I always knew it would come like this. a hallucination. an erect calm, alert. There, telling ‘wake up’—well. I’m erect. I’m awake. Nothing missing.

Tried to look back into the dream to see if anything was missing as if the dream could be taken more besides giving me enough phenomena in shuffling past the point of departure into a new reality held close and for it only to begin; all else could not have helped but fall into line at these sudden-embossed noises, stripped in gold. But was it, tho dear, enough?

Night prior dreamt of all those colors. All it came out as were this in the shedding light. Retrospect. Summary, of things. Lost in too-harsh baritone, returned half-limping in higher keys. I was erect as the figment itself, all running hand along hair, all slight mumble deafening. Image of beach passes mind. Go out naked to kitchen.

Grab milk from jug in FRIDGE.

Do up some loose strays. Little drippy thoughts, wadding up in some ingathered, very vague sensibility. As if to drown it all out eventually, I moved my foot a step further and placed it an angle. Did not think of beaches this time.

Then I went back up stairs to loft to write this—just to make sure if anything was missing: but the stain on the midriff on my shirt would do enough mentioning here vaguely to leave the rest shot, mainly—and then began, as in, to recognize I smelled like shit, was still naked, and nothing was.

Hallucination, dream, new context by continuance, exclusion of period of time, or period yet to be. Wrought linkages, here and there. Wrote sad thing. Wrote another sad thing. Brief existential pang. VAPE-PEN is a buddy of mine. VAPE-PEN will never leave. It’s in-between my fingers right now. Yeah. Right.

Muster something more will you?? Dialogue twists my thing into too much a polarity, which it needs, unless you wish to say something exactly different from what you write. In that case write on FRIENDO - - -

the screams tear me aparti part the river then

only the rock is clamantto your socks on the floor

only the reeds whistle your seizingonly the lapping water

the sound of your thighs,

but stillthe screams have laid me still,

and you on the other side of the bed,and i to be torn silently to myself

: thoughts lite, easy to guzzlelight-flows give dawn not ebbing a reality, spur toflock it all into the open: breathable trees, canopies

magnifying th very balls to wage a msg: some getangered essentially at widespread, if even plumbed

into the engaging intimacies: my head, slouched againsta pillow in bed, thinking floridly, and that so as to greaten

—some partial wiriness: just as one would connect the sun to the brush and such it lifts: some time that’s often

as wideness, makes dejection’s recipe rather: for time isreally an objection, obliterate to everybody right to their

wrong things, rules but no course of action besides discipliningnothing ever, duh: it makes an unholy amount of difference, and

with amounts of itself separates all; is draft after draft of wizenedout pleaches, bygone, begging for the bigness of startling words-

-which these, despite the ghost that serves a symbol foritself—commenting on the words, imprinting erring

tho wonderful generalities; are

of reason, but not reason—is a sort of ‘mean what you mean’abt the daze of the day on the trees: so shore up a buffer, yes,

enough to insist upon untruth of the remarking lie:all the small codes some aggregate, o peculiar, likely

day: you is daffy as ends to sunrise, yr ebb a roomekes out for statement: hitting heads with nails and

stakes and all for the pinhead: yet there is another kind,another bleated prolepsis to nostalgia that makes it its

own by forgetting the treason of that want to remember

lazy bedfellows all a-snooze in rightful peace: we are

as wakened rocketing, are an emphasis on epiphany,on places for the names, feelings for objects, for

which there is intent, a ghastly beautiful point, or,I suppose, mere focus for the lore’s emanating past

its ghost of an aim straight into light’s action afterall, a presence everywhere and a straight-up, quite

omnipotent story: action is never a pathology, thatis, unless harmfully instinctual, and even then story

and event go ssmashed, reeling

over the film in stock-bloopers; blooming coil;reprimanded for answers, an impertinent vein;

a secret bloodflow-stoppage o’er guttural, spentwile all over the weave of trees there: we are

random lovers,the sunshine a likelihood to this:we are a bliss without reason and sanctity even

if we develop ourselves within a warzone, or alongas much safety as an empty street at night: empty

state: commune of coil: ‘we’: bed in, thoughtsdrowsily drifting like as eye-slits, bed in for the

day: but gift oneself in sleep one’s own callinga spade a spade: bequeath forgiveable alienatings

in spite of lonelinesses, innumerable unfilled voids,th fidelity only, to them that such are the normal

wealths in one: but have us for ‘we’: but not for long:for long: leave the rest to day: tangle up an empathy

for branches

the sun of day sits on like rests.

NIC.forge an idea / like with your hands make it,hours spent, the gratitude a gleam itself, besides completion,besides the fussy confessions, blunt wrongnesses,good reasons pointing to bad ones, big blame here: ruts of consideration: too nice,be more discriminate, discern evil, or nastiness,see and do not be blind, yet whocould i be speaking to, ever, besides myself, himself given himself as orator, to a gusty guest who happens on this text. wholies beyond the hilt of its appreciative gamble, saying a truceunconsciously with compliments and stares and saccharine: drudging home, he lets himself to thoughts his ownon beauty, cravenness, and o himself, himself: from seeing me make for myselfa dialogue, starts one within himself, triesto make it as correct, as well, asmine, my own so wrong and only me, tallies of demands, obsessions, disconnect-as-fury,low blows and only at an element, worthyof its very existence. just a part or two of motion,moron; do not make it all correct. correct the canyon with aptness--of decision to lay secrets like foul blanketsacross the solitary edging brune, ashitty coldness, hatred, makes the thingalright, positions it as well it could: thisis made of millions of doubts, a cramp in wrist, a working of invaluable--just in phrase 1 or 2, the collegiate rustlinga mere pace for glassy academics, conditions for the fight,raw planets where a meaning forages alone,a wealth among conditions for the world to calla peach truck : here is nic : nic is named laura. and laughs. hedamns the rest besides the whole, makes noblenothings cheapen into expansive blithe--and running, barrels feet into the mud of doomwhile these essential, droll realities roll--by, with wagers as they make with “your

protection” - oh how porously incandescent arethe things we all yell at from the expensive floods of purity, ‘Message” - wantingour own conduit like the poet has,our own resignedness to duty and to fateto be that scrap of nothing amongst all,that little voice for peaches in a haze of ISIS .

: sunday, 2:24 9-21-14my glandular max owns enough

to puff up and shit. lots growin this. mess it up more, getstoned: wry voice, o, make a

man of me: o expose my weary:o languishing, to make a music of:ripped buds gone, looked for more:uh some cat rapped on a doorstep

awhile: cruel night wiped alittle against my third eye,wore itself into blessings„ kindamaybe: gee„ grow up, get into

someone who’s really tired allthe time, let that person cribin with you and your speculationsof afterlife—wash of calm,

lack of being anymore: but how?,say, uh„ native american ::who how [??] relax, let some bigshow happen before your other

pair of goggles: the mid-oneain’t so much a window tiltedbefore a scene of crows likea diamond„ but the raggedy

sort of blues in that greysky, cluttered with clouds„amorphous, deep as a touch

against skin: a thing slid down back,

or maybe not, and maybe I’mjust coarsening a metaphor Ihave no idea I am creating,out of simplistic rationales

and sunny ideas about weather:the man raps : he wants, like,stillness to rally him intoa reconnoiter clearly daft,

across a few stars, galacticblurs, and unsymbolic sort ofpartitions wailing across thebig field of growths like fence, like,

like an admonishing earth, latefor season, might tell of warming:but these are problems generationsof other’ll have, and that right

soon :: for us, not much to worryof a’sides our selfhood and howphilosophy is strangled dead„debted by not depth but a tiring

of depth : maybe it ain’t so muchto just be like, some agh world-weary fuck on his last joint makingcalls at some bushwick busstop, or

maybe it’s enough that it rains,that one is fenced in by the topof that building over there, like,overcome by pollution and touches

against the skin and infections ofnodes, flourishing in filth on thelobes your head dismisses, pushingdown past temples to the grainy

thrash of yr throat, kinda : oris selfhood enuff to rap over, &do peoples love the beat or thebarren, or the inscrutable symbol

a denial of symbols, or the tiredbloke, disjointed as fuck, alonga path a seepage to the sewer asit rains from a grey sky torn into

night like a first step of somerandom baby„ leisurely tuft oftouch like some popping-up of love,unweak as unsymbol, stuff meaning

what it is exactly that instatesa type of permanence held in thebaffling heart like a stasis weknow but cannot penetrate, nor accept,

yet always yield to understanding asa wearisome truth bones beget„ andwhich, relived and relived, specks usall into mere lighting round the forest

a city made, of windowlights andpopulace, pollution and crime, loveand mate, or mating with mate, oreggcrate for the matting gone smelly

and stale on a sweaty bed in someannex, infested with big mosquitoesand assholes who don’t call whileyou’re right here waiting and looking

up but not thru the cloudiness,wishing for stars to do their bitin the awareness, lie about souls,recommend indifference, and steal

away then as you wish until tootired and tried with unfailingdenial of acceptance of the outreachan asswipe universe explains, trains

us to forgive w religious platitudesor even platitudes of familiar self,opinions, inner dialogue or maybeeven a dashing hermeneutic, or a

portrayal of language as meaningonly this : a man sat on a stoopand licked words with a beat, thencalled a dick, feeling heat, got

no answer, rolled weed to acceptthe rejoinder to the buildings andtheir tops, and with a last fizzle,plea, groaning out crows with the

morning, calling the empty day--vast with black stars a-wingacross the liberated western fearsof ornate and impressive lack of

care for flaws„ between the wrapping,lies; between the symbol, flaws,lies; within the lies, recordings ofour discord, a pollution of the mind

a third eye damns out of the way,while some caress is felt for everyday lit up with energy, untried,not tired, remote, so then effusive

and delicious as the viciousest inquiriesanyway : : which we would not aggrieve ofnor pick to bits, allow time make us culturesof ourselves before unpleasant, shrugging doorsteps .

