noway plz dont say

90 degrees on the tops of trees

i fixate strange clouds in a succession

they trickle downward

as i press a button

slurpy and glurpy

tell tales behind my back

they make nummy num faces

and chew on cows

out of big bowls gigantic stargazers

droop sadly for our entertainment

we are at the edge of our seats

in dramatic enjoyment

i am floppy and buoyant

enjoying every minute of this

hostile environment

laughing loudly at the horror

the seconds make way unto minutes

pronounced by the loud shouts of time

and we recognize him by his odd hat

as time tends to wear such things

time says something like:

“its coming on three minutes now” or

“it’ll be a half hour soon” and i’m

growing bored of him

he seems to think i want to hear

his opinion but i hate him

i feel grim, i am a button to be pushed

he is slapping me around with his personality

my thoughts turn from cherry to grape

the walls are very thin, and i am within them

neighbors shout in different languages

but what do they say?

im so sour with delight

i squeal with muddy zeal

ill let you pulverize my eyes

and then cover them with ice

we are here to watch you wear

those tantalizing skirts

spin and spurt

before us

oh plz give me greaze

oh my plate keep me safe

from your harm, im becoming

something else, very soon.

GET A JOB

booming out the bursting windows

of a forgotten time

the ancients make hastey waves

smoking on vilianous leaves

stuck together with spit

out of car windows

sprung together like springs

mystical earth creatures

the music is so amazing

you can hear it from your bedroom

zooming right past you

loud and fantastic

your mom fucking hates it

i am young and free and falling over

neon clothing

no one told me

life was like this

as a child i was spiteful

always grabbing onto knives

and watching a clockwork orange

always writing in my notebooks

now im staring at how folks look

in subways and on light rails

and im studying conditions

enveloping transmissions

because i find life to be so funny

funny little bunny

i laugh at sad dudes

who drive their wives to work

its only friday morning

i giggle at people who don’t know

how to be free

because i am it, and always have been

but oh so stuck

contradictions

the human experience

and if i wrote a book about this

i might just be rich

i am a genius

drunk sick and feeling like

some mad savant

some jackson pollock of a person

poised to be recognized after death

everything from here on is flipped

so we forget, and tied to broken steps

sliced on open car wrecks

so everyone can get a close look

peering out their open car windows

symphonic radio orchestras pierce

in and out of clarity

the sound escalates from loud to soft

i am sitting there in bits and peices

please everyone just take a peek

nobody ends up looking at me,

all they see is a blurred wreck

nothing posthumously stands before them

menacingly

just a blur of a car that once was…

just chunks of metal and shit.

i am wanting to IMPRESSION something

but i dont know what, nothing specific.

shapeshiftrrrrr

the squares imperfect

a circle that forms

prophetic triangles

and octagonal devices

peering past a rectangular

perimiter, a cylinder

torn a sunder in my pentagon

looking out my polygon window

i am a geometric monster face

rejecting your loose ended

theories, seeking to dismiss

with some subtle gist

that the earth is three dimensional.

the circle folds the hand

that feeds in tiny boxes

squared away. tucked in

shelves, rectangular selves

profuse profuse profuse.

they put a lolly

in your pocket

the dentist waves

a warm goodbye.

im twisting and permeating the

office walls, my head

tight fitting, ABOUNDS

yr slight mounds, im grossly

misinformed.

the bloody shackles

tackle me like football players

and i hate sports

because sports are BORING.

