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Friday, December 31, 2010

puma vs snake

i write with this passion,this feverish race between my brain and the empty space on the paper
the devoid leads to a frantic pace,quick glances out the window at the warehouse district of denver in the shadow of the majestic rocky mountains
gobbling trazadones while I spend my christmases alone.ritually.holy.always.empty
I need some thing to keep me warm.
I need some one to hold me.
I need a little help with happiness and laughter even if its in pill form.
even if it may make me convoulse and seizure,erupting with pain and fever
my brain chemistry hasent been in top shape since my senior year of highschool ,so upward.UP UP UP into the arms of your virgin mother
with a gun barrel between your teeth you only speak in vowels and
broken sentences,
saying cliche lines like
"you dont have to do this."
shrug it off and chalk it up as another learning experience.
a whole months worths of coupons for ammunition and liquor
too many regrets to count on one finger
and yet im destined to see the technicolor rainshowers
as i vomit rainbows into the ceramic shower
cold skin dabbed by moist towels
cold words by heated ex spouses who just wish you were dead
or down south.
the only spite I have is with myself for this anchor of heads I have tied to my heart strings,this overwhelming feeling that Im hated by the people who claim they love me,its all anxietys,obnoxious and creeping down my spinal column to include me in the grand scheme of leaving the earth abrupdtly
do I pull a heath ledger or HST?
perscriptions or 12 gage? film or journalisim?
football season isnt over,but its close enough world...
im seeing things happen to me I never thought would,devistating conversations from mothers,exs,best friends...all to apologize for fucking me over
and all to ostrocize me for not being the conformed,pristine choir boy they had evidently assumed I was.
I see the look in their eyes,each of them,worn out from a friendship.
worn out from never getting anything in return but laughs and hugs,and all the money comes so sporadically it never is enough. so I walk
hungry and heartbroken only looking for a place to be
to simply exsit,is that to much to ask? peices of bread,glasses of water
a two hour nap on the floor of the front room of your apartment
some alone time,personal space,these things become luxury to my day to day lifestyle
of surviving this concrete rainforest.
the only slash and burn is my loss of a the one last thing I had going on,
my last lifeline to a normal life,to settle down,take my zoloft as I watch one of my 500 tv channels,wondering what car defines me,what brand represents my individuality.
but Ive been reborn...oh more sleepless nights contemplating the destruction of my world,my life,my struggle.
no more of putting my faith in love...
no more letting anyone get close..its always somthing you never saw coming...a gradual tightning of the neuce..
I fear im becoming a cold old man with domination on his brain waves,
conditenoned to thinking the way I used to,before love,before having somthing beautiful in my life I could spoil and hold onto threw the morning,wake up to each of us telling stories,eating pomegranetes as the sun kissed our royaly pale pigment...she taught me what it is to be a man,to have responsibilitys,to have goals,aspirations. she listened to me whine about the things I couldent choose in my life,morning after sleepless night,she held me tight,I was like a small child. scared and alone,alienated and wronged by what I percived to be the good in the world,she kept me calm. she stayed with me threw the overdose,after I lost all mental and physical control. she accepted the phone calls from the walsenberg jail,both of us on the verge of tears every time we heard a breath,but I had to stand strong so I wouldent get my assed kicked in,even the nights where she was crying and I just laid there holding her arms are still some of the best hours ive ever had,even during the bad times I thrived off of her presence,those eyes haunt me every fucking second..
but im alive,somehow,even after I lost my sanity quit my job and blew all my money on not remembering tomorrow,trying to forget yesterday. I lost all hope,and that was freedom. freedom to fuck and run amuck all over denver with trashy tramps and scamdogs...gambling and rambling until the morning comes.

