and you're listening to.. Los Angeles

...

be my lush
and i'll be your drunk
we can both pretend like everything is okay
we can dance when there's no music
make love sunrise to sunset
and i'll wake up in the morning to make you coffee
and we'll share that first cigarette
but.
alas
people don't need love
they need success in some form of another
it can be love, but it doesn't have to be
people don't need religion
if they can believe in themselves
it's awful to give someone hope
some dream of a place better than this
a fake, sorrow filled story to transfix
it's horrible for someone to lie
because their reasoning is to keep from hurting
when your lie hurts twice as much as the truth
but you don't know anything about that do you?
people don't need television
if they weren't so afraid of their own thoughts
scared of small beast infecting their brains
gnawing on their hairless skulls
devouring, injecting, fornicating, fucking and sucking
frightened of modesty or morality
of virtue and lunacy
but they're not afraid to be victims
i haven't heard "i'm Sorry" muttered from a woman's mouth since i can remember
and i'm talking genuine, sincere, truthful sorry
which is asking alot
but somehow
in their twisted brains
they don't see the actions they take
or they rather remain oblivious to them
or maybe it doesn't matter?
perhaps i'm being a bit cynical
which is the typical role of the drunk correct?
ironic: none of you remember me
but i make it a point to remember you
that's all i have
you know what i love?
asking for your phone number in the goofiest way possible
bringing flowers that i picked especially for you
dancing together to the music in my head
showing up on your doorstep at 2am with a six pack of tecate
cooking you dinner from scratch
babying you when you're sick
feeding you gummy bears
putting my hand on the back of your neck as we walk down the street
running my hands through your hair
licking that nice piece between your earlobe and shoulders
rubbing your feet
acting bewildered
letting you feel independent
goodnight text
and good morning text
and we ramble like penguins
in the dysert
good night kiss
and good morning kiss
no matter how bad your breath stinks
whats funny
what makes me laugh down into my soul
is the things i enjoy the most, are never done to me
i take pleasure, great pleasure, in putting that smile on your face
whats the true laughing of the gods
is the ones who actually check this thing
this online "blog" (which is also bullshit)
are woman
woman
my biggest audience
my greatest delight
yes
my vice

L'Orchestre

and the sky fell out from under him
he dabbled briefly
in her napping icons
briefly
they wept together trying to stay young
digging their nails into each others back
both afraid that they sky would fall out from under them
and she was waiting for him
to drop
as he was waiting for her
to drop
small world isn't it
yes
nice to see you again
yes
we've all had too much to drink at one time or another
uh huh
and you are
strange boy
not strange
just young and drunk
i began to wonder if you were real
or just a dream
terribly unsure
very
very
slick
think fast as the rattle of ice cubes as they hit the glass
pulling the cork out of the rum bottle
not bothering to mix anymore
and i must persevere in whatever I'm doing
no matter how hopeless it seems
you think of everything
and she kept telling me
love is no more than the touching of skin
she cried when i left her
and i hated it
i hated the breaking up of things
the departure
the disruption
and i wore a suit for the occasion
which you eventually vomited on
as we stumbled home from the bar
all down my good side
right after we drew a mustache on Hello Kitty
with fire engine red lipstick
that came from your purse
when only earlier that week
i had drawn a hitler mustache on that same Kitty
on some other stumbling night
and i still kissed you
vomit mouth and all
sweaty forehead and all
sick and all
because
if you really see somebody inside
if you really.. truly are on the road to love
you accept
bad cigarette breath
ugly toes
maybe their ass doesn't curve they way you want
you accept them
wholehearted
without question
so we're back to here
waiting for the sky to fall out from under him
but not him
from under her
because midway through this
he realized her problem
her dilemma
is
she has never felt any true pain
which did not directly correspond to her own interest
nothing had ever left her
nothing had ever beat her
nothing had ever devoured her
nothing had ever touched her inside
other than an item that would lead her
to a higher ground
her father never beat her
and her mother never locked her in the bathroom
for extended periods of time
she never saw her mother cry
as dads fist came down into her face
and she never threw herself in between them
because she could never love
and.
and.
and i take it they were born under the right sign
if you rule by the stars,
you don't find it responsible in the things you do
it's the "current"