: friday, 7:55 9-12-14Far off / the exhausted wicked / caw, caw / atThe latest loner / himself been thrown a hurt at,Lesson in existing learned / far off he does a

Thing / it / exists like the last halt / the delineation,Description of a range / one of many / myriad /Sunny winding selves reach like at glow / big

Ramparts / slow bursting out the columned raysAnd the sun a wheel / and the sun far off / anddreadful, dreadful / the listener foregoes this,

Makes a nasty sermon / for his unloving evil,Him, him and his intractable / blighted ways,Should have let abuse continue / should have

Bled the crisis for all / it is worth / for internalIs fodder / wordmeat / it is the fed up / withClouds / it is as if / fastly she moved / to

Take arms for him / this is / an honorific toDoom / that lovely lady / of fright / she is theStaring / over the incorrigible loop / precipice,

Pure and vain / knowing herself / terror is justGreat / it is the realest / figment of our imaginationThat exists / I type slow to capture all the light,

And when the bottle is stoppered / I give the corkA kiss / she is / aware of own greatness / shemakes music / even in her vanity / to not be

Vain / would be to lie to herself / she is a regular,Dusted-off / mechanical, / tempered thing alongThe lonely wheel-aisle / she breaks / and is

Still more perfect / than gorged nature / offIts eternity of sophists / philanderers of praise,Fools, vacant, / the night does / battle with

The sun / created creatures spawn / from theDrumming sleepiness / of old solitude, a / aForging’s made / look / good kids still are, or

Is that forgiving / it is starting / to be winterOutside / once again / the limb-boughs wrestleWith the wind / the chill is proliferate / it is me

Doing battle with who I will root for / or willForgiveness forge wonder from its crematedDust / must I give only to my own forgiveness

Of myself, / as exactly crepitate / as maculateSelf I / am a wave of birthing / I want to createA gift / I want to see my beautiful Doom again,

Spread felt and felt / across hurtful nations / theNations all hurting each other / it is sad, but

The world will not go apocalypse / until up is

Not fed enough / until truly / the signal speaksTime / ‘I am alive’ / in frigid image and moment,Descending from the glossy clime to make to

Shew, before shewing / so as we might figure itOut / before the ramparts tell us, / before theBig music is faced / and everyone is decent,

Everyone, of us, truly internal / truly inside theFear / is beatitude / the only rationale needed,Anyway / is to see oneself a member of

Everyone / while winter because a ‘batteredPanache’ [Stevens] the mind lopes into theDarkness to illuminate / is as the sun might,

Okay to trip / its columns down / in the forgivingNightfall of space and time / lonely stars, run out,But run out after / we can feed up properly, ascend

With our darksome muses / o Doom / o pith of life, andFear our humanness / how disastrous to confuse theseThings for which we equivalently bleed / winter chill,

Type Slow

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

: thursday, 7:35 9-11-14my silence carries like a sound itself,as artfully as can I paint my feelings,unbeknownst to them will go on lifting

up, and penetrant eye and sorry demur,rally their skittish selves, cease worryand delegate with them as to what my

worry is, be gracious, stun with politic,remind the other of my chances stillwith him, whom has so coldly grudged

my failings as to finding or revealinghim with my own sunny insight, so asto make melt the scum from him left

there to cheapen, well, and I condolehis place, fright-filled, in the berth ofquiet, dipped into a terrific airlessness,

monstrous calm to open door to seefrom one’s psyche-shack, then, wait,you follow fears, wait for tornados,

you hide in the bathtub with your dogand finalize your will within your head,and, when nothing happens, you emit

the doleful and oppressive nothingswhich in being more some impressive,crystallized fright-of-frights, intends

in you yourself to last beyond thatthreat, you lingering in fear-dom whenthere is no warning left to worry of,

no tornado on expressive raiment,no terms of other come to in someisolated moment, they forgotten,

scoffed at now, for as before youfelt damasked, naked, robbed ofyour attitude, your adventure with

oneness done, that is, you breakfor your own good a promise,make it shreds, to figure out exactly

what had made you fear so much,this left in dutch by confidential ego.this left to languish more in scum

for what you did not recognize of it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

hey birthingman [????] what is this,great sharkwhale

i am the leaves that whitman magically turned into grass for some reasoni am some weird kinda foyer or something

i am your daughter’s chinstrapi am your daughter’s wonderful cheeseburger making capabilities

i am a pack of cards that is comprised of a single giant card as aggregate of all the cards in deck, therefore combining dynamic significances within a static mural representative of all gesture and spade and heart and diamond and club, a salience to singularity so great as to whisper the universe within something figurative as open nullity, sans delineation, interpretation-as-all, down all paths, true to every gauge, true to a life gone spare and niggard as a broken fence, expenditure zero, thus infinite, and eventually ground all into desuetude by sparing too long to spare at all: or perhaps, just perhaps, is it a new foison to be found and as crepitate as any and all realities, as the window to death is an encompassing only conceptually understood, well, so then is a life encompassed only by anything there enough to be a member of its meaning, thus, we have life, we have death, yet only in the concept an lively death, for only two so remote things could parallel but in the soul of one, and not, however you slice it, in its

extinguishing.

: souldeletions, caw, caw,You know who you are when you discuss GODAnd fouling up then grace me with a silence asRoutine and there as any familiar pain, big gulpOf nervous, running tacitly between foes, stillyAnd renegade, an oftener protection would beOnly as asymmetrical as choirs repeat, big fuelTo sell, regenerative bastard, lovely suits, logicSomewhere dusty in the ramparts quickens asA feral, brokenly delirious, subtle-sacharrine orPraiseful duty to the orange beam would in aSetting, or milieu, of such chasm grace beforeMere scripture in the stars became just musicFor an ear, a block of words that all are similar,Conscious of what stands out, conscious of aBig waxing ahead, conscious of power held inThis berth that drags in silence, all along theTrod, impressive first, then idiot with sayings,Then brightening becometh local wisdoms orImpetus to terminus, I will kill with these wordsAnd die trying as well, at my will there will be

This angsty with partitions rambling stuff ofSeason, season and season, and the throat aThing stopped long ago across this plaintiveMural in the fourth dimension, an arrogant orFelicitous rascal donning fights for random,Lucidity’s a bitch, new thought, new thought,New fragile thing’s best it could do with trailsOf tales about the chancre in your thigh, mossThe wiggy growth surrounds like rootless hair,And like a chuck off the old shoulder’s blockRuinations grammatically stow the hidden shit,And nonsense blossoms erratic as a productOf ways more actual, movements for the muralUpon ascension to the draft of people, each aSecond thought, after the first is learned notUsed to being asked; a second life that brimsOver the top with clues squeaking qua kinglyWith an air or two, while the janitors of logicSway in the wind like a field of ripe corn, likeA fancy unrealized, like taste unto declaration,Made realer even by suffering this, o this, oKay. KAy

[solitude harmonious.[dracula seepage. now I'm afraid.

Some previously unknown evil harnessingMuscles at the bite, sunk teeth to anxious,Anchor me. Remind me, the collar to set on to the wristLike a soothing penitentiary so ruled by uh,Uh, some massive nastinessAnd cold congruent, unguent, altogetherStunning with a running nose too, yet off the pageSomeone goes, making

A bad larynxThe subject for a soul-deletion here. enuff w the horse-do

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

: monday, 7:20 9-15-14 unreal, unreal dayunreal, fanatic day, sea of breath, sea

of death, death and in scarlet, price of death, taken the gainsay anyway, no wrack for the left stranded, sea of blood, particle, cannot forge, no forge, no gate for the haunts to slouch under, they bring themselves no life to day, to day no forgiveness, no evil but in lagoon, no sense but for the smallest vapor, no infinity but of bodies in the gorge, and then,

commune of gull and flower,rectitude to make way here, it will, it should: follow, follow thebreakage of gull and flower from the universe;follow the acquiescent forge of plant and matter,sharpen the universe, as if itwere your own awareness, yourown lanky treasure, yourreach from the grave to soothe the context with sense,your seize of the finest particle:so: i make these demands:i tremble beneath the ease ofregimented anxiety, feltand flown, as if in one breath altered: lost as it is grown, planned as if it wereto plan, while I go on, tall and magnificent, a bodyto bear the clouds, and for no universe: an intimacy still, a reedof a heart as big as the finalitiesimagination can’t get,cannot settle: nono, no: acquiesce only for oneself,for the bright hell of oneself is bodiless: fierce and fiery: a metaphysical wondering:look at it all as maybe just, a gorge stuffed with rottingbodies: crystalized blood the gull pecks at,the flower grows from,Lorca looks at. And then flown.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

: saturday, 10:51 9-13-14For we are human, and the appraising dayMakes of us petty gangs, gives us to too pettyRemind us of the doubtful character, reply toThat, and with a fine-tooth-comb, sort of well

Dance in hunger towards the parts of characterLess precious, and less than remains, and lessAnd less we see those good grains, we, I, I seeMore legitimacy in the shards of bad, and toe

No line therefore between a personal wealth butGet callous in the understanding gangs of gripes,Because unseeable, and that’s the point. My egoGives me to understand, indulge the worser part,

By dint of its being small and groundless. I do this.And am perhaps more easily deflowered by thisParadox, while we, us, and the other mightAs well be someway different, less destructive, Perhaps, or more

: LITTLE MILE [live for the weekend and buy grams of blow with your paycheck.see section A. feel good about going for walks. work thru a longdistance relationship and get through the suicidal shit okay. then

break promises but also keep a few, not to keep up appearancesbut you wish rather to keep the purity of your word, which is hardfucking work. wait till she comes for a visit after super long time

apart and spread some roses on the bed because she likes that sortof thing. leave oreos on the pillow as oreos are delicious. ride herlater in the night about that time you smoked six cigarettes in five

minutes as she was blowing xanax to prove a point. go to sleepcrying but remember a few special moments as well and base yourmemories around that. see GOD for awhile but then decide it was

bullshit and perhaps just your conscience given a literal voice. seesection A. hear nobody text you for days and understand someweird nonsensical ehrebung at really enjoying a smoke for the first

time in the morning as you look out the window. it is brisk and sunnyand the bricks of the buildings look beautiful. think what a day whata day etc. then actually try to accomplish something with friends in

