Friday, December 15, 2023

Flying

Lay the pieces out for inspection,

neatly arranged by type and size.


Select matching parts.

Assemble supports.

Gently stretch delicate skin 

across the framework 

we have constructed together.


Secure the string.

Connect heaven and earth through humanity,

and soar 

on the ocean breeze at twilight.


The pounding surf laps at your shore like a greedy orphan

chewing away the boundary between sea and land.


While our hearts ride the wind with the kites

we carve our joy in granite

and write our regrets in the sand.


The moment will expire

but we can examine the corpse

to gather some cold comfort

some lonely day when wonder

seems like every other lie we save for children.


But right now it doesn’t take work

Light, unrestrained

Yearns through the void

To kiss your face

And die in my eyes


And the string pulls and sometimes it burns


The kite will do what the kite will do

and it will fall when it falls

despite our desire and karma.


We just hold tight

enjoying the night,

flying.


Friday, May 6, 2022

I Am That I Am

I have been the butt 
of your low-hanging jokes,
for as far back as I can remember.

But I gotta admit that ain't too far.

Between the k2, booze, and blunt force trauma
bout the only thing that sticks, anymore,
is the pillow
and some
macaroni and cheese
sometimes
when I'm stabbing my brother.

When beer is your coffee, 
life takes on dimensions
mere muggles can't begin to grok.

When the zombies attack, 
you gotta throw bricks,
or raw chunks of crumpled concrete,
whatever you got on hand, really.

And when you live like me,
it's better to forget
that your wife collected money 
for your dead sons
while they were still alive,
and tried to bite your dick off
when you was too tired 
for relations.

I got seven friends a day
dying from prescription overdose.
I got a hundred thousand brothers
rotting right now in prison.

I stabbed a Bears fan in the spur of the moment,
and shot my own damn self bowling on a Tuesday night.

I got caught masturbating on a public boat ramp.

What I'm trying to say 
is that if you been through what I been through
you'd get a beer while fleeing police too.
Cuz you'd know it'd be a while before your next one.

and if you ever let the buzz wear off
and the memories catch up
you'll have a hangover that could kill that skunk ape,
that I saw that night
out behind my toolshed
attempting to have relations with an alligator.

You can't hear about me without smirking,
and your silent "there but for the grace of God go I" and I
I don't blame you for your feeling superior.
We're each just as we was created.
But don't act like you don't envy me.

My name brings them to their knees,
killing from Glengarry to Synecdoche,
St Paul to San Tropez.
I got 400 million hits on google, 
and 108 thousand followers on twitter
watch me come up
I'll be bigger than TikTok,
but I want you to know my name.
I am Florida Man.

I will get a blowjob from a hooker with my toddler in the car.
I will throw eggs at the courthouse.
I will sometimes be attacked by alligators.
I will often be found butt naked,
in the wrong person's house or apartment,
or on the side of the road,
proposing to a dead pit bull,
or attempting to have relations with it.

I love my cock-shaped state
that you can't take your greedy little eyes off.

born in the fountain of youth
washed in the blood of conquest
trained by mad raving pirates
stolen from the Seminole
plundered by capitalist greed
shaped by drug cartels and the space race

this is a land of endless freedom
strapped down by dickhead cops
*spits*

And if you're too scared to push it to the edge
how can you feel superior when I fall?
You rely on God's grace to keep you out of danger
because you can't handle this heat.
Like a caged canary laughing at raging wild turkey
you hold your manhood 
cheep
while I speak.

And I'll leave you with the words
tattooed across my neck,
"Only God can juge this soul"
and YES, I know I spelled judge wrong

I am FLORIDA MAN!
And I will chew your fucking face off!

I want

I want to bury my face in your hair
and die
with your scent in my lungs.

I want to wrap my arms around you and squeeze
like you're the last bit of toothpaste in the tube.

I want to find every man that hurt you
and beat him
at everything he's best at
in front of everyone he ever respected.