for every deep push one shall return, pushing farther and farther into you. and without any kind of expectations of limitations there is no let down, if there is no let down, there is no hurt. and we all don't want hurt. for every gift give 2 more and expect nothing more than what you're giving, and don't expect at all. the key to anything is to be into everything that's involved in that anything and love it for it's ugly parts the most, the beautiful parts second, and the numb parts last. instead of spreading thin and trying too much, reaching too far, being too much, and doing many things half heatedly, find 2 or 3 things worth mastering, that engulf you like that first caffeine high at the start of day. it begins in your calves and works its way up your knees, and washes over you like a wave of gin, like the hot breeze, the first hit off the cigarette and the last hit off the bottle, first kiss after the long fight, the cool side of the pillow on a hot night.
i can do this forever
and i will
i respect what i have and don't want too much more
everyone says comfortable
comfortable for some people is having furniture imported from the south of France
comfortable for me is now
i have wants and needs, desires and shallow dreams that come in and out of plain view, but alas i know who i am and what i'm capable of, so i reach further each time, but am not scared to fall back knowing that wherever i fall, i have it in me to dust myself off and come right back
full force
and now i leave you
temporarily
so when you wake up
rejoice
and
do-re-mi

Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for your own joy
Submissive to everything, open, listening
Try never get drunk outside your own house
Be in love with your life
Something that you feel will find its own form
Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
Blow as deep as you want to blow
Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
The unspeakable visions of the individual
No time for poetry but exactly what is
Visionary tics shivering in the chest
In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
Like Proust be an old teahead of time
Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
Write in recollection and amazement for yrself
Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
Accept loss forever
Believe in the holy contour of life
Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
Don't think of words when you stop but to see picture better
Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
You're a Genius all the time
Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven

- thank you jack
and cody

tonight
we both sat motionless in the midst of everything
both staring
at the sad, sorry ceiling
like if the answers were hidden in the tiles
i saw you smile twice in my general direction
as he was off to the bathroom
but i didn't acknowledge your razor stare
tearing into me
i'll call you once
i'll call you twice
and i'll be your midnight man
it's no fun this way
at least not now
after i've been all across your symphony
somewhat deranged
and you leave even before i get the chance
to offer you a stay
but everyone's hanging around your place
so you have to get home and show your face
i'll never see you again
and i want some of that gain
but to you i'm just
a midnight man

And I WIll Continue To...

lots of maybes
lost of because
my wants + needs=
no malarkey
consistency
i understand your movements
understand mine
compromise?
serious love triangle
you cum here
as much as i cum there
you give 1
for my every 2
it seems very middle of the road
i always meet halfway
at least in my eyes
there's lots of pride built up in this place
i know
which way i move
which way i do
which way i touch
which way i caress
will be right
and i'll keep running through all of you
until one of you
you
prove my fight
the struggle is half the battle
the brick is all the battle
when you concentrate on one
that's usually the one
that will let you down
when you spread yourself thin
you don't give yourself
to any of it.

once i push far
i want more
and each time
i push a little farther
to replicate the original feeling
because it was that good
i want it to last
to put it in my pocket and hold on to it
to feel
like i felt before

Round Dos

i can't express
your unbeknown shiftiness
i wanted to say shitiness
but the English language spell check refuses to acknowledged
"shit"
as a word
sad
i don't think any of you will ever understand what it's like
to look into someones face and feel constant liar
constant bullshit
constant
constant
constant
constant
immediate
lack of consideration
i must write this down
or one day
i'll walk out of the kitchen
with paco's aluminum bat held tight in my hands
and go after the mirrors
go after the beer tab
go after the sangria glass
and break it all apart
sometimes nothing would make me happier
than throwing a chair through a plate glass window
theres love in here somewhere
and i hide it well
i'm waiting
wondering
hoping
for the next one
to show me that this isn't all so sick
to prove that maybe what i'm thinking
isn't so bad after all
maybe i just need a hug
a stupid small sign of affection
something to show me that this place
isn't filled with horrible people
like i think it is
maybe i just need someone to drop their shit
like i dropped mine
but you always prove me wrong
fuck it
i'm young
maybe this is just now
and that's cool
i guess

of Freaking Course

of course you like this
you like that
you like how everything fits in this nice little basket
everything "neat"
if i were to choke
and die
right at this time
i wouldn't deny
anything i ever said
you know me
i don't hide anything
i put it all out there
and its sad that people don't have the balls
to be themselves
to withstand the current of bullshit
washing over you
and why is this place filled with so many shitty people?
especially the ones that say they are "good"
happen to be the worst off of them all
i don't support any causes
because in all of them
is a little nazi in the leaders heart
and i don't support nazi's
or hypocrites
or plagiarism
or unoriginal thought
or stupid macho energy
or bullshit that is said to say to help people who want to say something
take a second
look through your lens
everything around you is destructible
and we have no choice but to live here
we have to
have to
HAVE TO
live here
so we can either die off into the air
or come to terms with this constant
immediate
definite
burden
die slow
sleep tight
live hard
and push your face against the plate glass
and taste skin
it's been awhile
come back cody
i miss you

