheets

boxing my beats,
chewing my meat,
feeling replete,
walking the streets,
worthless yet elite,
incomplete.

cocked

this wall of transference
weeps large drops
of carbonated sugar syrup and
grape flavored hypocrisy,
granulated
sprinkled atop
your mind’s pie

and your blind eye
is cocked
as it has always been
and no prescription
for coke bottle goggles
can ever heal that

and so, im fat
and i define myself as such
i can acknowledge the truth
and when i state personal factualities
i am told to shut up
and not think like that

and when i relatively
acknowledge the truth
in others
i am
given a wide berth

so this situation is
unsolvable
and im sort of giggling
because im aware
that the truth is so much more intelligent
than scattered lies
to convince oneself
they have everything in place

i accede to race,
because it exists
i recognize sadness
because it is only human
that we become sad.
crying is natural,
and not irrational

to believe yrself to be
something very, very special
is certainly not
a delusion of grandeur.

My First ACROSTIC Poem (DETOXKRAUTBOX)

Down deep in unknown rivers
Ever so casually swimming amongst the muck
There is a prevailing feeling
Over and under aquatic streams, that I’m
Xeroxing carbon copies of myself for all to see

Kirsten never admits defeat unless she’s
Really fucking sure she can’t win, but
Are you so sure you don’t like-wise exist
Under and over those same aquatic streams
Tenderly alive only to feel passion?

Beware
Of false prophets. DETOX is the REAL DEAL and
Xeroxing her ideas, for you all to see.

I want nothing else

i am here
with brown eyes
and an overpowering
sense,

that my existance
exists
merely to
exist

that my chubby face
although tangible and real
cannot feel
and is not embraced.

i am there
with brown hair
with a heavy heart
very sensitive

i have no place
i have no home
it was destroyed
but being rebuilt

and my hands are
hard and callused
from the work
i had no energy for
before

we are all alone
not only me
except i can see
what you can’t see

ON YOUR OWN

and i let it be shown

i want to be
known

i want nothing
else

For My Sister

I LET YOU BACK IN
AND YOU FUCKED ME AGAIN
AND I FEEL SORRY FOR YOU
THAT YOU CANNOT ACCEPT THE TRUTH

BUT IF THATS HOW THINGS ARE,
ASCRIBED IN THE STARS,
WE ARE ALL BETTER OFF
NOT HAVING A RELATIONSHIP

I WILL LOVE YOUR DAUGHTERS,
AND POSSIBLE SONS
WITH EVERY FRAGMENT
OF MY FLAWED HUMAN VESSLE

AND I WILL LOVE YOU TOO
BECAUSE THATS WHAT FAMILY DO
AND I WILL KEEP YOU SAFE
AS LONG AS GOD LETS ME

SO ASCRIBED IN THE STARS
ARE ALL OF MY SCARS
AND ALL OF YOUR FEARS
AND A FATHER’S WIDOWED TEARS

A FAMILY BLESSED
WITH A CHILD SO CHERISHED
AND IF YOU DENY ME MY PLACE
I WONT HESITATE

TO BE TRUE TO MYSELF
AND THE EARTH THAT SURROUNDS
MY HEART AND MY MIND
IN THESE TROUBLED TIMES

SO DO WHAT YOU WISH
AND GIVE JULIE A KISS
I WOULD GIVE YOU ONE AS WELL
BUT I FRIGHTEN YOU.