PARK SLOPE. understand finally that the general agreement is youwhack as shit. then find a letter from your girlfriend from awhile agoand feel uplifted all over again for some reason but as for positivity

you do not discriminate. drink horn of sun to fierce last dregs. thinkabout whether you are actually thin or just think you get thinner whenyou are really just used to how fat you are. talk to your girlfriend at

a certain point mentioned in section A. while on break for way too long.sweat out a cluttered subway ride every morning forever. decide to jumpoff the BROOKLYN BRIDGE then decide not to. look meaningfully at a

church because you are reading twilight of the idols. repeat a lot of differentstuff at irregular intervals. repeat stuff at regular intervals. learn that thosestatements are an acceptable example of an irregular repetition: or is

irregular as regards time only, not difference: an irregular life has less to

do with fiber than we think. an irregular life can be as varied as dispositionto pate : : as feeling to brokenness, as alteration altered to fear of change

might comfort one back into the nest of ignorance : it doesn't have to meanas regards, well, anything : it itself can be fiber, a fibrous fiber: so: we scroungefor something burred underneath the soft netting: crack up: put way too much

weight in your presence at social events : leave social events early or go tosleep in front of everybody pretending to be passed out : see social eventsas a total stressor : don't kno what to do : never know what to do ever: social

events. assume yourself a negative, discomfited person thereby. lose allfriends because you dig deep into stupidity to find a reason for it, think about ituntil you go blind, rectify and rectify till all's a mess: is that what you want: yes:

friends are lost based upon too many simpering blasted apologies. really wishthat you will leave a good looking corpse and do leave a good looking corpse.wonder why you don’t think about childhood very often, as in the concept.

see section A. come to the conclusion that fuck yes it is too late to have a happyone but really come to understand that that doesn’t matter as all things are fora time anyway but then get pissed off about this because you then realize as well

that you are mere mortal and still fields of open grass and oak away fromdescribing something beautiful or whatever but then also wonder that youare infinite wherein the moment is concerned: and then think about your ex

for some crazy reason because all that matters is the past as regards whatyou’d want to retain in some eternal rolodex of spite or some shit, or maybeit’s just you but you can’t reimburse your mom because of all the infinite

you’re feeling and tell her you can’t and she says that is okay but doesn’tmention that it is ok because the advent of your twenties was mainly depressing,and you there, in room, gnawing at psyche like some useless ape as usual say, WELL

OUT WITH IT, and there she goes finagling a fart out of her ass your momwe are speaking of your mom and her aggravation and her remnant painfrom a lost job years ago because oh certainly to fail once is to fail forever

and then you as you are young realize the moment is forever and you canmake it a failure and you can make it a wonderful revealing of some bigthickened BLEAR asking for property, asking for sense to be given it but you

can’t you can’t justify the dread nay [beckett] nor the odd ghosts in yourbathroom that time you spoke to yourself for days and and and so then sothen the weekend promises at least an end to this damned ineradicable

gloom and empty state as in empty and taxing but no state of emptiness nostate of gloom yet here is gloom here is the reflections of a man refusing toolong to look in the damn mirror and see himself is it you or is it i or is it all

the damn farts from the woman who birthed you wanting to be the finalwhiffing sound as to all of your gutsy failures and drudges through fieldsof stone and grass and oak you paint out of a backpack and some green

carpet in your room that one time you tripped balls on a tuesday onmushrooms and the razor talked to you and proved by its unassumingnature a very grill to the face that damned long face of a son too burnt

into his own damned house and wired by the damned eternity that soundslike some resilient, grand tocsin, some priketh ye some don’t but ya knowit’s all just plain forgotten and happy at that, I’d live in codes wordless

more than explain this meaninglessness and/or stain on the life of time,that is humanity: that is growth: that is the paradigm of something written,written, scratched along the judgments of your mom’s farting fucking

asshole, your grown ass self, so proud to put on pants, so good at that onejoke made riskily at a party and relished ever afterwards, so good at failure,happy failure, happy, happy to enter that small crack in the sadness too, happy

to bloom out of dismissal, shunning, happy to mature past the point ofneeding a single reason for a fart, an end, or a waste of mind. turn 30.

repeat. [etc] see section A.] ?? . . . .

RAGE on rage on, collapse into morning day like something of a storm, at leastFrightful mist, some thunder bloom / glass incipient of the troubling harrowing:Some awful precondition. Out its frightful bells: wetly dew paints grass lucent-

-And I rise away from all that in my small cave in my state an eye half open,My knuckles are red from cracking them on my own jaw very a lot that nightAnd some banging head i.e. sleep deprivation considered itself and made it

Worse. I thwarted myself continually mind whanging useless and thickly, likeSometimes i feel like that hamster I had when I was in middle school, wasn't,That i never named - - - uh, worth, it, wasn't worth it . S'ok it's ok for things

To no be worth it. Don't cry well then here's a fucking cookie Tard. I literallyJust spat up phlegm right on my computer / no joke / I am freakish, & loudAlso re hamster-mortality: I kno it is tragic, my girlfriend lost HAMSTERR

Named peanut. An entire quadrant of space specking thru eyes of that thingAll day . Dont think ive evr done this much speed in one night (lol)i dont think i should be able to backtalk : this quick speed = religious,

[chalk dust molars fanatical facial people crunch 'em with 'em to dust. be sure to drudge up spume in the foggy brume some master floater orfor sake of interracial justice an inanimate image of justice untarnished by opinion

or blaspheme. vulgar just for sake of cashing in on the weird honey : dip in there :of big politics etc anticipatory raging, prolepsis, summoner say : ARiSE ! ! !! :my girlfriend: she is sleeping right next to the and oh like a lamb she is, right

next to the voodoo-man, shepherd, making us all fly thru the honey right intosome strict objective eye, truly naked vision, making commune with image and self. - - ]She goes on dozing into me and snoring soft like a, like subtle universal truth, or

Somethin. My snot is stuck in the bakc of my skull, i feel, i feel like waking up myGirlfriend with my hands all over like tidal waves : : i know hamstermortality, to letThe reader kno : it is the wave of arcanum 17 : it is, it is waft of hope, like random

Prescience. Iit is the great like space etc of all, or some completely lazy encompassing.Kewl things only exist cuz hm i guess they exist for — — time, like hamsterts,Hamsters = meaning of universe, it’s like classical semantics or fuzzy logic:

Supervaluationists predicting borderline cases!!! How many hairs must i lose beforeYou can call me bald : for the hairs will exist alway / they will, they will scream out :They will be a thing that is they are the very fuxxx god calls logicor[insert pithy statemt] am very jadedprobs why dont have thing—to say or something ALL IS THING THAT SAIDonce SAID IS ALL IT ISjust as death is ripoff o’ lifeunffunny growth on back of lungsYAY!!!!!speedball thoughtswow, i am racing 10 carswith my front legsand my templesare nihilistic oh my fuzzyfuzzy logic no logic at allthe impossible cubes, spinning,waning, ‘wzing’ speeding againIS UH VOID--CULPABLE WHO KNOWS

youse culpable, I’se culpablewe’se original sinjust as jest of CELAN warned.holocaust = errydaay,erryday the birth and death of hamstersMIGHT SOUND SILLY YO.MIGHT.There is predicament in falling alone,there is a problemthere is a thing outside, so uh well--get stoned and callit = oversight. so what now do i mean,i mean to mean, i amthe planet’s girth because i say so.i am a faulty realm of truth wherein ETC ETCall say i am. as much to declare isto prosa-cute thelofty value system of all else. go—to pub. eat planet. do again.howsoever, i will--not play pretend with pretense,not bother with the balls had for redemptionn,but know myself as fucked beyond redemption fornot being so as able to communicateand the wisest logical chauvist for my aimsmy ears provoke to life, my lungsrescind to un-prove , or disseminatereactions, physic,i am a dead and lorn and insignifacanthamster of my doings; am betrayal,am too in negative, am drunkwit negatory negations etc ugh fucknegatorynegative. which is some manner positiveAS NIHILISM IS NOT PESSIMISM UG.BUT SORRY!!!!i have gon onwaytoolong.

deep, deepmy sides hurt from weeping I'm so sad deep, deepmy body is raw to forget itself deep, deepI am nothing and this isinspiring, deep, deepme senses are a greatness in themselves,deep, deep, and, yet, still,

I grasp the thought like a thing of earth,I delineate, I sketch galaxies, I am beyond wonder,deeper,deeper, deep into that heartbreak, deepinto the words, spoken silently across a vision,immanent with it, not as beside as Iam beside my lachrymose bugging fuckself,sent into the rote of being a new dissembling of this eartha new creature of some daft little quietus,some suspended cucumber-cool renegade there at ease GENITALMEN & HADES’ LADIESgroup wonder within itself and call it a uh uhbadly put-together and uh wrapped badly box of surprisesunrelated to thesituation at hand, an alter-bliss, adifferent way to get skrill, just only must drive deep this knifedeep, deep, deepinto the sides of my boxed-in presencefinding galaxies with each nudge of the utensil furtherinto the wound guts, slathering out and Icradling them and the scarlet wavesas like children, innards children of a concept-deathand unremarkable facility to dupe creatively reality, anddeep, deep, I find my style’s in the coolbut that of the chill of the bladeand the balls to sunder out of purity but correctlya last vision of andromeda or whateverthinking of spazz and heartbreak as if to entertainand rethinking every familiarity of dayas if it would not pass that way ay ay again,my senses are a whackness in themselves

you are ivory and waxand fat and glucoseand your belly ishaunted withbaby grape leavesand all of the firefliesyou let dieyr baby iseither goin to bemade of wax if so inhuman ormaybe more perfect thanany human couldbe. couldwield with all fat beyond-