I Am Only Entertainment

in everything worth thinking about
i ask, "where is this going?"
some precious items
for which I'd give a piece of my soul
are tools using tools
devices for our minds to convince ourselves
who's wrong and who's right
for everything not worth anyone
i ingest what is needed
to make me whole again
and just like the ones before
i move to the left
and let you fall
off
this cliff
then you wonder why
i
let you
be caught by someone else
who will just as fast let you go
after they've taken exactly what they want
and you've been drained of anything
that makes you whole
but alas
it is my own fault
for choosing the faulty
and i know why
because you give me something to write about
you prove everything that I've ever assumed
is correct
your opinions change like the weather
your soul is nonexistent
your desire lays directly inline with your own greed
with your own emotional well being
with your own mistakes
which are not necessary for you to execute
if you were a person
with some kind of conscious or moral value
or value at all for that matter
so it's sad for me to look in those eyes
one after another
and see the same things
see the same apathy
the exact hollowness right down into your heart
which is sour as rotten apples
and who am i to talk out of mouth?
divulge all the information that will turn you away
because its the truth
and you know it
but you drink and dance
and want to feel out of control
in order to blame others for your own faulty wiring
"should i feel bad?"
yes
fuck you
and
it's like you're all in line
to get hit with the brick of truth
and i won't be scared to throw the first one
right into your dead eyes
because you don't fucking feel anyway
right?
right.

and We Pass Like Strangers in the Hallway

we sat with our backs to the cold wall
venetian blinds dividing
jabbing into our skulls
we were
barely recognizable
cheap white wine bottle between our naked bodies
as the cave singers yelped
mutual admiration
i got up and took the bottle
put my clothes on and proceeded to
run the bath for you and light some candles
and as you slipped that sweet tasting naked body in
i remained in my clothes
"get in"
"uh huh.. you relax.. i'll scrub.."
shooting me a glance
half believing, half weary, half tempted to laugh
but you remained
naked in the bath
sitting down, i put my back up against the wall and lit a cigarette
and
you reached over, pulled it out of my mouth and took a drag
passing it back
both the cigarette and bottle
you told me about your past
i listened intently, discovering how you and i weren't really all that different
running parallel to each other
i scrubbed you softly
running my hands all over that smooth skin
running my hands up your chest to the back of your neck
wrapping my hands around the back of your neck
squeezing ever so hard
until you'd whimper
small and sweet
and tremble under my hand
looking up at me with those big brown eyes
cigarette still clenched in my teeth
i felt like i was made of wood and wire

no time now
leave the most points
remember this time

well.. Theres That

and i feel sick
i watch the monkey bang the symbols in his brain
as he works over the solution
so carefully planned out
and becoming the nuisance
becoming obnoxious
becoming real
i drop
everything that i believed
was what i felt
before
always feeling two steps from the finish line
i never get to complete what i always thought was
mine
too soon
in my head it all seems so simple
see what you want
go and do it
the time in between is spent infatuated with what seems alright
but while i lay
alone
at night
i shrivel and chill
shake around like ice cubes in the glass
waiting for the drink to make me feel
alright
no arguments
no kind of waiting time
no desire to be wanted
i want it as it wants me
so essentially we're both parasites
devouring organisms around us
devouring people
eating us all the while we think we're still alive
and i feel sick
above this
i feel tired
tired of runaways putting up all kinds of fronts
tired of these unknowns always wanting what isn't in front
of their eyes
but i know i'm weak
and as soon as the phone rings
i'll pickup
and be the midnight man
driving fast across the city
with a cigarette danging from my lips
and as i watch the parking enforcement signs
i lock my doors
kill the switch
chew some gum
and
i feel sick
so
i walk around
warm and tight
waiting for the one
but
i'm
always two steps from the finish line

The Green Phone and God Part II

the phone rang just now
the green phone
the rotary phone
the dead phone
it was god on the other end
i really couldn't understand what he was saying
receiving only bits and pieces
i could decipher this:
"peanuts... almonds... testicles.. home.. where do we start? uncle... i'm not getting cut... yooo hooo....."
haywire
i asked my uncle what he thought of my situation
he said it's, "okay"
i asked him if i was making the right moves?
he said, "they're okay"
i asked him what he thought of this girl
he said, "she's okay"
"uncle"
"yeah?"
"whats with all the okays?"
"you don't understand do you?"
"eh?"
"none of what you're asking matters"
"eh?"
"if you have to ask, i shouldn't tell you. you know already.. so don't waste our time"
"are you saying that what i'm saying to you is what i already know?"
.......
..
.
.

