Safety Pins

this is my favorite time of day
indulge me
when everything is quiet
because we're all in our boxes
driving home from work
loosening the necktie
rolling up the sleeves
listening to NPR
on our way to our boxes
honking and pissed
sitting in traffic
smoking cigarettes
and holding our piss
our bladders crying
this is my favorite time of day
to sit outside for a bit
because this place feels empty
and that's exactly how i like it
later maybe
a few drinks and some laughter
but for right now
i can look out the window
and not have to say anything
to anyone
about nothing

Theres Already Two in Here, i Don't Need One More

i can see in your skin
it's leaking
foaming at the mouth
devouring everything in site
the crickets roar
the small plants grow
and all of us sleep
even when awake
our baggage to heavy to handle
when really
oh really
it means nothing
on this side of it
i laugh
how serious
how caring
laughter is the only way
for any of this to be worth bearing
everyday
wake up
coffee
shower
shit
shave
drive
cigarette
work
cigarette
work
work work work work woriwkorkwrowjkrljwlkrwjrwrwkrowrkworkwor
shit.
between those times
outside
it's appreciated
things that i can touch
realistically
are beautiful things
that i cannot share with anyone
except the few chosen
to be shit on

Comma, Dash, oh No....

theres this thing in me
growing and manifesting
drying out with the sun
and growing with the early morning chill
theres this thing in me that never smokes
never drinks or dies
the thing that lets me make the right choices
know when to try
when to walk
and most importantly
when to say
"fuck it, lets do the thing"
theres this thing in me
that pisses on everyone
in my head
the thing that doesn't want to come out
because this world has too many assholes already
you don't need another one
a decision is made even before
i make a move
theres this thing in me that doesn't let me be me
a thing that taste like victory
every time i bring a different girl a flower
every time i cook a different girl good food
every time i do something for someone
not even half worth it
theres this thing in me that will make me happy alone
but never find happiness in someone else
and thats sad
but in this all
you spend most of your time alone
someitmes with a passenger in the car i don't speak
not because i have nothing to say
but because i have nothing to say
to you
right now
none of this is based on hate
but all based on comfort
i feel good in here
and i don't need unoriginal macho energy
i don't need a fashion sense
i don't need to be something in the scene
because i am real here
honest and true
but none of you want that
you ask for it
but want blood!
you all want fucking blood!
i can give it to you
but who wants to live in misery their whole lives?
not me
maybe you?
and that's whats really sad
even beyond my wall

Scheduled Outage at 2am

why i like bukowski.

i don't like him because he says cunt
or shit, pussy, dick and hard on
i don't like him because he's "nasty", "raunchy" or
"different"
listen to the man
maybe,
once,
he was just a guy
who could see through the shit of all this
and laugh
he thought maybe if he stuck
to what he knew was right,
he'd win
he was probably a nice guy young
traveled the land
made some bar friends
hung around,
saw it all,
and never tasted victory
so he dropped it all one day
in a bar
"that looks like a nice bar to take a shit in"
the man never came out the same
so he became what you all wanted to hear
"shit with a hard on, you dirty cunt"
half the time he meant it
the other half, he laughed at himself
for he became what he never wanted
even when he sold out
he bought in
why i like bukowski?
his poems of love
bluebird
his description of simple events
shared with emptiness
finding happiness in small affordable
even free things
the man was persistent
fair
and above else
honest
that's more than i can say for all of us
so in the end,
maybe he was a drunk, stupid old man
but he never took a shit on anyone
who didn't deserve it

Sparkle Motion

it's laughable
the way this plays out in my eyes
while everyone in this place sleeps
i walk around like a goddamn ghost
stubing my toe
its hard to concentrate with all this peace
with everyone sleep walking
around me
wheres the action?
what happened to all the hype?
what happened to the things we did
just the other night?
double down
you ask for this and you take from that
just a vehicle for your means
it's sad
a sorry sorry state
a sorry sorry place to live in
but either kill yourself off
be bought off
or stand alongside
others like you
and laugh
laugh at all of this passive agressiveness
laugh at the dying creatures of the world
as they pass you on their way to their coffins

Hand me Downs

cigarettes and purple velvet
vegan insurance
and the moths float around my halo
tenth house teeth district
bite down
open your windows to let a little air in
stale dead air we both sit in
lengthly conversations about
about
about amusement
the fingers reach for the bottle
one for the mask, and one for the penetration
one for the chipper mood and remote injection
leaning back, placing hands behind my head
the sweat gathers in puddles
this empty bed
those hollow empty eyes
where nothing upon nothing
upon nothing and nothing and nothing and nothing
ever goes on
dance clown!
make a funny face
tell me a joke clown,
tripping over floppy feet and make up running
your deodorant smells like dog piss
thats a fact

Frankie Wilde

Everybody knows where you go,
When the sun goes down.
I think you only live,
To see the lights of town.
I wasted my time,
When I would try, try, try.
'Cause when the lights have lost their glow,
You'll cry, cry, cry.

Soon your sugar-daddies,
Will all be gone.
You'll wake up some cold day,
And find you're alone.
You'll call for me,
But I'm gonna tell you, "Bye, bye, bye."
When I turn around and walk away,
You'll cry, cry, cry.

You're gonna cry, cry, cry,
And you'll cry alone.
When everyone's forgotten,
And you're left on your own,
You're gonna cry, cry, cry.

I lie awake at night,
To wait till you come in.
You stay a little while,
And then you're gone again.
Every question that I ask,
I get a lie, lie, lie.
For every lie you tell,
You're gonna cry, cry, cry.

When your fickle love gets old,
No one will care for you.
You'll come back to me,
For a little love that's true.
I'll tell you no,
And then you'll ask me, "Why, why, why?"
When I remind you of all of this,
You'll cry, cry, cry.

You're gonna cry, cry, cry,
And you'll want me then,
It'll hurt when you think of,
The fool you've been.
You're gonna cry, cry, cry.