-uh hamlet’s very rub for allthat could existby frailty alone exist,whose name is womanwhose name is all progenitor and--conquest of all life.baby born in a nestof deer fur and salineand piss and salep„unknown what willbe of hersaeculumwhose hands will never graspfor the nervesdont connect like thather cheeks unruddiedand skin unscratchedwaxy, glossed, and wrapped doubledharliquin, (im srry) ur piddling childsecundipara,ur called, but the 2nd fallsa little shortbeyond getting,beyond the salience of Hildo Doolittlewho spoke of grecian sandalswho spoke a futile essenseas inumanity that breathes and tellssomething of something,something somewhere off beyond the fieldof the wise, an only great security for oneand some trite laugh of alien other,and some self-conscious eclipse of wordand word,with word, and dropping names like rain,i will not know to go without insaneconditions of your own, for iam only shadow ama parataxis and anomoly for saintsto analyse, rebuke and make the moreinfluence by the controversial strokesmy own blithe sun concedes, and only mine,while others know a little , not too much,i grant you poems with unvarnished touchto make a strain your own and such is freedom.to make one more holyu must circumsize not justthe cock,

but the thumb and thepinkie nail,to obtain complete _ __ _ _you must notbreathe a word of your birthor your mothers griefwhen your husbandtakes his member to your mouthat age 14, you must rememberthe sun, the stars, the eucalyptus youwere cloaked inyou must rememberyou were made in a mans imagea god giftand you must, pardon the taste,think before he speaksfecal and unholy, and lastrememberyou are eutropicetheral light cathedrals will bebuilt for you, joan of arc will fight for uand your mouth, soft as wolly leaves,will open„ for himinfluence harries along dustpath,it is a fallingit is a great gloamin,across widespread, across plain,across a desert of diction,across calamity--and on other side of such laysall befuddled reason.the moment is a capturing of renegade,it is the trouble we taketo be sure, it is:there is something sleepyand magic in your agequatortichi i can see it in your eyesthey twinkle, you’ve grownto be such a wonderfulfuck flesh thing,the deserts are muskywith men, shoulder shoulder,sleep in eye and semen squirton your golden hairpost-trauma, (im srry)you’re falling in rye,

the irony of that,no one will catch youbut crass, sunnied handsof men whose faces rough youlike coraland cocks which gave theehernias, ulcers, prolapseyour soprano lips, your timbred mouthand trees, thin and ramellosebrush you from now,combing what is left of your hair[im sorry] see whatbreton says andre breton saysandre breton says andrebreton says isandre breton says, isthat the only unforgivableis apologizing. only that.but time todilute the dialogue witha collective psyche,asifwewereapartoftheSAMEBRAIN.that’ll fickxthe eminence of meaning, as totrouble with its understanding, witha meaning merely true as thatof flowers on the pleach.sip your yogurt,bask, bask, bask,maybe crawl out and crack and splitand think of those rantallion stallions hahahaand you can laugh, and laugh , and laughbecause in the endthe world is justthe same brainaccepted as fact, but unproved

. . . . . .. . . . . . . . Slash these words apart, greet blame and slash that, grab the bags:Run from the rage then, drum up some possibility for fuel, beat legsFor leagues. ‘Message’ after ye with a bat, won’t get a thing so. But

Kicked up dust he’ll cough on, sweat drooling, finally fatigued: marigoldsFooling in the wind around him, agh, long day: we run into the ‘Pome’Later: find it sucking on a sugar lump in some coffeeshop, well, money:

Who knew, who but the pivot finally: as drain groans a fable like a job toDo. Shit twists with flood and the seagulls berating lend belief at it all withSolid statement, caw, caw, wishing, duh, To Be Done With Message

Of course, especially one that some brine of heart sloshed up: someReticular wisdom like as hair, hateful : some weird gloss over shadowDims the bald head, the bald ‘Message’ - the crested ol’ bigot furious

Yawp yapping damnable in that there roast for the father: big squeeze,Squeeze of animus. Finally, down the block of stillness, down dug intoThe brig, obstructed color, rigid air, manic doors, kids laughing at him:

Little Mile : : feel it all over again : what answers can we get to as regardsYou fully: an elliptical, maybe? Or trash, or earthy disarrangement, dirt,Particles resulting in flipflop, wages made but unfulfilled for good? Or

Maybe marigolds !! Breezes coming out of their loops into wiggling weightThemselves, hulking as cathedral tunes, heavy with ambiguous threadiness,And that holy torment of an ever-figuring progenitor, professor of the

'Message'—black & bleak—against the righteous curiosity, ol' puff-head, ol'Apoplectic, Sorry For The State Of - - and dese homeless parties of theSad. The sad chase, the chase as I must do is still solo. But grand, the

Hemophilic fire, the rusty brigade o’ pleaches o’ daffy hair, dummy cuntTo stake on cosmic sex, just a blowoff: still. Then. Little dragoons whiffedIt up anyways and blessed the fakery past mythos into real, made a great,

Big sepulcher for all 'em fathers: all the risks at tacky jive: lagoon: great,Great swoon of fibrous living out the ducky’s little murmuring in the mud,Tump-a-tump with buckles o’ swash : #dgaf : yet is we da pirate , as in ,

We is , we ah make anything magnificent and say it is that and leave itSo. We. Croon and wait for that swell damned music’s dish to punch bigand soft into the pillow : we: meet poetry POETRY POETRY POUR IT ALL

And soft into th. pillow. We. Down a side-street : have a baffled-eye ‘a sec:Din in the den gets closed the sisters ears : think some nature-shit: stfu:Bucolic site there wispy girl : pencil neck : root , , , for Image-Pleasant:

For you that is : root for the Panjundrum not, in his anger-yells all daffy,Deadening reasons for the noise, amplified like a big [bracket] to the sideOf something, past declaration, past the final honesty and towards some

New squeamish chuck of ew-grease out of my bad throat : 'Message'Attempts to toughen with - providence, it feels, it knows - of mere scraps

Of itself, and then I emit new strings for my shoes, frayed knot, couple

Stoners ranting in a parking lot when one sees a human innim and flees,From eye of him : one states the [bracket] as annotation even though itSupplies nothing : mere notation is as much enclitic for an infidel sense

As rhyming to behead borders of rhythm with timing , adding meaningLike chaff at the end while a sprocket ebbs out then 'splodes at once, aGathering of mite and fingernail and bedding shod in the cracks under

The bland couch then sets aflame, burning down the garbage, which isEverywhere : police police : fuck da : : whelp : lost musings only whelmAs much as one is willing to go rapidly , that is, will be as quality as the

Quicken, enacting some different statement thru defensive natures of styleLike Declension : Logoaedic : parse the thought, then let it run before theJello melts, food gets cold: picnic raped by ants. Premise of the rule. So the:

Uh: bracketed, shuffling fragged things dole more out for the warmness,As in, have something mean what it means, leave it at notation , make theFinal well and, "End like a spear, not like a broom" - - Well, who knows

About honor: maybe just to prove myself I will right something really forAwhile too messed for the husbandman to mould with his ass: drop theIncisive manacles, they get my wrist bit with copper: write to right a thing

You never mention: madden out copper tongues: make demands aboutStuff you have no idea you are actually talking about: but that's not goingTo mention itself either and is perhaps what is missing for the right reasons:

So why yell out proper tongues if that is all tongues want is their own voiceTo hock a spray of legit logey sniffed up the nasal psg. and out into theWorld. Well. Garbage burns itself to slew. But you like that. You enjoy

The mesmerized epiphanic trumpeting, priketh, prike prike : nasty uncle,He was , and a bald head a sunshine away from DEATH-LAZER. Stun,But be stupid as brick. As was said, I speak to reflect mirrors in darkness.

Should be obvious. Maybe this inkling of finding a new way to speak'llDart straight for the first reason to pant and wave commodities at the sullenSucker-tourist upon losing his next day's provender at the hands of silly kids.

DeMand: Wring rungs out proper tongues, lick pompous, drone on in thatt t tt t tt t t tt Stat o’ thing: status of thing: state of things: rut t tt t t t tt t tt t t tttt tt t t t t tttt t tt t tGuts me : feeling in’t I feel nothing but in hole: & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

Still the great compilers edge more into the fantastic, learn to eat it along withThe tragic as one happy meal. Eventual blossom, hoping Mary and Ed ride fineOff into the sunset, cans tied to the bumper clicking like cliché: Jesus is sick :

He tells me so much is at risk here : then again, who could harbor such a feelBut Big J or Yeezy : : well he’s a prick : that’s why you shouldn't music so much:I don’t listen to music nomores: even you’re tarnished bc of all this harlot noise

Attempting heaven, & whatnot : WHAT? WHO THN ?? WHAT THEN ?? SoFortunately, I’m Done. Getting into ye head. I’m already there. Felt random &Also, tortuous pressure spread keen thru label after label, waiting for sustenance,

It was given, as if words could ugh the body with ugh : feed me with 'don't' isWhat the character 'Message' means. This sentence means it is myself declaringA sentence. That is what it means, and the Myself in it shines out of that part of

It like some beautiful renegade oxygen, a distillation more perverse, a naked way,A death of all that damnable stuff we got our heads warped around in like someExquisite Fucking Turban [tho false] tho, maybe drunk off picked points smacking

Of defeat, well : : : such's to give up meaning at all - - MESSAGE _a t_ _a l l_ [?]As if words could damage the body : does language uh have one string it can plukkTo stop the heart?[.] Or does it all. Well. Uh, lose weight: is it a fascinating receptacle,

Or mere extensiveeverything: ” Do You Believe In God.” – – – – – – I wouldn't beAble to give you anything for jesus, much less Jews. HAve little idea what I believe.Belief is odd. I think I believe in, just, being chased, you know, for thievery. It's a

Saturated L.A. sun like in this song by [The National] it is called "Pink Rabbits." itIs really damn good I remember feeling like the string to my heart almost cut that oneTime. But I couldn't tell you anything a medium in some spooky curtained shop

Wouldn't be able to perform with a bit more erggh 'flair' well damn I despise flair writeTo construct a core or write to DeMand to write or write to right something wrong w.Your sister's [hairdo] or write about strings. Write about all the strings. What all of

Them would do if connected THE WORLD IS POME across the globe. Don't thinkThere'd be much room else for people. Well no worries then, you’ll steal hunches till youCan’t even breathe a thinnest wisp of sister-air. Enjoy never figuring out anything. I

Like to tip-toe but that's no way to run , I gotta say the world is fucked w/o a point , , ,The drain is really sick [!] w. all this flood it might as well be the guts of garbageAnd the rightness of wrong , of the failed and of lineage thru language do we bring

Our own booze do we sing some amped version of the obvious soullessness everybodyGets to grate all over everybody else like some annoying sadness too small for this

World, too inscrutable to be anything bt what it is, what it is not anything, as POME