Less TV

it's quiet
way too quiet
quiet enough
go home
come back tomorrow
and maybe i'll have something for you
but today
quiet
crickets
sprinklers
ice hitting glass
pour
type poor

Why Don't We Take a Walk First

sometime when i was 16
my father asked me to take a ride with him
i sat in the passenger seat
submerging myself in the tan interior
of the big Dodge Diplomat
hanging my arm out of the window
while dad drove
cigarette hanging from his lips
we stopped at the liquor store
and he bought himself a tall can
and a carton of eggs
then we pulled off to the side of the parking lot
and we both got out
"i'm going to teach you how to drive"
"okay"
shit i thought
i was extremely nervous
first off because i was a nervous kid
that's about it
i was a nervous kid
i am a nervous kid
i got in and he leaned over and buckled me up
cigarette still hanging from his lips
he took the eggs and placed them in two paper bags
one bag he placed between my chest and the seat belt
the other he placed between my legs
as he got in the passenger seat, he cracked his beer
instructions were given
the part i remember most was this:
"i want to you drive slow, get used to her, feel her in your finger tips, once you have that in you and it feels natural, press the gas a bit, feel it out, let it open up, speed up.. but always remember those eggs. the eggs between your legs. protect your nuts. don't be a turkey."

i drove home tonight with a paper bag full of eggs between my legs
and didn't even think about them being there
it felt natural
i appreciate it when the pure things in life
come natural
it's as if the universe is smiling down on me
nodding its head
saying
"hey man, you're alright"
damn right

For Temporary Relief

i want to eat down on all fours with my dog
slurp at the water and lick myself
put my foot throught the tv
and knowing my luck
die from electricution
ha
ha ha
ha ha ha
anyway
don't mind me
doctors orders
have you ever taken a second and thought about this time?
your routine
eat, sleep, work, work, eat, sleep, drink drink, work sleep eat.
no matter where you drive
nothing drives you
nothing harnesses you, nothing erupts inside of you
no love
no shame
i try not to think of the repetative motions of this
it'll depress the hell out of you
it'll tear a hole in you
that no amount of booze, sex, love, or food will ever fill
but there are nice things here
beautiful moments that wash my eyes
fall over me like the sensation of release
and i double down
and lie on the floor
stare into space
and spasm
i can't tell you about those
because then you'll know
and kill them
same as with every lovely thing thats been created so far
same as with every unique music, film, or movement
it reachs critical mass
everyone sucks the goodness out of it
and then it becomes corporate
and the love is taken out of it
finally its parade across our eyes
like some kind of side show freak,
on this fucking TV!
that i want to put my foot through
which will then kill me
repetative isn't it?

Hit and a Mrs. (you keep calling me)

to pretend
to fit in
you can't sit still
so you find other conversations to join
opinions are vague
disillusion
talk about protection
and defiance
like rats chewing through phone cords
limping raccoon
raccoon eyes
hold your cocktail
puff up your cheeks
roll your eyes
adjust your dress
watch me
watching you
make moves
then over to me
place your hand alongside mine
a quick brisk
i shouldn't be here
at this "mixer"
but you're buying all the drinks
so i guess that's alright
keep feeding me those rum and cokes
and i'll keep listening
i think you think i think others think your sexy
and you are
those long legs sticking out from under your business suit
your hair hanging over that one weird eye
you always smell like fresh printed copies
from a xerox machine
it's kinda cute
kinda.
but
those soft hands with red painted nails
as you rub them across my back
trying to make this a comfortable situation for me
but it's not
and
i just can't bring myself
to be around you for more than 5 minutes
without drifting off into some corner
into some other chair
i haven't pissed this much in my life
i guess it's my bodies way of escaping
these short haired jerk-offs in suits
with shiny shoes
and watch chains
and cuff links
and ugly pastel ties
i'm tempted to wipe the sun dried tomato/chive butter from this cracker
on the suit
and whenever i drift
you come afloat
and drag me into hell once again
i can't wait until you go home
to your husband
and tell him about all the opportunities you conjured tonight
all the "networking" you did
all the new "connections" and "aspirations" you have
i can't wait for you to ask me if i enjoyed this
...

