donate to ya boy

Friday, December 11, 2015

another highway

more hide outs

new ways to express pain

I'm just high now

batteries dead

looks like I cant drive now

my light still shines

probably from all the acid in my spine still

still life pictures of thrills

still off some pills now

a whole goblet full of coffee

shes still snappin stills...Im still pouting some how

pass me the peace pipe

I wont feel like dying now

ground littered in nothing

my ocd still holding on somehow


somewhere in the cheeseburger nebula.

glass full of scotch.

cigar full of indica.

Sprinkled lights on the river into Gotham

The kids are snorting coke while I’m eating

Xanax and sipping promethszene and codeine

Out of jones sodas

I’ve been haunting the streets for weeks again

Just contemplating s begging and an end

To the novel I’ve been working in

**‘I hate when “authors say this”

I’m a renaissance man in remission again

The whole scene feels bothersome

But praise Allah & opium bowls

I’ll see you again the tax doesn’t collapse me


Smoking blunts out of a screen door

Bored with the way that I’ve come up

Need more work on being less wholesome

We’ve all grown some

I think I’m a monster to most

But most of the time I’m just too high to zone

All this work got me feelin like scum

Only because I haven’t moved one single


Meet me where the sun sets over lady bird lake…that’s where I’ll feel wholesome

(I hope)

1 note
Lost in your eyes .

Another night of

You & me

and a bottle of wine

Soothing the whines

that bellow from

the comfort of this air mattress
Another night rambling

More moments scrambled together

Nice weAther // a body prepared for


I wish it was summer again

Never tethered …as if I ever have been

I wanna be a star jammer

More than just a mortal man

But god damn these years

These plans

They all just run together

And it all de materializes in my writhing grasp


This stupid son of a bitch is as it again

Nothing but movement

Ruthless with the way he misuses

However one amuses the term

Maybe I’ll see Valhalla again

Until then I’ll be awake

Dreaming of my life being taken again

All I’ve listened to lately is STp

And weiland died today

And I really feel the same way

That I did yesterday

Numb to the ever present ugliness

Like light was but a dream

And those who’ve had a taste

Are either dying inside or shining too bright
You know what I mean?

Monday, November 30, 2015

she asked

“What have you eaten today”

She asked

“Some xanax and codone”

She stared at the placemats

I felt like a happenstance

Happy mirage

A mirror of what you think is exciting

Opposed to what you now have to accept as “reality”

She keeps her wealth a secret

I flaunt my poverty

Obviously each other’s flaws are seen

“What do you want out of life”

She sips another glass of wine


The only worthy thing that came to mind

“But what do you mean?”

Finally intrigued

“The ability to not have to explain or do anything”

I leave…we hug…I write till my eyes bleed and I fall asleep on another couch somewhere in the south because my intentions speak volumes to the things I seek

Friday, November 27, 2015

the perks of being a fall flower

I see the wind whip threw my tree riddled city
Drip drip drip
The pitter patter of realitivley
I put on a ski mask with holes worn into the neck and chin area
Sparing the hypothermia that will ultimately rid me of this ethereal fear
Peer in to my soul
Is it merely piers or oceans
Maybe the Marionic trench
Doomed to repeat history
To stupid to say anything about it
Another night on a couch somewhere in Brooklyn
These crooklyn dodgers are fathers in the sense that their always learning
Manifesting a new state of being
I’m not dead yet
But I sure as fuck am bleeding
But this cooperstone won’t run
And the kids are no fun if they can’t operate guns or do drugs
This is our america
A nation of pirates and parrots
Nationalism and tariffs
This is my nation
And it burns this Black Friday

Monday, November 23, 2015

roll through cities with no doubt in my eyes

try as I might,these lines give greater purpose to life

quiet monday night madness while I snort lines

& she just lies the whole time.

I seem to have missed winter

but its still cold in my heart.

survival is beauty & pain

just as much as its an art.

formulate these cries with me

dead city dreams...all capitals

like FEAR & LOVE

compounded wisdom into pretty packages of judgement

this is not my last stand

I'll be ready to break bones by the time we're done here

(what have we done here)

a graceful parachute from heaven

grateful in death.

its like we've become deaf

bountiful in debt...yet I cant remember giving a single loan.

these scars are my home

these cars,punk houses & penthouses are my hope

that one day I can feed,shelter and clothe all who need more

but I have to do that for myself first.

bi polar abridged

less depressants / more wisdom

my molars grit

is this the gift in the lesson?