Twin Towers of deconstruction

a svelte face                                    germinating softly

lends itself through                             the magic stops

marauding hallways                     the prison leaks it’s

on guard always                                         rusty ghost

stuffy and stifled                                       i am no host

i am blowing past                                from where i sit

notions                                        i leaf through various

like a breeze                                                  typefaces

a swift, gaunt                                            mechanically

manipulation of                            manipulating an air

soul.                                        of some self destructive

they crawl into my                              nature, i search

box and hole                                     for a piece of paper

they sit upon my                      and scroll down these

chromosome                                         puzzled words

until there is                                                in my world

none.                                       and girls hardly care

in my dream dozens                 to deal with my fresh

make heed, running on                    air and piercing

cosmic fuels                                                     spirit

a neon fluid takes control                my heart recoils

and we all know                          and sweats to have

how these faces hide.         someone understand it

i am on a roll                                     it cannot be, and

with insect feelers                  after all i am not prime

instinctively healing               enough stock material

my own, private mistakes                        no shock or

i may be running late                        fancy explosion

to catch the bus                  dancing in harmony with

and on a train                                             me through

i feel insane, my fellow                          the streets of

passengers in an uproar                      new york city

odd militantistic imagry

im bustin’ out from the floor boards
with my war torn rhetoric,
slanderizing your nations
with a sheer force of idea
a mere notion of overcoming
hackneyed little soldiers
doing the lingo jive
in their cat’s pajamas
all over the living room floor,
what a stink!

the ships fly with wings
in the pretty air
and as the sun sets
miniature men jump out into
the horizon, they grab verizon
cell phones and start
the digital embrace
its written all over their face,
theyre jizzing it into effigy
compost heaps
and im loving every second,
laughing wholeheartedly as each passes.

THEY STAMP you out with
barbed wire.
yr fetal brain loose and lame
this tourniquet evening.

BRANDO gulps spagetti
from a neverending olive garden bowl
the audience asks him questions
through the movie screen,
and he answers back quite graciously.
we eat pie slow
and are reminded of
the purple rose of kairo.
but no keen force, plays any role
in this woody allen film.

its all just garbage twists that
you never use and keep in that drawer
you have in the kitchen.
just throw them out!!!
you wont use them.

drownded

looking to be led
by the hand
screaming thunder and lightening
my hot thought
burning my fingertips
with lye

my steaming idea
bracing itself for several
more to stamp out
impeding slight of hand
reaching

for beneath
and resonant notions
feel ever so common
im watching shirley temple shorts
and the little rascals and shit

hoping something like this
will snap me out of it.
i am grossly misinformed
and the informers lay and wait
peeling the skins
and then it begins.

smoke circles form
the circumference of my skull
the radio reveals speakers
that vibrate incredibly
gigantic boomboxes
giving me ultimate headaches

i am drowning.

digital eyescream

i am impressing upon
the world at large
small shards
creamy notions, set against
badly painted walls
with only one coating.
and the cracks that adorn
create veins that breathe
your circular computations.
u r the scent of a nation
digitally sticking it to me.
and i am here
snickering a sneer
broadening my world view
for what, for who(m)?

FOR ME, and in this sea
waves strike impermeable openings
galavanting dangerously,
loose cannons with sunken ships.
the ships have legs, and tap shoes
clickity clacking sandy wooden floors.
jazz and ballet notions, set aside
in sequined futuristic costumes.

the beat is so complete.

straight away i am engorged
with a thought so random.
i unzipper my skull,
place these things inside,
and take a short ride.
a paused trip, where every thought
sits within wooden crates…
mutated coffins of past lives
in a straight and visible row.

i can go where you cant go.
i can stand above all things
because i am not afraid of myself.
but im frightened of you,
out of the blue the red shows its face
sternly and coarsely
rotating in mad dashes across
my pixel screen.

this is my dream,
this is a squared idea.
so in a round about way,
i have nothing to say.

nothing at all, can break this fall
and im loving the drop
because its so out of the ordinary.

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

AW

the boss sez: eat this here dirt

 

you gallop around in a soft daze, kickin’ up the rocks.

 

you set yr sights on something different.

 

you have this idea in yr head to kick the boss in the face, just like those rocks. mabye string him by the ankles, twisting him in silly circles as he giggles and begs for his life.

 

the boss sez: don’t you get all day-dreamy on me now!

 

reality suddenly shifts. no average turn of events could have led you to this point.