Is words, not ideas, get subjugated by need to buddy up with certainty by corroboratingThis or that line with another, breaking another, letting pennies go slipshod thru daGrate, while all the while mighty confusion rends a new surprise in plain polished sight,

But o the bees in my gut wig out more folly but as plain to live and hope by their ruinTo bring the ties untangled, yes, state the statement-as-goal, martyr a few mirrors thruIndelible mistake, ending Kierkegaard at Democritus' river etc. NO WE NEVER

STEP THRU THE SAME RIVER TWICE NO NOR PERHAPS ONCE, anyways,The bees escape nathless from a pirson-prison. In spite of all this floppy flotsam,Like some weird torture. The stingings bless, the robust yellow flow mitred across

De backs uf'm. And I still considerable, a regular pill for the unagog men still seeingMe unsightly, some lack, some twit, some spook : er something as like, as what godMakes of his leftovers in the afternoon between jobs: but me young boss: HOSS:

What?, zooks, gain, what gain 'questionmark' nothing an adorable steeple could notBring together as all us wonderful people together rise them, these middle fingers--Pointing up UP UP, run with lacking, then, fuck, huh?, shut up, suited only to

Sslipped phrase, the bank account gets canceled & yr out on the streets with onlyLuck and Fucks to feed you. Wiring runoff, shattered, wrecked, fetid, but all of itSo Human that nobody seems to mind: neither of those three words can understand

My theosophy, nor gainsay, I'm too cryptic: : fault fault, fault fault, thwartedness--But still continuance, shorn but not straight dead. Lucky but suffering. What a bore,To get brought in by force, to the party, snatch a few lichen, press against petri dish

To make dialogue unheard of or no at the party what this is about, this sleight of hand,This emotional screening we seize up and clench our asshole to forget about, rot in it ISay, row those sewage tentacles, mandibles, new legs from the mess, new smack to

The veins, new shot, lessening as day and eyesight, NARCAMNARCAM.Ruin stake [valuesystem] bless me achoo gradient risen sceptic collide me w truth,

Ruin stake dress me up in my garters and delirious falbalas at table, valuesystem,

Run to the ruin: make stand up puppetry the rotary: vast tracts of time enable the--Child to believe he is infinite. Child god goes wishing-wishing at peak, wishingTo see: you flee from definition like that stoner guy from earlier all the time, you

You let the questions mysteries bleed out thru yr fanciful cufflinks: drat: quaint:Wanna bleed staid blood. Want to create the hurt that must hurt, that must come:

Just to have some control, as elusive blood, got to pour lopsided from a precious

Wound : : we gaze into ourselves and do not speak, wondering what batty thingHappened back there: we go wishing to dash away performance with a little moreLaze: 5-year-old Genius. But yea. But, with you I shuffle into someone free. You

You see the curtain and you know the pianist is behind it nodding off into overdose:You are knowing what curtains mean and that curtains rarely help to cover meanings:You realize there is nothing to peek at nothing to see so you shrug and go home to

Your death, ever-approaching some more-appropriate redness , , , but the redness inThe West , tho. What's with that haze that looks like the hoarsest GLARE of all:It is the shot in the arm taken too breezy, brought you to the finale, the glimpse then

Recession into embedding blank blankets of so-and-so upon your life, weighty bigDeaths greeting you with comfort, delicious sating of the lorn, and raggedy willfulBravery so long perceived like an animal, that is, now seen so much to salute. So I

Have access now into your maze : it is dangerous here : bees go grinding against theGut. Entrails that trail haphazard underneath everything forever : the flighty frolicOf your hair, sister : good on you for nvr doing hoarse/horse. Your hair that speaks

In looks looks like the bigger maze, the bigger harder hug to give one day when just ,When things get better: just so one don't get bitter, what from examining all sides ofThe same pipe dream. DeMand, and makes thus bigger dissonance w. me. Say me,

Of your aspect, at base, nothing less, your talent is my name and sister-curse, my uhMy name is one to have in spades, you gotta have it so it radically disappears underA veil mentioned elsewhere in full wherein the chase is always and never the point

As your legs, extremities exist by the disappearance of a prior location, or someName, some name called death we get into other ideas 'bout. But it is a lost name.Bu I cannot bless more than I bleed. Whatever that means. Perhaps I tell

This to others, they do not offer but stares and blinking : oh alienation : what anEasily dismissible thing : REAL PROBLEMS hah : in that case, those girlsKidnapped in Nigeria're having real problems : suffering is subjective & hell

We, as In I, Race Towards It as anything the wiser, wise as answer, jus cast answer,Jus cast ANSWER:- whatever happen to be, jus quake out a few inappropriateInabilities in front of anyway, including meshing: hear aspersions there, here

And there:I say, if one feels pathos then uh you know the whitest lashfuck express it, fuck!, don’t you painful on your brow loose the snow came,

bother with a perfect shape as the clad in crammed houses familiesshape you have is naturally a very frown at homies, themselves children,improvisation, imperfect as a sky made random and the same as all storm, asleep flakesor something, like, one sky, just made like me to feel like an actorone. i guess, uh. that is what i make like to meguess. that nothing happens if we within the thin walls, while bruised dads glimpse the hoodare indifferent or something. give in rochester, barely guap to eat,to obsession, passion etc. then uh my father runs into a grand jizzwhat follows’s a thing the greater on the way back captures it and puts it in a safe .for therapy. write on for therapy? his father was a vato,well fuck yes. do it and do it and gift-wrapping raining downdo it. i like channeling whitman , , on christmas, wanting to capture fame and getting the pink slip .cuz it’a means wealth, like, iduno it was majestic, slowly hei guess like, [vulgate,vulgate] it drowned in throat cancer, later. my dads hatesis freewheeling all over the place christmas but at least he caught a good fuck in childhoodand without regards -blank- see yukno, i cant write on tumblr atm bcsomething is wrong with my uhhhhhh

keyboard. it doesn’t allow me to , , delete the space between one anddd another line. so i am writing this

to you. it’s probably not really iguess to interesting just see that

infinitesimal cube understood so , ,

uh, distantly, as me here, in thisroom, hanging out with whitman! as

in i see ‘im, right here. he is in

the corner smiling to himself boutsome private meditation, mostttttt

likely. have you figured out this

is a msg in enjambments yet?, youare really cool and ring out , , , , , ,

despite, right?, whether or not or

maybe regardless. PART II : : : :

ERHEM: fast sadness folds in a toilet like down it you know like those soothing squares,gulls take to the particles after response to command goes lagging, and the aqueductexplodes filter to filter after longing for more than garbage could recall, prideful trash–

garbage i done made myself blind blabhah i done made a bad hither, done dash rightinto the fount of degrading. i feel very such things as i feel and call them detritus still.i am monstrous i am - big eye, i can fuck myself without any charity-help from anybody.

i am to call myself things like topaz once the giddy girth sloshes within a pictureframe'smodest dimensions, and the sharks while snapping snapped alive by the implied sortof movement given only to starkly imperishable images that lighten you up at the art

show. well its time t-to start from the start and start a movement founded on a gingerignorance of other movements. is i-t: is time to start from the beginning of focus waypast bemused glance, ripe glare, teeth beside themselves w cavities of roe and garlic:

it’s time to inaccurately anticipate something, like we knew it was coming and wantedour surprise to look nice. anticipate the perfect slur, find a wide audience for that: it is,uh, time to enact maelstrom considerably, like, lofted above the saddest cloud's

drenching of itself: clouds they are clowns : be sure to recognize the hidden voice, what rattles us is not the mystery of how and logical wherefore but in transmuting some oddwarfare of a distant crud's finding, that is - - - it is not what links but what is explained,

which for me is the distance crud, or clod, i call planet : am i a part of it or do i departfrom its frequent accusings, importances, rudeness, and flat commodity, material, orjust shattered booms hailing the demise of precept got so infrequent that one, less

righteous, is more thru the confessional of the lessness, a lesson : us, , rule, , : the sealike an antelope’s stride is, that is, like the picture purely between man, shark, and sea,of slopping sides over the frames of the picture: something by movement not volume,

by not expanse but a few flits of eye - big eye, - regardless of bigness it is, is and will bethere for when the ranting stays, crucial delectable bizarre 'mischance of machinery'while the self goes further out, taken by the turning tides, and then yet this is a bit more

than mangling the heart by placing it on sleeve; this will always be here, distant, or like,remote!, yeh, better word!, you will disassociate whatever from whatever, [editttttttt ttt ]from your blinding clarity [edit] : : you will take an eye out for the bossman cannot : since

wills black as char make the crud, clod, dusty clod, a piece of crud: "shouldn't be sohard to have a nice day." Mutter and grimace. wake up to totally remove yourself inthe only way possible, that is, from the world of dreamstate: and piss dole me a new

self of yuck and maelstrom. PART III : :

drying the die out of to play craps . or somethings like pinochle of life itself, shoutedmadman. made anterior who wants the soul who wants it made outside of use I see.something— / something digs for a very hinting it goes like something as must to stop,

as much to save the world as self by saving declamatoriations [!!!!!] declarations yeas,declaiming . / well go ahead and rue the ensuing bratty corps of lifer’s whom stakemuch on image / nada -rtiet- [edit] editwrite made something is^^^ within that words

them words something letters inverted salamander-language seen spanking new by breaking every rule, ruling over breaks like you had more time. / discovering the body,etc. and it all makes you want to imprint on the wise world some attmept, to do more

by removal of sense if sense is not snuffed out already by now in this senseless world,just going on and on!!!! to the creakiest hints shuffling under floorboards like captivesfrom the bad!! quite the soul search. make more inklings, don't harry yourself, I say,

to discover a bunch of cool shit, also, uh, master it. master thinking in language. maybei always never did nitpick and nitpick only yeup that is me I knit together the nits the nitsare scratchiness, a scratchiness. then I think about how nice honesty is as re the slow

deliverance or rather sparing of us all by the most high / as by and by,, we grope forsome bigger socket to launch a sensitivity of me I we errybody into, and me and ha andha. ALERT. cannot diverge ALERT ALERT ALERT!!! Whoop show./Whopp whoop

whoop, can’t but take it down I wsiwiwsh i wish i was blind, i wish the rails weren’t sosharky : : so bloome [!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!] 5$%uh September 13, 2014. Leave acomment Edit POME34 there is language to report, a monster essence. hammer away