never though,never do I fuck or love.never do I wish I was in some one elses shoes. never do I wish I had bank statements and porsches and a room dedicated to dali origonals,with a very respectable wardrobe. nor do I wish I had stayed in school,or bit my tounge a few more instances. the only regrets I have is I couldent have made it better for those who I shared my time with,I couldent shower my princess,drink and smoke up my best friends. I regret there werent more trips to the zoo,I regret we didnt get dolled up and paint the town red that red dress youve always looked so beautiful in,or the gold and purple one,all sparkly and full of energy,or you,it screams your name. most of all I regret not kissing you more...i was assumed it would exsist forever...assumptions can be misleading,huh..deciving even.
as hard as this goes, i wish you the best,I hope you become queen of the universe,I hope all is right with your soul,and you meet a gentleman who your family enjoys more,without a drug problem,well versed in sports,whos a master at card games and james bond trivia,and a wizard with classic cars. I hope you know that I had no intentions to wear you down,make you sick when you see me,all this pride makes im sorrys and I fucked up more scarce and worth less,and all this arrogance make this heart beat dispare as my cold unchanged glare marks an end to words this evening,clinching my teeth as my jawbone creeses in my cheek,for someone who writes all time it sure is hard for me to express myself in anything other then destruction or art...and even then my brain bleeds.I hope you read this,I hope you understand how fucked up my thoughts can be,how torterous it is to never be able to quite fully express yourself in normal ways...even normal sentences that arent littered with gramatical mistakes.

I lost a best friend to GOD for no reason...I cant loose another one for my evilness or trampyness or whatever it may be,however hard it maybe to see you with another guy,I just like to see you,just to know your doing ok,just to know someones enjoying that smile,your laughter,that weird fucking sense of humor.your passion,that brain you have on you,the cute little way you hold your hands when your excited..I just need to know your alive,and doing alright.

oh jaguar,orlandos empty tonight.

