got a dirty face

you are naked inside
no matter how many layers
of clothes you wear and
no matter how many times
you tell yourself that
everyone else is not
staring there

motion sickness

I've been told my poetry goes nowhere
like a car with no gas and I think to
myself at least it's been somwhere

thoughts before breakfast

i have hated and been hated
i have drank and been drunk
and
more
importantly
i have loved and been loved

scotch tape nightmares, duct tape dreams

everywhere I go
I saw you so I
took your picture
out of the inside
of my glasses but
still didn't fix
the problem

death of an era

I sighed when I found out that myspace had died.
I sighed not for the young ones with their self
taken portraits and nonsense surveys, but for the
people I had met, the friends I had made, and
the music that was listened to by kids all around
this big blue world. Yes the website still remains
but the movement has been buried deep, somewhere
underneath a concrete printer.

rip myspace 2004-2009

today

the whole world is against me
there's all these rules, lines,
and terms that every mother fucker
with a name tag on has me agreeing
to. everything is online. EVERYTHING.
i hope to see you someday starving
in the desert to which you ask "may
I have a drink," to which I will
reply "no you stupid fuck, you gotta
go on the internet on a wednesday
or friday only between the hours
of 8am and ten am and reserve the
bottle even thou the water is right
in front of your stupid ass face."
its a crock of horse shit. everyone
is scared of breaking the rules
that someone else made only for
the purpose of being "above" you.
well congratulations you are
officially an idiot by moral and
logical standards. that's the word
I was looking for. LOGIC. this all
defies LOGIC. the bar is the only
place left that understands the
general ideas of humanity. you give
the man money, he gives you a drink.
no waiting a week, no signing some
bull shit documents, no fucking
internet options to search through.
that being said, i'm gonna fuck the
system, and then make my own.

filter moon

i killed your boyfriend
in a dream one night
which is strange because
i think hes a pretty cool guy
strange how thinks work out
strange how kids grow up
strange how when im alone
i throw up
i killed your god
in a dream last night
which is weird because
i believe in him too
strange how im being blasphemic
strange how earth is full of shit
strange how when im at home
i grow up

>l((8djd7wGHG6%dbd _Aw-rw{W{[[-27*@jhmr 8

condoms shaped like condiminiums scatter the borders, allow us to practice to shooting blanks at one another.i think of how i quit my job for you.spiral shaped children perform dances in front of the bank.i think of how i live for you.until this
moment my hands were merely organs attatched to robot arms.the sun gets sick and pukes elements of stardust and cancer into my mouth.today is a good day to not be wearing a shirt.id like to be labeled "shirtless, jobless, but not childless" one day.yes, id like to be labeled.maybe i should forget to turn the gas off.would anyone wonder where i went or just assume im impartial to telephone signals?difficult.i like that word.i could be friends with that word, were it a person shaped like the letter "d".there are waves in my head, crashing, cumming, exfoliating.this wrench on my scalp makes it possible to hear them fucking the shores of my eye sockets.that cardboard box.quit staring at me.i wear glasses.glasses wear me.glasses appreciate me.i appreciate glasses.glasses full of beer on my face.maybe i should forget to turn off the gas.my friends would notice.last i saw of them we were sniffing animal tranquilizers all night.i didnt ask questions.i never ask questions,unless im asked first.

post pardum

you're love makes me whole again.
it makes me feel like I've been
shot in the mouth, right between
the eyes in my mind.they radiate
purple and yellow spiritual
nonsense that drives me crazy.so
i knock on the wood in my pants
and then do a dance
around a bunch of dead
bodies.

band name

My friend Elvis and
my friend Elijah
sat and had a few
drinks. I sat next
to them and talked
to myself.

i am sad

tomorrow I will take up smoking again
and hopefully start performing street
magic in front of the dolphin tavern.
this wine sits in my gut then rots
just like me. you are a watered down
drink, cheap and somehow healthy

I Hear Things

I place my face against warm printer paper. The
ink has just been laid amongst the once living
features of a tree. The paper breathes. Then
whispers secrets of the forest. Four years ago
she saw me wondering the woods lost and alone.
I cry. My heart holds the hand of printer paper
and a crowd of people surrounds us. "It's okay
to hurt," she whispers and then dies.

ill proportioned sevings

think twice then
try to be polite.
drink it down or
just suck it up.
is it unusual
to feel uncomfortable
when you're around
people you don't
want to know at all?
i don't understand
the rain. i am open
to your change.
s.
i don't believe in
a popular belief.
i am an ocean.
you are the sea.

I Am Nothing Without You

I am nothing without you
Just a void in the arms of space
I am nothing without you
Just some fuzz on the TV screen
I am nothing without you
I guess you could call me
Yea, you could call me
A paraplegic without you
But you're more than a limb or two
You're more than a uniform
I am nothing without you

in portugal

noise,
fire,
and
over
pixelated
pictures
of
mountain
tops.
that
river
just
winked
at me.
hello,
river!
I
think
I'll
shed
my skin
today,
inside
of you
and
watch
it
float
away
with
the
fish
and
bacteria.