and believe till the growth gets funnier and then throw it away handsomely / feel it runlike sand thurr rthru your thru thru you[edit]hrought your fineger.s ample tome, im eantime, to write, requite certain disposable nothings like a big random power/ mind goes

and glowers at itself again. ah you kno. broken triangle. anything broken becomes anangle or many. a ziggidy line or somesuch. / so break a whole, rift it to life as someziggidy line. some sorta line that breathes with uncaring for anything like information

but retaineing formless form as if your occupation was with something else/ let relax thestrands in you ankel, let the angel fall my dear / dont deny it / yur a good person,dammit. all the se facile blunders. all this. these stupid years of making. in the making,

or just making, about too. etc. greqat. great magnificent quiet [edit] is that which i searchfor and make and build into the most complex geometric shape for good / only to rift itand - - make what people would holy-fy even more bettr than the more better it was /

bby oh how you go on concealing pleanty of plaintiveness. am i nice ?? so what if youare. youre a stara special star . . . yr starved, strande line you ssay you are a bulk of

issues you say you dance like a man made of things .. light as wing . dwindle. wind. lightas wind. so much so much to destroy sitll. my eyes need more blurs t[edit] to in ordermake everything wrong rightwise. foreget aspbergers. or any label / speak pretty

mane’s ruffling sinousity in wind. / a bloke with flow / gnarly [edit] speak charlie stude the sirfur, charlie stud is he who rides the wave, rides wthe wave in /by just meeting witha hello and a hahaha at ripe ombustive ripe combustiveness at / a large offense / or

somethin-o-thatwhy [edit[ do peoplelie??whyjust to defame.finito. thats garbage for you and do notdispose yourself / uh / to uhdisposables adn do not feel like what the yssad said sad that waswhat they said, so many complexes,so much freedom from them at once, to truly notcare is the hardest thing in the world

September 3, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME33i predicted this would be unpopular before anybody else did,my finery is finery and im out of ink made,my disproportionate level of effort to conceive with talent is ludicrous,i am as far away as ever.my mind cracks like a whip against the slab,my spine is scarred,my guts i tangles, my caged feelings nicked subtly subtly over timethey aare ragin dulness nowthey are crept syllogisms into the piece god wrotefor himself,little aliv stuttering bleeding crass and visually into toiletbowlof god, gods shitin my head muttered to translation on pgepage [thats what i meant]no [aa]fukc

September 1, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME32wake up wake up wake up

im sad so what to do about it guess ill write soethingi feel like a really overly cool personi am the volume of valentines written to my sistershe’s a just great sorta personi live within gesture, jeschur is my conretion,i juest. jest i just jest, i feigncompany alive,as if i had company, no, my gf’s in canad.a^^^^^reference to avenue Q. gottastop being out there like i am‘everything goine wild’- convo that pushed into head was that<

drag ciggie,wkekawake / acciednental horizons prim an fancywith frilly nothingnesses all over themstrugn across the tree that is definitely not a 90's rom com montagewhen in the life of release,you sin an sin,enjoyingemancipation. but its lie – 'world in brain'collides innt o this seagulls winged shiftienss shiftinesstheres an orange a piece of one on my keyboardits really smallim pissed off abt itand im streessssed abt this ash growing atop ciggiedragciggiewakesleep up. na ill keep going.that soundd edkinsda like a ENd??maybe. or maybe it was just, like, the true beginning.i like describing change because i hcage so little of myselfi like describing ephemeeral bc im permanentlike a concept / or reason / or ungiven demand.it makes all of it a tangturumtanturmTANTRUMIN YOUR NNEEEDRIGHT IN YOU R NEEDIT LETS A FACEET OF EXPRESSIONS EXPRESS ITSELFSOMETHING LIKE DEJU VA IS HERE[EDIT] [DEELTEEETE] [THIS IS BRACKETS, AS IN WHAT THIS IS WITHIN IS BRACKETSLOVE SUBCULTURE AS IF IT WERE DOMINANT. LOVE BLANKETS LIKE NAPKINS,US KLEENEXES,, AND NAP ON THEM LIKE BEDS. FORSEE EV3RRTYTHING.

FEW SEEFEW SEEFEWSEEeverything. FA FA FA FA

September 1, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME31ive been censoring mysef sincethe day i was born, i have been muttered badlyby the press, i have a look in my eyesthat troubles others, drink the drink of human andparlay a instancee repeat its sultry selfin theck night. move on the cop says to perdestrians,therse ntohing to see here but an old infinity,the new one around the corner is much better, yet wherefore.this is a less selfconcious pome.this seagull is a mystifying keyboardof euphony and pared wisdoms keptin the incubating sun. i smell tar, find myself burningin myself.no way would i tell that tao [to] anyonelike facking you know, its too much gardenfor the beautiful weeds, therestoo much garden seemingly for a few true weeds.mess my ingratiatingness, clean mydirty freedom, non-obsequiosu ma, look ma,i man. IM MAN.man enough to change a tone buefore it complete s its repletionand makes bignBIG GRANDNESS GRAND,and makes a l a law of cranial pursuit of releif only cranialif only.. i have mustard on my paper napkin-– it ahs has been in this family for ages. im erratic, eorotically eratic.ononism is blueballs. but spiritually.like those cuckohld guys who get off on their wives cheating on them.weird,.this izs called me degrading forever which sort of defeats the purpose.i want to be in the belly of the sun.now now, come onnow, be flaovr.BE BLAFLAVORi dreamt of my friend and i eating pizza.it was weird. we werr ein an elevator. super tensuous.it nearly fell. thats on my

mind today. being in that dream elvatorand eharing the wires kinda bargain for slack by eeking lke wives at ratsmaking a metallic sccary sound. also i was on a reality show it sucked i hated it.everyone was coddling me like a super star.it was the worst dream that anyone has ever had, not including myself.i just dream of the worrst shit ever so comparaitviely--everyone dereams betterr dreams than i.asserted qualification is basicaly negation. it is an assumed order.it is an empty hand filled with what you will.it sis the bastion of all love and braianful peacebrainfulpeace, peace

September 1, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME30eat my carnage.eat taste alright.sunken doleful, i sink sink sinkim depressed. [edit]gona say edit when i change something so at leaswtim being tarapsnaranttransparentthi is gritty shit right im sso here and nowi m so soul i m out of control yadda prat goes on prattleingdeserve ettention. like really deserv it. reach for the handkercheifbc im about to tlel you something,its raeeaddly readily made for your sdness,formattied for it,here goesim sad.see that wasnt so hard.im sad im sad im sad. shoudlthere be some sort of catharsis ??am i filled with someuch silence,that i must speak ??well alll is in the attidtude for sure.i cant know how ill feel from onemoment to net he next one doe.not anybody’s fault [i rescind to thinkinglesser thoughts, whatever comesfirfirst after all [somekindaeditnot sure]wierd.im not feeling sad . nonononoononnoi really am . something divided m

in me when i said tat/ that/ uh that t i want sadbc i ma ok HOLD ITwhy are you trying to be this personthat is the other [meditation, i thought about thatfor a sec]why inhabit thie other hmmmmmwellwhat would happen to myself.?i wanna seewahthappenstome, man [uncontrollable urge to have a space and thereby create stanzasare ii already uhm *** i have already done thatbefoere i n this [edit, i am going to add lines to the above now^^ with the present now inhabited between the earlier above and below. this is the mechanism of time quotha.]but you remeber: i said no.i said NO NO or some sjiber gabber, and there was spaces.this is too cshitty even- like / for stanzas to exists. it has to be on its own as won singul fang thing][NOW BACK TO WHAT AI ROTE WEARLIER it is below, right [edit: add 'after' to 'right] after, at the end of where i say ‘sentence’ [edit msipl] at the end of this sentencethere’s my carnage. there u go. missed that probly ,,,<<<just edited that pary too] i added apostraphe when swore not. in therse'''forget it i cant possibley record every single schange in moement. unless i write very deliberately and slowly as if ion a permanent typewritier wwithout the erase part or somethign [edti] &cto. lik fck. and i swear every iedit i will document,tryingh to finger the lord itselfaint easy,theres my carnage.eat up

August 31, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME29next god will wantign us feet in us shoesus will retaliate into becomeing for real out of complacent shelterthe beat of the throb of the meaning of the throbthe lack of sadness or the hsband not non-or the carrying on of the man in the snow,the ritten handkerchief designedly dropt, the local cold summer somewhereand all impressionable, changing as change changes statesand mongers dissolve into the noise, the pettiness, the ocff

coffins that we put on our table and call a receding hairline,we are born. we are clarity. we ar aclarity an d ahavehave a fetish for stepping stonesim trying to lift up my ciggieso ash doesnt fall annoyignly on the computer/ vamp up rampartsthat blow up with sightlier brains,preetier conniptions, overdue results in a tantrum,mass reveal, looking sight up in dictionary,found inanimate ovbjects, objvious blues is conveyed nonsubtle to friendbut the sun still rises. we still rely o nightfallto get wasted,we blare music, discrepant cchords of melody disturbing by voluemeraather than the -non shitty which if heardcorrectly would have complainers on their kneews, i feel good news like christmas:i let christians have unsightly fun in bedi man you know i man., and man usmans us with confidence-as-weapon, a true UFOsinging lazers across humans whom are asiftly burnt to delectable crispsomething about aliens eating humans for food makes me hornyis that weird?iam i a cold hearted sociopath, am i erraticfrom a fathers emotional fumblings ???? or perhaps i aman anomoly, maybe i never matured out of blood thirst, thristy murdr yummTHIRSTY MURDER would be a good name or somethingnana nananana it aitn uh / us / aint subtle uenoughhow now brown car [delete] canned rides like zippycarsdisposaalble cars. just throw it in the drash[dash] and let it be, leti t it begarbage -honey head.dont worry ill get to why i think it aint sbubtleits not idiomatic —- ‘THirsty MEudrder” [delete]i say, has interior rhyme. too obvious like the aswer to the meaning of life,and droll as a cute cuticle plukked just the hard rightness enoughjusy the heaven enough to be / not too comfy / lying prone / in the zone. moan .. …..ENDENDna. nonofck$VJV^It5byOU^(IUCPOIVAWvAVWV{$$gTBIJJ{NOYBUVFVrSBPVShv{VSUU