Thursday, December 30, 2010

inside my cerebral cortext

do you smell the machinery?
the gears grinding into a new century of gilded prospects and revelry
aspects of the whole ordeal are seasoned with lunacy
no more noise,I plead
only hundred dollar bills and stripper poles
plush pleather couches with mozart turned to unmatched deciables
loud.pulsating symphonic orgasims for the enlightened youth of symbolic modern living
...if you were concerned...
we are those classy fellows with scotch and cigar calogne
dining &
speaking amongst ourselves in the back of the ballroom
blitzed by the benzodiazepane self written perscriptions and crime wave binges of our yesteryears, only to prove at one time we lived life without restrictions.
we had mentioned no more words would be ommited in here.Hush.Hush,the dogs will be here soon with military and new laws on the books,making art as illegal as murder.
I see this brave new world emerging
barely paying mind to the time period we find our selves lost in at the present moment...surrounded by the ladies and their gentlemen.grenadine and assorted hand guns...rarely making time to regret the things no one even tried to remeber..
we black out and seizure,speak in tounges and worship
preaching that every being is a God of sorts and should be treated as such..
we lay naked in a pile in the middle of the floor
bellowing laughter as we find others staminas have failed in comparison to ours
we kiss threw the solar flares and eclipses of satelittes and space stations
in shadows of celestial worlds
we find ourselves at the edge of the universe hopped up on nicotene and amphedamines
reciting the poetry we had wrote silently as the metor shower evolved in secracy,
above the nebulas and rings of saturn,we danced in the stars for hours in silence
far from the creature comforts of my california king size comferters
and my mistress the lake by the name of whitney,texas.
Or my lovers...the capital city...austin...denver..
anaheim just kinda happened.
we bathe in the river together as the night wears on,showers for the weary travelers with asphalt in their blood,road signs in their eyes on perpetual green lights and the only word:
GO.never a request always a statement.
no white borders around the stop sign. no fear of losing money or respect,swallowing pride we eat off of good wills and friend ships of the brothel.
sleep in empty beds of best friends as our wishes our scribbled in a drunken desire to express the love we have for everyone in the bsement of lights,glistening to the sound of the saw that groans in the other dimensions of an empty house to a living organisim.
the doomed tone of the evening is soft,and our shirt tails have been caught on the fences of every midwestern town from here to maryland
we wore on threw black holes and super novas,realising their is no home
only hope and roads formed by the dirt and sand,shaped by the wind and mud.
we brush our shoulders and thighs as we devise exit plans to throw wild ragers of our own.
we cry as wolves would as we exit stage right,out the main lobby of the building and into our restless night of lives given new strucure and form as we still wait for the sun,burning each cigarette to its filter,stripping each tire of rubber.
the flowers choke the sky scrapers till their lifeless and vibrant
we escape to an opium den in southern thailand for a six month binge of filling our heads with knowledge you cant obtain from in a class room setting.
I run the chess board,just as the saint has his siberian summer
or the father has his common obscure, we found we had become enamored by our thick white porcealin scultrues,and as sick of em as we were,as vultures we swooped in to bask in the auroma of disease...this defeat,as it would be,is an act of war as we see it. words tossed about as simples as whores...the more we discussed it the less logic it held,regardless,we had no concept of failing
even in our darkest moments,mortals barely comapred to the nights where we lost everything to the river card.
we stand strong,silently, on the pillaged sun we obtained from the ronin shogun in deep space battles of spoken word poetry
their gun swords clapped as the snow turned to rain and uneconomical commotities
basking in the awkard ness of the feeling of meeting the only woman you couldent put a ring on...the only one youd ever need too do it to...she becomes this muse of sorts,haunting every stoke of the keyboard and every strike of the pen until theres an abscene of words...and abscense of area of space devoid of worlds...moons...only written music and meditation,the only language and team hurts to know it will never be over until the airplane crashes into the nursery that is full of your future.our future...we walk on only to say and do nothing but smoke spliffs on the platte river,the feeling of the city is electric and were crippled with laughter from the mushrooms we had as we lay on the laps of our family...the friends youve always for...waited days for you to come back to erect a home and share community for.
and still the sun resmains the center of all things related to our quadrent of the universe
much in the same way a sparked peice of paper burns and ignites the kindled fire wood in the cold morning...
I look to her in the most peculiar of ways on,on this most beautiful of days,eating a sack lunch of grapes on a picnic blanket as our skin is covered in delicate UV rays.
I think its the setting,or the sun dress shes wearing,the glare from behind her head shows all smile as the rest of her features blur
I think shes a story,a fable of glourius intentions and beautiful genetics all mixed up into a typhoon of sex,weed,liquor and talking with smoke in and out of these speech riddled cheeks.. until the moonlight is devistated by our own star and we lay motionless and quiet,counting the planes wed seen.the places wed like to have been.
it wasnt till I was back amongst the astronauts I call brothers,in this grand hall of reliving,that I realized the full extent of the day,the words shed said inbetween the questions she had set up for her own reasons and the wordplay we had shared in combat of wits and prejuadeces...
...the party goes on,life if you would,as the gentleman mingle I sit alone and stare at the world,its cold gaze deafened by the blushes from the females with the california gold rush mentality on wealth and happiness pushing their tits out for my attention,
this large bearded man lost in contemplation,dreaning of new ways to acheive greatness,to redefine it at the very least.
id speak but im felling the gravitational weights holding and pulling me in and out of the trophosphere and mountain peaks,pointing my compaus north west towards a ceartin pacific ocean...and still I roam nomadically.
reeling in pain from realizations I know
still she thinks about me as much as I do her.
still matter is formed bent and created by forces we cant describe or control.
still all things live and die no matter how spritely or ancient
yes!,I pledge to talk till your teeth are numb and were wide awake in the morning
pouring coffee over a loaded cannibas pipe and mimosas
let me brush the hair from you eyes darling
we sit quietly and gaze into each others souls,each others worlds,each others hopes and desires for normalcy or constant storms,
this ship I have comenderead turned into a massive civilization on the back of a sea turtle...Im afraid theres not much time left,love.
the revolution is upon us and tonight we dine with lucifer,tomorrow,
amongst the gods.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