Bring in the Clowns

the bottom of this felt like the top of her. it was a pleasure to hear the knocking sounds coming from television, i scooted over and wrapped my arm around her, she laid her head against my chest. i was sauced, this was alright. we kept drinking. for every one i had one. i started pouring them with a little less Dr. Pepper. she didn't seem to mind. the candy cane was starting to dissolve in her cup, i threw a few more life savers in there for her, she always liked the red ones. you always liked the red ones didn't you? i was neither here nor there for the red ones. they're nice, but the red, green, yellow, and whatever other color taste all the same, and you know it, it's a trick your mind plays on you, telling you the red taste like watermelon or berries, and the green taste like apple, it's bullshit and we know it!

she started getting a little angry, i could see her eyes narrow, her inward seething, i could she some steam billowing out of her ears, i think she was mad that i had made it in, all the defenses put up, all the "i don't cares", were really, "i'm too scared to care", it's easier to not lose if you don't ever play the game. i'm not scared of losing, i just don't want to be on the sidelines watching all the action, wishing i was in there, the potential to get hurt, but there's also the potential for victory. hurt is hurt, victory is love.

it's hard to win
especially when you don't try

i don't know what happened to me.

but i dislike people
most people
some people i like
some of you are alright
sometimes
i miss people for the good things
then i remember why i don't talk to those certain people anymore
and i still smile
because it's true
the best ones are crazy
the worst ones are here
the okay ones never touch ground
head
in
the
clouds

i'll tell you what though

i'll laugh hard the day my bullshit gets proven wrong

maybe i am wrong?
i think i might be?
nah
not like this. i've dodged alot of bullets. i've been lucky. thanks baby.

she was angry though. and when we started fooling around she used words like
"eat that fucking pussy"
and
"you gonna give me that dick?"

maybe some guys dig that
but i'm secure with what i got going on
so lets not pretend okay?

lots of questions have been coming around here lately, and i'm all for new experiences, but i miss myself.

now that's selfish.

Lately

and lately
everything frustrates me
the coffee spilling on my pants
the cigarette ash blown on my shirt
the morons around me
the apathy in their eyes
that scowl
people not holding doors open for other people
douche bag honking at grandma crossing the street to hurry up
people not making good on their word
me me me
blah blah blah
fucking alex
get out of your head
because this anger
gets you nowhere
where you going?
nowhere.
whats a guy to write about if he ever becomes completely happy?
no one wants to read happy, self serving bullshit.
you all want blood
you want a fucking riot
drink, sex, heart break, anger, love, passion, electricity, struggle, war, destruction and pain
somebody needs to do something
i can hear my typewriter whimper at night
shes lonely
misses my fingers
my stiff fingers dancing all over her
the coffee cup circle
on my desk
sits empty
i hear you baby
just hold on
i'll be back soon
soon enough
and i'll fuck you
like the worlds going to end
like my last words will be on you
but
i'm at a peak now
but on the way down
it'll be sweet to write about

Everybody Wants to Feel Special

Standing on the corner
occupying my pockets
with my sweaty hands
and flies
shoved inside my wallet
With my pant cuffs rolled high
and I'm waiting for the tide,
to recede into the moon
and let me stand on earth

but the people pass on
with their heads down and wink
and to feel numb i keep drinking,
sipping from my flask
consuming the flies
the rum taste fine
while i keep sleeping
and outside
the world keeps passing me by,
but i don't mind riding
the back seat to life

Sally walks up
and takes a hold of my jacket collar
kissing me deeply
she swallows my inability
to produce sincere laughter
and inside i spark
but she'll never know
because things like that
aren’t allowed out into the air
because they’ll lose value

riding on the train
watching the mountains grow
i think to myself about
how long it takes
to move a hipster west
we pass into a valley
and as the boulders fall
and smash against the car
i open my arms
and
welcome the growing silence

I Was Expecting Rain

rubbing my face,
harsh against the glass
being somebody
nobody.
watching as the leprechauns migrate around me
waiting for my one slip
my one mistake
so they could rob me blind
and beat me
upstairs
god how it hurts
the pain throbs at the windows
the glass bleeds slowly
a shit load of glass hammers
beating the stuffing out of us
us
we
you
me
i
key
uh oh.

Deny ME.

down on suppression plant
leaves breath
quick change mind
i don't mind
below all else
like nothing else
below your sweet stench
i live
like
a mother
fucking demon
.
oh.
yes

It's Not Glamours Work

sew me up
as i lose my stuffing
my inner fiber
the demented dollar
even the peanut butter is melting
separating
in it's can
losing its sustainability
questioning it's moral ethic
even the peanut butter melts
and
and
the dye was cast

Dougal sat there, grinning, stupid wide mouth grin, town fool, town drunk, town crier.