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August 31, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME28Abruptly everything makes sense as init is a freeig thing, i tis a monster, wathcwatchwhat things come out when u arent lookingand suddenly there there. as inyou first, never me first.someone put s another thing first curciallywhile yu are and everything is their s the noticeing iseverywhere is given them round of ‘plauseme my moahhh. i am estupido -‘those who dont kno thats spanish’dont knoe if thats quotable,mister pink is dead, shot in the headstill amazing,wonder if he was smoking dustheis ame woas quentin tarationo had a beautiful mugtill a bullet lodge-din it. like death must be abrupt too.a mixture or mixing up thod.tho.THO.facking people in the lane over wont stop swervingsee thats quotable but i didnt put quotations in that timeshit my hearty breakfast meal is oevertime to eat more and more breakfast / for all eternity / sculpted skin lotionpretty democt shit rpretty parties. thats all. thwardting feel infeling thwrted is a surpsriset thats abrupt too will / i will the will / to willif i added inetoher will;anotehranother will to that he dowuwould ave been redundant“will i will the will to will the will’ok. lets examine this ****WERKING*****if willing will is itself redundant. .. or wait.ok.. willing will means you are willing to access your will and assert it.

so it could be like,willing to remove doubts about willing will and deciding will the will to willbut you’re not asserting that its deep within.is all redundancy just what happens with doubtful things ???who knos, but my nose shitttttttdeviated from the septum, it went out on its on a nd got a jobjust like donut holes left their precious donut guardians.small likeyou knnowwsamall likttle donut holes / so precious / so indivcative of something greater.something greater,for example how frail everything isand need be / job’s done, time for next. coffee.

August 31, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME27express yourself out of madnessrun into the sun that is a demand, be hotter tha n thae sun,drum the way your heart doesyour your youryoure ‘your’ is interesteig today,it flays around like a banshee, trims intelligent instinct.all these are words, all all wordsobjects. bring me the cranny most local man.drink its vacancy like a fine schampagnebrood over the loss of hchampagne gods their holy beverage is goeneim a goner. i will not ceasetill ive doomed misyslef. your your yourmisees the poisnt. poisonattracts people, but NA is ‘about attraction rather than promotion’ –but it is no poison.. blesse me, its kinda nippy.forgive the curse today.over and over again you forgive it is the only twaythe habit of feeling the weight of the world is like picking your noseyou chip away,you chip away, you want to chip agway,aghast, at light seen thru the daarkessnstill all is darkness and septum deviated, sucz.xman o man. what a today day it is beautiful.gonna sit back and writ foerfever‘my lif ahas been the poem ai would have writ . but i coul dnot both live an utder it’ thoraeauhavent read much throurreau but wanna

read walden / classic / classic just like poop jokes,gruff is thi linear, smooth incandescence the erratic and bad,perhaps this is the equivalent to a blue collar poemby dint of its way of being,even tho--itd be over heads / hell, its over my head / i wish i wcould justwhip / this ‘thinking in vers’ [bloom] thing intyo mshapeor atl east mostion. at least motion. at leastKmotion.lockomotion. fragile peice of scenery that crack sand breaks under the pressures of rifted realityes, doom of each crack / apperanat,apparent apparaetAPPARENT STRIKES BEEFING WITHINN REAL hedalineHEADLING MISSPELLING garner PUBLIC ATTENTIONS, HEADLINE : PIXIES REUNITE TO PLAY AGAINHEALING : A MISTER BUYS SPRITE FOR HIS SCRATCHED UP KID.all thse are phantoms, relegated nowheresor precluded, left out for sakesthe world might be alive,might tremble hidden under the chair, looking at ripped pantyhosein th dark of argument, waiting in anticipation ofor it,fetishizing the armor grownnfrom a completely mad hosuese holdHOUSE HOLDHOUSEHOLD, HOUSE, hold onhold on — I just made an everything a sort / of paradox.because i say i did. i am master paradoxi am master of the universal conditionandd know few of the human oens of thoseones of those / ones of those. echo, my confidant, repeats, affirms speech,and silence is my friend, silence makes me feel popular,i am srounded surriounded i tell youwith a fawning gaggle of silence. it is always at my heelsit is awlaays a blessing to sign autographs to myself and five myselfover and over again,yet severely believe im clapping for somebody else

August 31, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME26assembled out on the abandoned permaneencea queue of others are assigned their ghostly comparisons,them thick and tempered along like as scales for them,rad. feel shitty. im useless. thinking about drewit sucks. so many regreatables. os many others that havea new take on selfhate etc. make me delightful

to be around oh yeah..

August 30, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME25ive deicided to run a smear campaign against those who believe the universe is a hologrami mena you know, get with it, what is flat and what is dynamic,who knows, i could be a puppet with puppet movementsto some higher subtlety. howcould you. ‘rest your eyes in waking light’ – beckrest by waking up.i wish it oculd be a rspite.i wish i made everything by my awareness easier for me to seeand digetst. maybehone day. i can honly hope for one daybecause one day is all we have lieft, i am waring a blanekt over my kneeslike a grandma. i am a zombie with trillions of eyes.i am a pod of groceryies shephardedfrom the nearest ca gas gas station to where oyou happened to have broke down–startenn to cry ovfer your care breaking downyour car breaking down while you just squat on the front siet of the vehicleand deny hyrdration. following a skeleton is the best you can getwhen it comes to being a spy. like,not that hard to follo goddamn it its a sckeleton after all dont--see many of those oh man i must think im so clever and ‘out there’ withan unbelievably horribd jokethats lampooning humor by bombing humorouslytake your lye in the morning, before rigor mortis,PCP is embalming fluid.my lungs are dead. PCP smlls like markers.its not like what they say – on pcp youre totally out of it,ya dont watn to make a million vinesad n get a million finesa cross a million lines or something that isnt whats it i figure i have to sya,like, jumpbled^^^^ all that’s jummbledim gonna leave that line about ‘rhyming’ as those astutely stupid anoughcoudl vigure outttttt DUHno. done. fragment. blessing. achoo. bless you. rhyme a dimewith your mom and get a mime. mimes are creepy . / i alwqays hated the circusand hated being dracula. somesubjects always wreturn to their masters. prodigal prodigies takea left turn and flatten tire on harsh terrain.lots of gas but we’re strandedmight as well / get some liptons, i used up my triple a

and i or he irsomeones walking back to their own personal middle of nowheresurching for midwife to big thot [big brother]came the sun and lost the [hologram] with the coming of the sunaand everything wass REAL ANDT THINGSWERE the same all over again. tautological hoodwinking. career skeleton criminal.spacey husband leaving the dinner table OH MY GOD SPIDERS EVERYWHEREmaybe these are ticks, i dont know, woollen stuff is itchyand feelsl iAND FEELS LIKE there is something inside of it all the timetrying to twitch at you, so as to make you freak outabout what amounts to theoretical monsters in reality a law of all string that strings cannotBE FRAYED KNOTS, IM AFRAID NOTE [delete]

August 30, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME24the first step is pressing the ‘new post’ buttonthe next step is actually writing soemthing,i sometimes like enjoyr really sad music,im listening to airhead right ow bc i am an airdheadi feel my legs shift in my pantswhat else can i recorduhh thoughts on no questionmarkor saying huh questionmarklike questionmark as word instead of ‘?’ i feel the variety nowthis is when i swerve in anotherdirection get ready for itits when my eyes get all blurrylike when i look at peoppel,i cant take looking at people in the eye u but mustafeter all its curious especially if your e s seroious aboutwhat your saying, ,, buti just gotta sayi must so,like,uhhh [pause] i blur my eyesight or vision / what have you / bc i need to look but i--see too much soul in the eyes of another,i think have alwys thought that was it and it helps me focus onwhat they are sayig instead of the staggering beauty of the soul in their eyes[whosever eyes]which is the important think, just not culturlaly exceptavble.it shld make more sense to do whatever you can to listen,like tilting yourhead away so as to focus on the words and get in tunnel vision [delete[]\

just recorded me deleteding somethingis that ‘live blogging?’ just, trying tobe as honest as i can here. maybe this seagull’s [delete] a few words- -is my journal , i deleteding this andnd that.forego explanation.quesitomanrks dont exist.maybe more fluid and a little interesting stylescomes out [remove not remove, 's' donet ahhheehh]you canmakeitmeanwhatever.too much foucsuson whatevir it is im focusing on no no tight lipped my spine says,youre good. youre gangbusters. youre on the right track--/ hjust keep the / party moving fellas/ im afraid of spiders. there are spidersin my room, its an attic. lots of spideres in this attack.ive killed like fiv sesenese since ivebeen here, here here cheers.swerve???^^^^pretty shitty try again dumb assholeyou obtuse man HOW CAN YOU BE SO OBTUSEfamily guy pardoy of shawshank any way i guess [delete] writing about eyesightand gblurringnesss is the same of wanting to focus on tryingto crack the moment like a safe to reap as much as can to deny any stiffness to keep writing without worry for anythign that might come out just doing it i usd to write i suud used to startout by writing ‘just write it doesnt matter what comes out]’thien id write garbage but after awhile soaw sawa patternwhereing / k/ i eventually made some musical lines, who knowsthis is , is it obtuse experimenting questionmark [delete]or trying something new merely--or ptor protesting against formalism, which i have take takneTAKENTAKENso dear, maybe sense rises and then you clip that,but what if you used the peripheral rinds, trashed the orangeand wrote poems to spirdersand spiral ed into core ofeddy and stayed therelike , you were still-/ there / you . cannot bless figurationwith anything like reality / it is remarks / but maybe you can blur the lines of languagejust to see into the soul of gods eye, a doorknob, its pupil the push-in lock.and the walls open up. grace exists suddenly.i mean to refrain fromthat and go on to the next stop. i missed my stop on thebus -t-uhm. that was a story i wrote a story :::::: it was about / a guy who goes on buse/then some guy next

to him, uh satra ts fjjkrlthstarts crying openly bawling in publiche is a shutin and haides him self —it was called [the great faker]he is so engrossed that he misses his stop, something so taboo to the guy, just right therein front moof him.–just there.justhe is freer for someoesnes elses risk,then all of a sudden it rains acid and everyone runs in /exactly . the same way / to church / faces melt etc.give me possibilityes yes like saying questionamark isntead of [?] thatsa good conceit, concepts, etc brawn of brain and little impish liminalson the outside, not round it like marshal mathterrs said[whom]i listend to when i was twlve all the spiders in the worldare bitting me or is it=/ perhspssPERHAPSPERHAPS uncertain shifts in clothes, so senstivitive to clothesor a clot in the bloodflow, andETC.