building closer hope

this girl i loved...well this woman I know...
broke my soul in a conquest of love...
old notes written days before...scatter this floor...
evidently shes in another mans arms.
I never grew wiser,only older...due to alchohaul...
or the sunlites pastures on the snowcovered peaks peeking over the jagged outline i once considered as land and realize its now "Home." for lack of a better term...
for lack of family or love.
This burning hearts on hold...dial tones...
as I contemplate the next rook placement...all my pawns are eliviated from the board... compass which sways in every direction is always pointed north,
west...where ever I can prove to be less than a God & more than a mortal...elegant with words...for i am no mormon,
nor atheist,agnostic or christian.
simply a wandering heart broken child seeking a vagina to rest in...or worship.
which ever is needed,or lacked...
my bags are packed,im out the door,stealing the quarters from my old friends floor..
ive finally hit rock bottem...the sunday after christmas...sad and way to sober...

the only words ive only said were sermons.
the only words ive ever written were scripture.

I hold the trump card...I just forgot to play it.
Id smile but my teeth continue to grind down into a fine powder,
Im wencing as if the sun is close by,undetoured from the clouds
and a gentle hum from the vents above cools down this shivering body,
im vomiting...I wish it was the whiskey...its this sickness that calls for incompacitating heart murmurs and a forgiveness of sorts...this nomad deserves no symbolance of home
nor a normal life,or lover.
I havent felt this way since highschool,
and even then it didnt feel like losing my mind
I had just began picking up the peices from the speeches of abandonment from my parents
and they understood
I shared everything I had and lost it all to friendship
and a dirty cunt with a hole in her chest
where evil dines in white garments and blood stains..
my brain gives way to fear,and heart break and sadness
a few choice words later,and shes at the doorstep...
im so coheraent its maddning.
as I hear her small awkward footsteps,
and his larger heavy footed stomps
I remember I still have the love note I wrote her crumpled in my pocket...
12 hours little many shots afterward
when I thought she was an angel
,and he a brother
but its good to know they banged it out,
especially from all her old lies
masked by a deciving smile
which were only words at some point,
nothing that meant anything
but deception of the ones who love you..
homewrecker.lost whore on the side of the road. this isnt your city,go home!
but it isnt my city either...
so where do I go?

Saturday, December 25, 2010


new post,
old words
same exact script from the night before.
and by the way
a kid from high school blew out the brains out of his skull..
your bestfriends girlfriends brother chocked in his own vomit.
merry christmas,
you ol scam dog you!
diffrent,but the same as before.
less drugs,
more shit on the carpet.
breakfast with friends,
the same as it begins
it ends...
only more high with less wit..
this couch looks like a nice place to live.
benzodiazepan again.
this old house is a horror
i left a note for my best friend
no pictures
it only read
thanks for the night spent in your bed
no dirty minds
only homeless.
then i begin the long day again

Friday, December 24, 2010

Passport love affair

I swear boys,
these days are getting shorter
sweaters on,
jack daniels gone
and my lovers in the doorway!
shes so beautiful...oh humming bird...
my gorgeous southern belle..
deep hazle eyes detour my attention,
until the air conditener changes vents
Im brought back from her heavinly gaze by the sweet arouma of colorados finest medicinal cannibus.
Im not a paitent,
I just have been known to get around..
getting abandoned where the side walk ends,
lost to jungle cats and gallows lined by the infield wall
balls foul,
games lost
no more world series for my hometown heros..
no more fireworks to egnite love...
so..These american spirits burn slow..
were adults with little to show..
the wind kisses our knuckles and brows as we take shots to the bow
and pulls to the dome.
Love is the little four letter word im notorius for
i guess it just goes to show
no rest for the one who has thunder in his soul
no rest for those with lightning in their words.
no meditation till the days done
and this minutes a century old.

