Sunday, January 23, 2011


As I mix the color of your skin
I seemingly make you out with always the wrong pigment
I cannot recall your pale hue through time

Your fiery hair set me ablaze
In those years that have slipped away
When chemicals permeated everything

As the sun dies, realizing your flowers have fallen
In the winter that came to grip us mercilessly
Though I think of you often when the dahlias are in bloom  


I sought your face in the falling rain
come to me, comfort me
With the frost of your bitter words
And the splash of biting cold
 I remember you through velveteen curtains
Binding everything in the spice
With those chapping caustic salts
We wove together a new world
That once remembered our fates
Illuminated in the phosphorescence
Sickness bound everything and brought it screaming to the ground
And I love it.
I love a world that is equal but unfair
I watch the footwork with my hands
This perverse atonement exchanged a thousand times over
Trapped Until I see nothing but the blur of lights
Traffic of the world we once sought to accommodate
drowning in the splashing maelstrom
I dropped through the event horizon
became forced to talk in echoes
and heard everything in matte lacquer     


Falling forward through time
Beyond compassion, pity, or humanity
I look back upon this place and question my role in its activities
What a disgustingly human behavior
I can’t get them out of my skin
I can’t take my eyes off of their muscular legs as I wonder the taste-
When did I get so addicted?
for the faint of heart
when did you become so pathetic?
Remember: doubt destroys everything

Nhilism 2

And riding into a big I-don’t-know-what
Gigantic thing.
and we plant the polyps, these ones are good,
really good
made of the fresh hot misery of innocent girl
caught in the crossfire from my sharp tongue
and the vacuum of her self-worth
and the words fell out of me like dead critters, man
“I am too old to put up with people that don’t believe in themselves”
I mean that.
I too would like the one-way ticket out of here
But that subway waits like so many unsuspecting trees
And half-as entertaining
Draw some lines
In the sand, with some cans, in cocaine, in ketamine hydrochloride
“time marches on…”
Tell me all about the cold; I live in southern California.
I am too busy to hold any heart
Too dry to sprout any seed
but I am just the right age to plant polyps
smack in the middle of it
the skittering eyes can’t even see it coming
but-  it is not the sting of a venom laced harpoon
rater- the sarcastic blown-kiss
that reeking bile that slips out of the corners of my lips
when I say things like “praise the lord”
or “two famous-stars with cheese; and do you think you could make them with santa-fe-sauce instead of mayonnaise. Yeah, with cheese, thanks.”
And Like everything else
it falls apart like a house of cards.


Their dilapidated wings flitter against the broken asphalt
As I look behind them deeply,  in the ground
“I don’t like birds.” I say to nobody
Because nobody is here
There aren’t any birds

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Freight Bombing

Reading the boxcars
Goliath iron makers
Deep into who-knows-where for who-cares-why
Echoes Rolling on into a sick world of clanking metal

the counter-culture
is held under the knife
Each painting triggering a flash of déjà vu
past experiences that never took place

Pile chemicals into the immolation
burning my heart
infect me more deftly, I seek nothing
Because I am through with it

Would it be fair to say: “I missed you” ?
A vacant longing for a faceless plethora of color
All those human flowers plastered on those great wyrms
In a vulgr attempt to linger, but not be forgotten

Because we would rather die than be prisoners
In this dead world of iron and stone
 that tore the trees from my grasp
to leave the world a better place

trivial justifications against a barren backdrop
trivial sideways words, to combat paper shields  
do not betray me now  when they have lain waste to the beauty we keep
when we have forsaken so much to carry on

I sought to be invisible
As long as I could be seen by one other
Who could see me for what I am
That person is a fiction, like many things

Forget me! Forget that I passed through this place
Could you not see me for what I am?
For what  I do, or for what I mean
And I fall amongst the worthless in this world of academics

I am of the dark family
That sacrificed so much to be this way
it has been a  long time coming
we are down to the wire

where I crushed my soul into my hands
and forced it out of them
 it was what i could do, but not nearly enough
to help anyone see

it kills me to know that my children have been forfeited
the leviathan has fallen, we simply decorate its carcass
that one day others may pluck it’s scales
and hold them to the sky to hide from the raining wrath

as we slip through the wasteland of metal tracks
breathing beasts  in the frost of the night
sauntering between the agreeable world we sacrificed
the collapse is all-encompassing

the feeble attempts of reconstructing my flowers
into a world of metal that roars on into the night
I forgive you.
But I can never trust another again.     

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Nhilism 1

within the halls of this house the river dies.
birds depart under the glorious sky
the fading sun screams your name
and I? I vanish

ther is never a good way to stand down
as the back seat fills with mindlessly colorful things
and the barking dogs run once anything enters the gate
because it was all a show

you could say; "a dog an pony show."
but where the FUCK are the FUCKING ponies?

nobody gives two-shits about the ponies.

fuck your ponies
fuck your dogs

it is the sound and the fury we live for; the song and the dance luckily i can both sing and dance... in my way
but who cares about that it is what one might call "irrelevant"

like so many of these other surrogate activities that the whole world seemed to think was important this too, is as cheap and as stupid as it ever was and evaporates to signify nothing

ironically, so does everything else
...just give it some time .

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


 ideals of justice, righteousness, and worth
rooster-tails spraying everything I pass over
echoing a time when I didn’t feel so impotent
asphyxiating in the constant sigh of central heating

where is everything that I took pride in?
manifestations of vanity that I came to know well
strangled by their own cords in the reticulation of my mind
I wanted everything, wanted everything to be different

Sedated by solstice, those conventional terms of consciousness falter
Evacuate my lungs feigning pollution, corruption, and infection
I too, sought great things of people scattered as myself
Maintained a sense of hope in the chasms that do not seek visitors

It all seemed so important then, it was… unique
Feel the broad strokes of black wings everything seems to be
that undulating umber that I sought to touch so fervently
holds the lasting effect the tender wounds that time must heal

As I smothered fables of a past life in ink, acrylic, and lacquer
I sought the faces of all that I had ever loved
Only now realizing; the only people that love me are the ones I create
Mannequins I vandalize into obscure gains that claim valor in this world

Wrought iron bars and cinderblocks reverberate the various cages
As  though everything becomes light-headed in this attempted disneyland
Chlorine fills the air in the plastic halls they walk, thoughtlessly
Standing out against this sterilized canopy, to make easier targets

I was once a creature of great bounty  and skittishly creep
in the alleys they built on ruins: places I thought  of as my own
will I ever learn to master things like; forgiveness, reconciliation, and affection
forgotten after so much time dissolving in acid

each second etches another black mark against my name
with the depravation of air I so desperately need
how can one reconcile time in the wake of so much loss?
holding on to a paralyzing fear of letting go 

Sunday, January 2, 2011


As I asphyxiate without it
Crushing all things into tight spheres
Wondering how anything ever
Mattered before this
Randomly thinking in broken expressions
The philodendron made a great point:
“do what you love.”