Monday, November 30, 2009

Things box and water is irreversible
He went to get up
He turns his faces into wall
Things try like something said
Blossoms expect it and fall


A few crows boil then glow
Fuck if I know
Shy sex
Cures my hangover
The voice terrifies to exhale repeated


Encircle me like a thing alive
Behold the twin-faces of an all-destroying time
Return from whence you came and
See how long you can survive
A steady flow of honeys inspires fanatics worldwide
The sound of frogs is the pond
Ruin everything you are

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Lovesong From A Lost Love

Verse 1:

I am the deli queen. Yes I am.
Shove my face with ham in a can.
I swallow seven knockwursts inna single swig.
Just let me know when your cock is my gig.


Weenie mania, hot dog me baby! Hollow your meat whole and
Never let go! You are my wonderful mouth of slimy pole.

Verse 2:

I was born on a bun. You know the one.
I always think about pastrami in my lips.
I'll carve you into eighteen slices sweetheart
Before you even get near my hips!

(To chorus, repeat, jerk-off, repeat until faded out)

Tuesday, November 24, 2009


O Lord I am troubled
Even after she races over and humps my bones
So I go to sleep just to die
A video switched off or a comforter pulled up to the chin
And in her dreams I play in a basketball league and
It turns her on when I get all sweaty by bumping against
The endless drive of
Pigs and sheep and dark abyss
Framing a shelf full of nothing but books
About what eating each other will thrill

Monday, November 23, 2009


Crayfish talk crayfish on banks beyond
My cock rotating between all three holes
Warm pan sharpens butter
Rich fries just about to die
We may not exist but really we exist
By existing ready to not exist as
We exist but really we do not exist
By existing not ready to exist
Long ago the universe falls
And gets me laid every time
Mountain and ale, mow and host
I carry a dildo to lunch, oops I
Guess it's ditch fowl
Stop bringing me what appears
For those who taunt

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

I stay away from bed always
The hairy pies are so depressing
The sunset flays me best

When I grab for something
The nothing's where
I stay indoors shocked by what to think

Primitive animals disappoint me
As they roar and as they pound
I close my eyes and face the fire

Even one thought is still too many


How often do I stop and think
Someday I'll pop your cherry on camera
Then reigns down upon me
The day of my calamity
I'm stealing from your body
I'm stealing from the Bible
All this dying
Forces me to
Suck my own cock
Like a righteous fountain of life
And scorn the mountains with snow

How often I stop myself from leaving


Pain of goals and empty games
Let the walls grow breasts like towers
The fat of fed beasts is sick, there's no
Soundness within them
Let the stump say to the rabbit
Both life and death bore me
I will follow those who starve their minds
All lies are something divine

Monday, November 16, 2009


the moon the door
no more passion
at window a white
my mind is blank
a moon means you're done


trying to turn it white all day
I build a mind
if nothing else
I face no mind

tall clouds
depend on themselves
their flavor is
wood to town

late autumn rain
existence not fair
any more passion
and I'm done


I am your skeleton under the ground
You are my skeleton without the frown
Many of my poems are rambling and
Without purpose or meaning
Look for the real and you become emptied
I'm getting buttfucked by Air Force One
Ending delusions is hard


I build my hut out of ass
I always hate what others love
All directions are toothless and lame
Blood beneath my skin only drains
Not being noticed remains important
The perfect union of felon and dull
It takes work to bring this to light

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Hard attack in the morning.

Hard attack in the middle of the night.
Mine are so small.
Maybe I have pussy envy.

Sophie and Kat tickle each other.
Kat pinches Sophie's flap.
The wicked lay a snare for me.
Fiddler on the roof, there's zombies hunting you too.

Give me understanding so that I may live.
I'll even relax and open my ass.
And you'll eat until spilled.
Later I slam a beer, studying the cosmic rarity of human beings.

Sophie and Kat pickle each other.
I take my clothes off in front of a manger.
Braindead smackdown in which a man-child refuses to conceive.
This is the fright of nothing filling my mouth.


It's true
I think that life is stupid and shitty

I've thought for years and years and years
I'm screwed

Friday, November 13, 2009

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Redeem your life from the pit.
The flesh you fear
Cleaves to bones,

You suck it.

And I love how your tongue tastes
Like an evening shadow.

We are dust without end.
I fear your life
Like foreskin on the dead.

Behold my cruel and fierce anger.
I make the world a desert and burn the seas.

You mean that much to me.


I could be a great athlete and 
A great girlfriend.
Yet my soul is full of troubles.
Floods in the darkness 
Make the odorless footsteps sway.
A band of ruthless men
Chase them this way.

He answers my secret places.
A tiny glob of jizz splashes against the wheat.
Sometimes my pussy gets wet so I touch it.
He's careful not to scrape me with his teeth.
Sometimes I terrify him like an anthrax ring.
And once I heard a voice I should not have known.
All my springs are in you.

more here

Tuesday, November 10, 2009


Ethnic rioting inside a frozen turkey covered with shadow theater.
Submerge in hot water and make me drink.
You know how these things usually end;
Test my darkness, poke the fork.