Friday, December 17, 2010

gift box

christmas comes early this year,and with little to no television,or mall visits the weight and spectrum of the ordeal change. A hot meal is a beautiful gift,maybe thats all we NEED,or do we always want somthing? In a generous mood ill get the platoon drunk,and a pizza from B.D's...but its not often these days that I have a penny earnerd nor saved.What a waste of time and space. I need a new opening act,or at least somthing that warrants an encore,or clap. I need to feast on the beings I deam so weak,and give back to those who have given everything for me.Sweet summer nights arent what they used to be,their just like the winter where its as cold as it ought to be. We use to buy firecrackers and throw them in kids lawns,now it seems were pawns just as all of the rest were,working desk jobs and being shop clerks. Fourty hours a week I could have spent reading,or teaching, while most of all learning customs and fourtunes of cluture world wide,but I fear their dissapearing and being globalized before our eyes. No body gives a shit,hell I'll admit I love "seinfeld" and eatin' the "Mcrib",but thats because everyone else does,and in the end,its fun to give in. Buy in with yachts and table cloths of fine linen,where if moths dare,there will be devistation given.Burial plot bidding wars over the grave with the most beautiful scenery so the grandkids can understand his wealth,even in death it seems people are arrogant. Its so scary when you realize that after tonight,it could all be whitewashed then repainted onto a prettier canvas...I do think though,in my humble estimation,that the frame holds not a candle to the origonal print.With all this in tow I start to lecture as if my words are the lords,and I am himself,the holiest of holys.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010


Ive been eximplifying my nomadic status as of late.Last night was spent whiskey drunk on my friends dorm room floor amongst scattered postage stamps and drawings.The metor shower took place during the commercial break for hoarders,thats when a semi dead kid was rolled to the hospital in a computer chair,his friends galavanting and laughing the whole way...the girl with the blonde dreadlocks I had set my sight on leading the errie side of our generations lack of feeling or care. This weekend has been nothing but debauchery,as it seems my life has been since two thousand and seven. It started with my mother and I sharing a bottle of jamesons,driving around colorado springs,remicing on highschool memories,though 30 years inbetween.Adderal,Early Times,Good Times and lots of Star Trek polluted my head as though it had all been said or done before...I love colorado,but fuck do I miss home. Its like that line in orange county thats somthing along the lines of "you can never wait to leave,or return."


Sunday, December 5, 2010

next chapter

Left over heartbreaking moans
the silence groans as if an angel to the heavens
let my bow and arrow show,im not as ignorant as they hoped
Im what they used to remember
a knowledge that glows,illuminated in the faces fate chose
rowing on the river at the request of lovers
only to have them taken out,one by one,as the stars came up on the horizon
and the jungle began pulsing with hollers and laughter
of wild beasts inclined to snap heads off and drink from necks
it had been a long of dry heaving and speechless greiving
the whole base camp had been eaten,all except me
and I was leaning on calling a helicopter home
a vodoo doctor from the forest emerged with the heads of fourty of my comrads
he spoke:
I took the tounge from one of your tribe member,so communication between us was open
I nodded,thought provoked
we need your leadership,and your skills for the life of my self and my sons
so that we can tame the fields as,you are brothers have done
Im sorry for your loss
he tosses the heads without thought
all my colleagues eyes,fixed on me and bloodshot,
I fell down and screamed until my voice went out.
I followed the shaman into the dark

MOON AND WSB:Time Travling Bastards

Moon and I develop this radioactive turntable that shoots gamma rays into space,well anyway we decided one day to go on the roof of our apartment and see if it was capable of inter dimensional tears in the fabric of time and space. It was,god damnit,so we lunged into a time traveling rollercoaster that is loosely based on the "Quantam Leap" series. Im the good looking one,Moon,the guardian. Our first stop was ancient pompay,on the very day of the eruption that decimated the city state,well I wasnt about to be baked by this gelatinous lava lake,so I pulled out a pinner and went to comandear a fishing vessel,giving free joints to all the sinners,seeing if I could truly develop myself as the skanky jesus. I sat on the corner,and rock quardrys of the city,deciding if I should stay here to be a messiah,or at least the towns prettiest bachelor of notarity and scholar. I pondered and pondered and it wasnt till that moment I remembered I should jet the fuck out before this city becomes a wax musem and kinder. Moon telepathiclly reached me,screaming he says "I think I just scored with most beautiful woman...she had hair of snakes that made my dick hard as cement! In fact Im feeling round 42!" Jesus I muttered under my breath as the tiny ship hit the open waters."what a lucky bastard...why do I never get laid." The volcano exploded,at the same time Mr.Moon got medussa preagnut,he could tell,he claimed,by the way her snakes screamed. On the medeterannian sea,I watched the decimation of the once mighty pompay,and then I wrote the very first copy of "Alexander and his no good,very bad day." In which,I played the protaginist of alex,and Mr.Moon created the destruction of my favorite historical city state.


