insides and out

a turtle’s diamond breath hardened my edges. then its attitude in a green goo form put me in a hot damn pan of secret sizzle. the turtle wrote poetry, too, which on each word wheezed did melt those fortunate to survive it into a cloud lava a ping trill that convulses the ear lobes. my chirrup beamed from your belly out the turt’s chomp reamed my god it hurled actual syrup. what’s up with this green body of a shell? swims like a tuna and it screams like a bell. here’s the catch,

            I fooled you, I’m a great liar

and you should have seen the hook on your face

planet hopper

moved to a nother planet over night
radios do not reach me a nymore
thinking about it, pictures being taken down
earth in my window, i could come back down


the snow comes down, fills in the empty spaces but
i still have a lot of craters in my logic
"God is the breath of your breath"
is my breath a
loud ebonic crowd
or a
calm white audience


with this, you feel the last of my hand and then im out the door.. my exit exists free
my loudspeak sirens, the skeletons gather round
"to the best ones out there:
stick to me please i am phlegmatic"

a struggle to keep the..... , ill be liked by others if i can

tossed aside
left to pick up the pieces'\

\sleep til its bedtime
a dream's safer than awake sadness';/

/what a withdraw
from everything that means'';/

\thiis sucks blows is shitty
aint so bad wont last forever'///. i dont know about that

\[single and free
or broken and alone
\
\nude with
nobody to hold']..death scarier now

=hold on n on n on
i mite hav her back ,o mxltsya -one day////

///
//
/bitter ending
her, married before me, could be could be!

suck it up\ tears in the sky
spit it out\tears on the road
nothing to talk about\tears in a pillow

move on/stay behind
lonesome torn thought repeat lonesome torn thought reminds
im still alive

tossed aside and left alive
wish i was to blame
stuk in mud and the car wont start
wish you were here with me

wherever i leave


theres more on my mind, but.........

bellybuttonkisses

         Kulture
         Kills.
that's  Krazy

When you interrupt the storyteller

child: blah blah blah Blah Blah
--Adult: let me interrupt you there. that was actually
blah blah blah Blah Blah
--child: wait! i have a story too Blah Blah blah blah.
Adult: good point, kid

The poem starts like this

That morning I shat like excavating a pharaoh’s tomb. It really shook me.
Thinking I could peel back the eyelids and open her

Like a pharaoh’s tomb, she would lay a trap pillow I’d fall into.

When I woke up, scratching my ass,

I found her cookbooks on the couch. Why can’t

I stay on one string of ideas.dumb.

Write for a few minutes, expect gold.

Write an hour, get a sack of coal.dumb.

Evening Prayer

Evening Prayer

Today I slept 5 minutes in. When the floor of the bed shook hands and

parted ways with my ass, the tea was ready. Today I wobbled. When

moving my 45% couch across the house, I was really sitting. When

today came around, it’s tomorrow. It’s all ready- the baked pastries-

tomorrow.

Do whatever you want

to me. I like what you do.

I’m a fan of your work, I mean. disembody

poetry was all moving

It’s today that spends the night

to munch tomorrow’s toast, a fleeting

owl poetry. The undergoer that can pulse

in the crescent of sprinkler hoses

is potent rude. look at poetry,  even creepycrawlers beat a retreat from

that poetry.

The words the Wordword words are bloated and

frozen. Today I slept skinny.

A comer and a goer in and out my doors,

jerry and gary, and the troggs too,

Smelling cigars is somebody’s hobby

somewhere somebody’s hobby smelling cigars What a backwards line somebody’s hobby somewhere hobbying the smelling of cigars. oh here’s one, cigars of the hobbyists’ delight smell those cigars like it is  somebody’s business, you know the smelling of cigars. this energy

                                                is limitless.

hid in a box, cigars from dad. a serious subject

because it is personal. The page is a battlefield.(alright, make an analogy) I’m not ready to command these troops across the poem.

it shouldn’t be alive

My poem requires ideas of juice ideas that juiceignite. This is basically a cold care kit.(borrowed language) Smelly slippers.(distraction. gary is a name I’d like but I don’t want any government to know how it is Skinny under a blanket of name. reader, don’t forget

your capItalizaTion.

Deargod,

What was I saying? Right, “Tobacco ads spread like cancer” on DVD  VHS  pie

charts. Thanks.

Suspiciously,

Chrle Epstn, bloated and frozen

friends won't last forever

people disappear even faster

the darkest tattoo is a lover

oo oo slippity sloo

i got a slimy song for you

fick ficuc fum kuf

leave your things in the truck

rectang fella hey foor ray A

smell it jell zit tell me thangs

oo Oh a grey toe

what'd you find on sale?