Unless you own me, then tools won't necessarily comply.
Raw meat appreciates a large meal much larger, beware
The blindfold labeled "calming spray."
Baby, milk pleasure secrets from my fangs.

Animals wearing collars are better socialized and adapt faster.
Tonight, their air unhinders well-endowed pollution.
Candied treats give you measure, deluded terrorism gets you recovered.
Androids clinking just before sunrise ill-devise

Vacuum sealed packs of semiautomatic killing sprees
Where the ventriloquist has confirmed
Clones of us loving a gas chamber, offenders for fright.
Something, creating something, or

Fixing something, they
Want us to tell them meaningful shit.
And maybe we should go on about pain and loss, but
Say instead I fuck your tits.

Monday, November 9, 2009


Always avoid small talk on the corner, and so
I shall not stink, I walk the water.
God is semen fat attacking the pussy vat.
It's breezy to wear this uniform of World War 3 miracles.

A boyhood quietness about the trigger.
I'm going traveling, I won't be here tomorrow.
Dip in place of me a narrative of anti-apartheid struggles
Rather than a silly white devil sleeping off eighteen beers.

In the fields, birds gather wild honey.
And edible roots toot out of a cow's udder.
And sweet milk streams from the sky.
And wires behave like young lovers

Ready to do without.
I'm going traveling, I'll walk full-circles in a vat.
So I shall have pussy, I fuck the trigger.
Damn, they sure make it feel very French.


Discovering who I am has been a long process, and
I'm still lit.
See the sky consider this some kind of rejection.
When the birds die, I'll dig a grave for them and
Visit and shit;
Assess the soldiers before deployment, take off your
Pants and shoes if you wanna lose it.
Guns galore lick my colon and several places in
My intestines, bladder and spleen.
Satellites hug me like I'm a chubby, bald guy.
Hasn't yet crossed my mind that I'm dangerous.
Call our friends now and urge them to kill their own children.
It's obvious you lust to kiss me.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Saturday, November 7, 2009


sorry for the way we scar. In the Information Age... fuck it, never mind, it's all
part of the poem's less-is-more absurdity. A store shows me smiling and
laughing. I love the idea of protection. Mink and rabbit fur; the pink ends
repeated. I'm sorry, I've lost the nerve. Can't recall when I ever got dislocated
from finality. In Iowa, there is wind. Goalpost bubbles between two ears. Obviously 
the sheer number causes soldier-on-soldier constipation. After we finish health care...
fuck it, never mind. I see them bring out my gentleman in a bloody shirt, prick shot
off. I'm devastated, I've lost my hero. Hostile elements cleanse, vigilant sanitizers
patrol the vast future. Dad's old light. Roomy leather from a rough suction.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Wednesday, November 4, 2009


simply and stupidly as I hide your head if
you are thirsty. We'll dill a black cauldron's jam
according to the car in tears since the show
keeps satisfying a melting and refreezing of what
exits from the steps of others resorting to sex
after they've suspected how quickly the
days are sickening. 


the beefeaters. Data streams won me bruises and blood
often disappearing to bed at five in the morning, spinning again
with an ugh. I'm sure what comes before my shirt reads
mass delusion and media manipulation teaching that
serial killers buy engagement rings. Zoos to choose, 
abuse everyone.


waking up this morning and thinking my heart has
stopped. Summon the sea and the passengers will be
removed from the trains within our brains. I went to
bed after your heart dropped. Fuck my pussy doctor.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009


Sprint back home and make the
Pets crap.
You fuss with live ratings, you can still
Trust the next bump of program content.
A lid in the dirt and my cock underneath that skirt.
It's basic reasoning.

Private jets for every night I'm regular.
Tormentor of movies, of cars and beer.
Half-dead, half-alive, half-dead, half-alive, half-
Dead, half-alive, half-dead, half-alive, half-dead,
Half-alive, half-dead, half-alive, half-dead........

Commercials demand playback and there's
Last year.
The bucket, a cross, fish-feet.
Lid on a cock and clumps of dirt in an asscrack
Underneath your skirt.
My half. My half. My half.

A planet for every jet I've tormented.
Regulator of cars, of beer and privates.
Faith Hill discusses her new fragrance.
Night is every future climate.
Arise to the modern Ku Klux Klan.

Film-dead, film-alive, film-dead, film-alive, film-
Dead, film-alive, film-dead, film-alive, film-dead,
Film-alive, film-dead, film-alive, film-dead........



Cokehead dirth.
Infinity accelerating.
My insect-seed bed undresses
Strings to drool.
I like you mixed and matched and lately my own
Radical puritanical.
I remove my baby's heart and eat it to 
Defame muscles after exercise.
Monstrously deformed breasts are high and firm.
The more colorful one is the more colorful the future is.
Spray, shower away: done.
Wear me on a jacket or in your hair.
Great for creating a custom French manicure.
I have to believe in fairy tales and I have to believe in love.
Simulate the marsh extinct in the wild. 
Seppuku due.