We quantum leaped the next was hot as fuck on that boat and I had to poop,and it seems as though when I need a bowel movement I quantum leap time and space,moon claims he made it that way,I just gave up and belive everything he says. We awoke in 1960s berkley,we both had viles of lsd and pounds of hashish,we didnt question how they got their we just closed are eyes and squealed. We looked like to japanese school girls who won the spelling bee. It was sweet,emeresed in the hippy culture,introducing those assholes to better 21st century weed,and their 20th centruy,circa albert hoffman lsd. We tripped for what seemed like days,until these ladies we met got us into a lenny bruce show without pay and that moment of realization came,we could be stuck here on acid until modern days. Mind you this is pre microwave,pre hydroponic haze! We could barely go an hour without sports center updates,and chris berman is probally currently shitting in his pants,so the only thing logically to do was place bets on everything. We became kingpins of berkely,and soon the bay,making all our money off gambaling and smoking the stash away,I have to admit for a while we had it made. Long days of orgys and showers with flower empowered girls who are probally our friends mothers,or grandmothers...making us possibly our homeboys fathers. This turned us into confused zombies,romaing the streets on heads full of lucy,we came to city lights book store in san fran.Loosely for a little bit we had fancied ourselves as ferlengetti and ginsberg,we wanted to see what they were like in their own time,dropping the prophet status and the glory. We mustered up the courage,and finally walked in,as the time warp fucked us over again.No skanky Jesus returning,to no joining of a now 1800s saloon with all dusty frowns eyefucking my body,and moons too...somehow we had become lawmen of the days of highnoons. Quick and the dead,we shot every one in the room,later explaing we had mistaken some priests as bandits all huddled over the spitoon, a pretty useless murder spree,but we were getting used to the cranage that had ensued. Ever since those acid years,or months,our brains been in orbit around pluto. Which in this western setting was still a planet,yet we were forgeting we needed to vanish,downing shots of the local morphine supply off of the doctor we excecuted was risky buisness especially since his daughter,a lovely waitress at the bar,had been shot by one of our stray bullets.Swigging the morphine,chased by a shot of burbon,I approached the teenage girl and went into speech to try and explain the days events,this morbid scene of rowdy boy reminicents (moon knows what im talking about.we pound fists.righteous shit!) shes sobbing so I brush the hair from her eyes,see those big blue ovals peppered with fear and delight. She grabs my finger and twists it in her sweating palms,fixed on my glare. Asking what are my plans for the night? well,I begin,i guess the laws the fugitive on account of all these executions. She asks to come with,moons so fucked off the medicinal heroin he passes out in his drool.Me and the dame carry him out to a few painted horses. We ride threw the night,south colorado,west texas bound. We stop over in santa fe,set up camp on the outer limits of the new mexican town. I apologize for taking her fathers life,explain my story. We laugh and cry. We make love all night as moon keeps rolling his body into the fire,letting out hoots and hollerins

I explain to her I want this to be the rest of my life...I wake up on the pavement of a synogoge,groggy and hungover,Mr moons vomiting in the bushes,as a rabbi pats his back,just then the 5.0 show up and step in...