I want to find the mean girls from high school
make them fall in love with me
and dump them on prom night
by showing up with you.

I want to know every inch of you with my tongue.

I want to listen to you laugh after midnight
when we both have to work in the morning.
I want to rub our foreheads together
and let fireflies explore our skin by moonlight.

I want to have to throw away my favorite
black silk shirt
because you ripped the buttons off
with your teeth.

I want to regret saying
some fucked up shit
that makes you look at me
that way.

I want to laugh together
at some other fucked up shit I said
that makes you look at me
that other way.

I want to hold your hair when you puke.
I want to know what your farts sound like
but not what they smell like, because that's gross.

I want to know what your breath tastes like in the morning.
I want to hold you while you soak my face with tears.
I want to know everything there is to know about you
and keep it to myself.

I want to start making love on the beach as the sun goes down
and finish as it comes back up.

I want to make love in the middle of the day
and go back to work without taking a shower
so when I unzip to piss
your scent will hit me in the face
like a cloud of love bugs on the grill of a semi
and I'll remember every noise you made at once
and I will spontaneously sigh-groan out loud in remembered ecstasy before I can catch myself,

drawing funny looks from the other men at the urinals.

I want to go to bed mad at you
and wake up ashamed of myself.
I want to cover you like an atomic force field
and take all of your pain for my own.
I want to make you moan
and your legs shake like Michael J Fox.

I want to make you forget
what pain and hunger feels like.
I want to make you wish
the world would end when we kiss
because every moment that we don't is a disappointment.
I want to give you your space.

I want to listen to you babble about the minutia of your day
in excruciatingly painful detail
while I rub oil into your breasts and thighs.
I want to make you feel alive.

I want to wake up with pins and needles
because you fell asleep laying on my arm.
I want to eat your sin and feed you love.

I want to open pickle jars for you.
I want to reach into the back of the top shelf in the cupboard
to get that thing you need as often as you need to use it.

I want to move at your speed.
I want to make you blush when I tell you how I feel.
I want to hold you in the dark till neither one of is afraid.

In a word,
I want you.

Thursday, May 5, 2022

Albino Crow

Albino crow knows
Nobody listens to words
anymore
anymore
Singing songs of his heart
they see alabaster wings
not the melody he brings
they say he needs a shiny concept
to best represent his emerging brand
and delineate a marketable persona
to set his art apart from his peers
he needs a gimmick
he needs more misery
they wanna know
who is keeping him down
No one believes in happiness
anymore
anymore
Truth is why we can't now
we're so poor
anymore
Albino crow hops
from branch to branch
along the grass
digging deeper than he can reach
stones chipping tender beak
dirt and blood making mud
like a funeral shroud
piss-proud, he takes the summit
dripping death and intoxication
he says
see, I'm just like you
cock-a-doo
a-doodle-do
Mud Crow forgets
what he came to say
and it doesn't seem important
anymore
anymore
but from the rippled surface of his favorite bath
a stranger stares him down
and laughs

Tuesday, April 26, 2022

The Pledge of Allegiance

Documents were recently uncovered which prove without a doubt that the US Pledge of Allegiance was not, as previously thought, authored in 1892 by a Socialist Baptist minister.

This also proves that "Under God" was NOT added in response to the Red Scare of the 50s, but was there from the very beginning.

The actual author remains unknown, but recordings of George Washington presenting the pledge to the legislature were found on a steam powered MP3 player that had fallen behind a stack of Ben Franklin's erotic French lithographs in the library of congress where it lay forgotten for two hundred years until Lupe pulled the desk out to vacuum.

I present to you now, the full, unedited, complete transcript of this momentous occasion.

Monday, November 28, 2011

Counterfeit

I'll pretend to love you
so you'll keep making me sandwiches
and I'll try to figure out how to keep you happy
without losing my mind

but the days wear on
and my patience wears thin
behind this false smile
my teeth are clenched
and grinding

when you talk
I look over your shoulder
out the window
at anything else
but you

our love is counterfeit
at least mine is
built on a lie
hidden under false hope
and whitewashed
with a fading coat of lust

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Stonemason's Lament

You. You were right about everything.
A warm blooded ghost casting shadows on my eye.
I. I knew it from the start.
Suspending reason to chase my love of sorrow.

