You're not welcome. It's not for the youse. It's not for views.
Most people here are monsters of biblical proportions
And what happens to them is what happens to monsters, eventually
They fall down by death or by beating, eventually
And that's a good thing for young monsters to read in
As they are getting tuckered at night
In their young monster beds by their aged monster caretakers,
Whispering,
Whimpering,
"He sounds good"
Sit by, sit still, sit crazy,
Everything happens for no reason,
Just as the tulip, too, burns by the lighter,
And so parables, wry, write themselves
In gallan ...Read more
My soul is the bottle dripping, succumber liquid gaining temper'ture
Can't find no obvious holes nowhere; no breaks, no sights in fissure,
And in its featurelessness and failure, its efficiency raised tenfold before
But I have no use now for broken things rotting and ruining my kitchen table
Should it join the bag, all black and dirty? Tell if you, too, should you find tape
Maybe it's not too late yet, for my sanity's sake, I hope it's not too late
My turf, my rules, my killing
I'm a describable indistinguishable dark soul, only desperate for the more desperate
To dominate and forclose ...Read more
For someone who says he never puts importance to the past,
I sure as hell am spending all my little coins clinging to it.
Rehashes of trauma, merry-go-rounds and go-get-happies, go-get-betters,
And drowning unsuspecting rooms under tub light of my disgraced charm.
That's because I'm a manic pixie dream gay,
–Y'know, like, in the movies,
Maybe we hit up, and we have
A blast of a time and for the times, and you think
That I perhaps realigned or redefined your insights and in-flights, and inside
The low-ceilinged hipster club you hang at, your friends start talking about me
Really coo ...Read more
Is it weird how every color
Bounces off your face
And it's perfect
Are we not yet tired of campaigns campaigning, telling
Beauty equals lighter
Skin
Fuck them
They have no
Soul to burn
I will not let
The body inherited become
The statement and mockery of another
It is as mine as yours is yours
It is for me to love as much as you love yours
It is with passion and pride I carry it as passionate and as pround as you catwalk with yours
Brown is the skin of my mother
Brown is the skin of my father
Brown is the skin of their home town
They are quite proud of that
Brown is the skin ...Read more
Your identity is not
Commodity
We roam today in hallways emptier but tomorrow
Will have to take another
To keep us all in check – O', the sad cylindrical
Life we choose
Your identity is not
Their recurring joke; nor faithless, faceless punch line
It is laid out in front of Comfort and Vigilance
Anonimity and Autonomy, both your maidens
It is not for shrills in the dark
To take into the public's fight if you do not want it there
Yes, the claw of Nyx and all her lovers, they bide in time
But they, and we, and you, and I, are not collateral damage
We are not the aftereffects of ro ...Read more
I am
Observer
–
Ye'd get a thousand hearts and hundred pins
And still cry lonesome when all lights hath dimmed
Ye talk about cutting yourself, I see
Fresh and clean pink lines where wounds hath been
Running perfect art, ye cut like sculptress
Like the gentle air that blows from aged that
–
I am
Precision
Ye beg them, 'please, read all in character'
Unctuous and booning, yawned t'wards the shelf
That ruins the message, deliverer
Ye don't want to be that, much to gallow
Larger – errands and I value timidity
Err – owe them nada, so shall get that alot
No longer will I di ...Read more
A graceless intemperance pardoned into
a close,
from dreams, the wasteful and wallets
Wake.
November rears it's November-y head. Last
clawed, last
leg,
we ache,
"Give me back my October, and extend like wings
sprawled
on bedroom floors,
the sweet nights,
along tunnels
I lay the middle of this
triad"
I swear to do you right, you
wanderer,
albatross, hummer.
I need more
sand.
I need more
sand. ...Read more
I brought with me a skill I call magic tampering,
so innate, it is where my personality's based. And so I locked myself in rooms,
waited 'til the anger thaws.
I do not want to be waiting for years in this here orchestra,
with their antibiotic eyes and phrenoplegic ears, and their
synthesized vocabularies, estimable lats
I still don't know what synergy means and I hear a ton of word fascists use it on the daily.
It's fun. Real funny, at the sides of the peepholes where people pretend like its their day job
A five to seven overwork, and I am new to this collapsing asceticism
Zoroastrian ...Read more
Poetry
Language exists
not to be policed,
but to have fun with as one lives
– Life In the Infinite Foreword
A collection of all the prose and poems I've decided to announce ahead of schedule and/or publish. Works ongoing. Click here for the poetry tag search.
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The Inc ...Read more
Anarchy of the mind.
I wrote some welcome-to-my-blog remarks, which you can read here.