we will continue some point or some shit

how the milita formed


dads falling asleep on the couch,
its a cold sunday afternoon in december
soundtracked by a symphony of wind.
Down the hatch,lads.
another gentlemans glass of scotch for the walk threw the winter
home for time spent buzzed with the children
telling 'em stories years past their bedtimes
having them fall asleep to gunshots
wizzing past their heads in twilight

the street light peers between the branches,
shattered glass accent the carpet
as their father sobs in the adjacent room

sleep well...i guess.

mothers off her medicene
telling dad how much she loathes him,
how these bastard sons will be a spitting image of
a maggot feeding on dead skin.

the boys listen and try as hard as they can to dream with their eyes open.

intermission (enters depression from stage left.)

At night
Dead Silent plight for the next day to be alright
clutched tears in watery eyes
hibernation by design.
suicide note tucked in his best sunday vest.
moms covered in blood,
shes screaming inaudible words.

the children seem to lay awake for the remainder of their lives.

new dad. new city
new sailor shorts for summer.
new teachers.
new lovers.
No drama.
No baby mamas,no jobs,
New pops a CEO of international conglamerats
moms got her wine and kolanapin.
weekly visits from ol pop pop
the father of the bastard one
showing the little youth how to work shotguns and chainsaws.
make pipe bombs and maltovs.
preaching only vengence in his reteric.

he passes more weekly life episodes of learning or copeing.

festering deep agonizing reinvesments of prioritys and life.

community college.

full time jobs.

full time girlfriends whos occupations are blowjobs.

Party Scene.

minor dabbling in THC



( lost period of time for a year or 3)

minor dealing.

First Kill.


Organized crime on a massive scale.

decapitations...scalping...grand larsonry...

hell on earth literally.

National Scare.

Articles in Time and Us Weekly.

Tax Laws.

Drug Laws.

Jealous Shadow Government.


sentenced to 200 consecutive lives
the best way to live for eternity,

the boys decided

a poetic way to never have to look at their father in his heartless eyes

no heaven,no jesus

their demons live forever,

laughing in the echo of the rooms of jail cells and the graveyards which hold recess

retelling the story
to generations of boys
doomed to make the same foolish act of never learning

to not hold grudges to the dead and burning

or never sleep threw all of eternity.

never give up on purity.

(epilogue of repreive:shining a light onto our subjects.By famous Novelist _____ ______)

They stand as Ahab did,with feet crossed and words soft,as the MDs place their dad onto the stretcher.They watch them wheel him into the ambulance,elegantly and with grace, until the left wheel breaks and their fathers body slips and shakes onto the pavement.Their mother in the doorway faints,falling onto an officer doing the report on the night. The boys see their fathers face for the last time in their life,as he sits up right,with his neck propped on the ambulances backside,smirking and stairing to the heavens with a bullet between his eyes

Neither shed a tear

neither say a word


They waste their life as an ultimate spite to the god

their father gave his life for.

Thanks be thy lord,all men are holy in the site of the church.

Thursday, December 2, 2010


Im astonished at all the white people who use the N word like a term of enderement and friendship,its amazing what a few centurys can do.ANYWHO,how you guys doin? Im doing is around the bend,and shit,who dosent love consumerisum? Really I mean I love filling stocking with losing lotto tickets from the year know a sort of reflection thing.IN my younger days I just filled 'em with old cigarette butts and what not...but not anymore,oh no,Ive wised up. You know whats intresting? living off quarters. No,really,I mean like seriously living of quarters...eating dollar cheeseburgers and tortillas for breakfast,lunch and dinner...jesus I love december! It hasent snowed once in Denver,not really once this year...its errie really,I feel like I brought TEJAS up here,which I mean is really for the good of the people. Red robin sounds amazing...patty melt grilled cheese,grilled onions and bacon...

anyway,The Chinese Stars are my BOTW

PS I saw a turkey fall off a roof today...amazing. 18 pounds of skined and defeathered raw flesh plummiting to a juicy god it was incredible! It made me so hungry,as evidence by the previous paragraph.

I miss drivers ed.