I'm the one who reads a book twice
and expects words to change in the meantime,
while in between time, print is dead,
each syllable a mortared stone
art's illusion suggesting life
when the only possible change
is destruction.

So when you look back
(I don't expect you to look back)
You'll see me running crooked circles
around these crumbling monuments
forever bearing witness to ephemeral truths
locked in cold, dead stone
or as close as human feeling can approach.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Mother Nature and Father Time

Mother Nature and Father Time

Mother Nature never changed a diaper.
Father Time don't understand the moonwalk.
She just lets her children figure things out for themselves,
While he's marching on and on across their corpses.

And all the children sing and dance forever.
And all the children march and carry praise.
And all the children smear their gold dust into tired, blinded eyes.
All the children cry and kick at bedtime.

Mother Nature doesn't care about her babies.
She only ever cares that there are more.
She spreads her legs and welcomes any suitor.
Mother Nature is an eager, lusty whore.

And all the children clutch her apron strings.
And all the children shout and scream “she's pure”.
And all the children crave to suck her supple breast.
All the children do is break her heart.

Father Time doesn't care about his sons.
He only cares that they will keep on spinning.
He will not listen to them whine and talk about their feelings,
Father Time wants the trains to run more promptly.

And all the children try to make him proud.
And all the children want to catch his eye.
And all the children try to play when he gets home from work.
All the children scan the darkness for his face.

Mother Nature and Father Time went to market
And all the children stayed right here at home.
Mother Nature and Father Time went to the Milky Way
And all the children got was a lousy T-shirt.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Pound Puppy

On her second day
at a three day kill shelter
she found me
with her bright eyes full of dark rain
and a hyperactive tail that drew my eye

I was looking for a cat
because puppies are dumb
chew everything
and piss all over the carpet

But she was cute enough to tame
and learned to come without a leash
we laid together afternoons
and dug up the neighbor's garden

On the way out one morning
I forgot to latch the door
and she ran

To the old man down the street
singing a recycled, borrowed lullaby
through tired teeth

So now I keep a plate of kibble
on the doorstep

Whistle strange melodies for her
and double-check my locks

Hoping she'll run back for a walk around the block

Or five

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

diggin holes


When it comes to dangerous women
i'm like the croc hunter with a drug-fueled death wish
lookin for a beauty
i'll stick my thumb in her bum
and flash my baby blues
at her snarling maw
reach in and snag a heartstring
to tie around my neck
before I throw her off the bridge
like a cinder block

I pick the winners
in a roomfull of stable women I will find the one
that had her first abortion at 12 years old
in the TV room of her trailer
administered by her father's left foot
wrapped in a leather engineer's boot
because he wanted her to stay an only child

so now she smokes and snorts and drinks
to outrun the memories until she passes out
and she gets raped so much
it seems like a hobby

and I say I wanna bring a tender touch
but baby, I'm the toxic pretender
lookin for a stockholm hostage
I can infect like an opt-in tumor
enthrall in love with a capital D
with my weaponized sexuality

I'm just looking for another hole
to stuff my bullshit in
and if it isn't deep enough
I'll keep digging in

my twisted princess to have and to have
to hold and to suffocate
own and control
and kick to the curb
when I'm tired of playing house
till I catch her back
on the bounce

I'll treat her like a goddess
to worship and adore
as long as she keeps me happy
because I love you only means
I love the way you make me feel
and nothing makes me feel
very good
for very long
and I get bored
very easy

i'm addictive
best taken with other drugs
cause complications
and decrease tolerance

by the time they pry her loose from me
both our asses will be covered in clawmarks
and the screaming lies called promises
will still be ringing in deaf ears
and hollow hearts
till something new comes along
to fill the holes
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