August 30, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME23impermanence makes me do a pazzamezzodubbing over the real is an anouncement about how crack disablespeople. nuance whistles upon a shaded tree like as,but not wind. a fine tune, rappingon the door--makes pigs afeard of wolves anfor the reason, very reason thatall shifty natures are inspired from within not withoutthus, it is personal,it is very personal the wolf is angry at his father for beating himand takes it out on cracksmoking pigs justwanting to have a laugh or two. if youve never seen a crackpipewell its a beautiful thing. like a beautiful like impermanence thing,that traipses down the sidewalk to the whistle / of construction workers,like those who live by ‘hard knocks’ and ‘walk tha talk’ and‘feel around for the lightswiqth while-.. coughing / absentmidnedly,done with rigmarole, im done with your shit oh gwardmy dad will be pissed , ,i spent like seventy bucks on books on amazon,

i guess it’s my birthday soon but still. ahhhh trippidissngly on the tonguesof my fingerbpads go that word birthday. i tryped itfluently, without mistake, just quick. quickas ‘a fart in the wind’ likethat warden says, from shawshank redemtpitionthat movei got me into moiveis,its so fucking hauntingit might as well be a hauntied hause for hosw scary and grisly it isand everyone goes’boo’in itexcept the audience who applaudi heard this story about AMADEUS showingat a movie theatre, it got a standing ovation in a theatre, movie theatre,lik waht. you dont get applause in am yovei o movie theatreunless its uhhhhhhhhsuper good. meanwhile i scrathc a spiderbitee undr my armpitand wonder as i always doo whether it was a ‘balck widow’ bc that,,,,would suck. id end up in hellwithout a single stick of deodarant, all to show for my deatha mieasly spider attack, as usual, a disappointment.now im going to do my prayersfor all the crackhead pigs in hog heavenbecuase there was no room in pig heaven, hogs are eviller, dhuh, i mean you ever see a hog?it looks fukcing scary and you cant really eat them,like what the fuck are hogs for ??can you eat them ? the question arises then falls into nil,then eats up the vacuum of garbage against its willand processes fleetingness, o swillo swill, i love you wont you tell me your name repeat repeat resign resign resign [10,00 horsescry what shall i cry? TS, ANSWER ME NOW, YOU BETTA ,,, !

August 30, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME22an ugliness is hatethat stands a porcelain cherub with his pants down,cries a bit, admires flaws, which as everyone knowsare secrets everyone know scan i bite ?? sure youa maybut its not about whqat i have to say, its notit is about the creation of all living thingsif things could be said to express lifein the wordlpool where they werrcreated out ofpandemic multitudes made of cardboard

effaced and bashful with their bodies,looking a way others dont looksos they dont get hist by carascarsssCARSamativeness is a good trait in phrenologywhitman was obseesssed with p-phrenology.he used that word alothis beauty was beatrice but wolrd‘intesnyly private and elitsitc’ harold bloomore more moremore more moremore more moer

NO

August 29, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME21i dont know what anything is anymoreit seems my brain refuses to let me in i have a thing or two to sayto it that it wont listen to anyway, thatit will just go on and on groping is the only way,while i place at the alter of sadness all my brain tissue,think of paradise, imagine the right way, think about ideals and shit,ring in my ears the essentials for a perfect torment, mysteryits locomotion, and epic the epicand the spread a widespread, finally cooing smallfrom the picture of the woman on the beach, sitting thereis to Barton Fink a bigness unrealized, just a meditation tillin real life we all shelter the symphony,in real life,and find ourselves outside the door again. give me this, this one tapestry,this thing i need to think is final as beans, final draftthat is a first draft. i wonder but am not . . . s’wounds!you think it isyou think everything is today dont you ?? i am all aboutthwarting perception. whats this voice ?? can you, can you starta dialogue delightful with this place of space, doncattiness but behind your eyes a miserere,everyone unknowing as despite it all youre vicious, youre just an idolsmacked off the stage/page / gimme ambivalenceso’s i can shw yu aa picture of a woman--in real life/ time/ lifetimes of canned corn in the bunkerjust sit there. oddity places a napkin on the poor quilt as if that would help.

dont stop dong, youre a stupid.what about the dialogue. shit im before myself all the time.‘before god’ – -SKierkegaard my hearts beating all the time.thats amazzing.but i wouldnt have thoughts about being before myself if i wasnt.as in i wouldnt have this menacing tension to express at allif every time i did i dint think i leftanything out, sometimes,sometimes music is textures of little idols, nasty crudmen,clean you ears out. get the crud outta ur ears, listen to the design,Sufjan Stevens. maybe thats who im channeling, talking to.ive been editing this one too much as writing , i should just stop thinking about speeling atall ojs just keep going like a raving raver at a rave,blablabla foreign scenarios. they interest me/ all this hate in words make blood pump good

August 29, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME20instant matter misfits make morals queer ones reallyinstant matter misfits say this makes itself sensewere all to be sense, all would live finallyand be without a throne. listen here:im finally not final,just difficult and bored with my soul.wars make themselves heard across the globe w/ pretty explosions,donate money to me for no reason,clickbait is my shivahi love being noticed, pure being ain’t enuffdrizzle some more vinegar [pause] over the capresei said that to my mom once,instant matter misfits dont care. they are dronesthat create prisons of stuff, reality, etc.pithy statementpithy statementand then something about hitler wiht nic spence[and a conscious mind]and all of sudden i respond and feel right,little do i know all it is is contextual finagling. this makes me haeaheated. mad. crazy sane i am. i love being a commoner.just one of many.together we can make the world really boring

August 28, 2014Leave a comment

EditPOME19she wants to get a rise out of me but i wont let her,see truth everywhere instead,live lif accoridgin to scruples of happiness,play myself out till a coherent person comes outfill things with other things, words with other word,my gripe it. my gripe is [dont edit]i wowords are more than thingswwords cansimultaneously give powere to the inexpressibleand explain everything completelywords are my best friend man i lov iti wont wred theis over until its publishedim just sitting here in a chair writing about chaosanstuff:my aunts came to visit. theyre cool. talked with my ant julieabotu heroin. my gf asked if the needledreams ever stop.she said she didnt believe so.SOSSOShelp help‘im glad i asked even tho thats not the anser i wanted’without aying saying -she sadi said –eijwithout sayin -she said-does that seem n’not connected’ with the previous statements?did the SOS kinda separate things?i ask bc i wanna be selfconscious that is alli wanna leaf no stone unturnedi wanna stream of waterconcsiocusi fuck i like to fuck. thats good for you. well then.see i tooka break from this now im rwting againneed some to rev myself up for another day of recording every thot that comes into my headits like i have to wait for the thots,much less the time to have them, the time when they comeand moreover to leaf no stonunturned, i have to capture them before they take off bricklsly—–brisklyback to the corners of my hearti will have to bribe my heart, by it energy drinksim drinking some tea i guess that works got a big jugbut i want to be able to not drink caffeine to work but shitis that even possible

i mean the only time i feel good is after that first cup of coffee that garfield comic strip was rightlike whe garfield look s like deathuntil he drinks coffee, thenall of a sudden the shit is shining out of hsi assholethats how i feel, its bad yobut for now ill deal. this needs more coherence,i wna tow the line between / chaos and order/ kind of like, explain nothingbut explain something because of that even by the stating of my goalsi deal in obvious so lucki for me my mind is way insane enough to be subtle about what it thinks is obvbecause some folks probably have differnet views of what is obvious,lik,the words : produces a problems it does:when can we really know when we explain it all if that depends on everyone on the planet in consensusshit that s a conundrumbut im sick of eopel people sayig ‘we’llprobably never kno”

August 28, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME18i made a lion in a room i made it be in a roomslahser flick status it ripped open it was done with unrealit struckrreality / in the fase. reality was defffazed. whatsup my broether.brew in the couldron. ok ok get real be like the lion--the image was given. all is good. allresists a prated sirum serum, i keep thinking birdsare what is actually the piano.prated i dont kno . prated ‘prated’huh. wonder whattaht means it didnt show up with red squiggly linesbasiaclly ever other word has red squiggly linessignifyin a typo.but i promised myself to get the lion out of the room.it ate the two men in with it.twisted, tho queer, fate. i have waited 25 yrs to scratch my chinand now’s the time, ‘so don’t waste it’ something sed.i feel kinda high for some reason like ya kno? im not altered, just .idunno. i hear it now ‘cretin’ ‘manic’ ‘crazy’ ‘rambler’ ‘dim’manic hits me e hkfj hites me the most.i kno mania.know it well. but it doesnt even matterbc of like ‘methinks tou dsust protest too much!’

i get mad usually abt people thinking im mad like dave i relate to him in that wayim so sorry dave, i just, i donnu. i throw my hands up at all my shenanigans/ just ahhok ddone. / pity parties are the best replacement for real parties /acordingto tha national census bureau.also have trouble spelin that shit ‘bureau’it’ s a word i like to spell howeva.i wonder if im ADD ‘U TINK?””i hate incredulity. i have my styles andtechniques.this particular technique [i shudder] happens to be manic soundingsevere the head sever the dead from death so’s they live again andgetto the first turn of the second stair i reallylike ash wednesdaylike how did eliot do it. / i wanna fuck his language / i wld go gay for TS ELIOT.my elbow hurts. my writst too. control the pain,siphon it to this. one sec, gonna chnge song. IM REMARKIG ON THE NOWit’s so cool because by doing this you who readeth does it with me im sureyr experience is as close-a-s mine to what i feel. im just beheaded from mesef so. wait.meserf? critiquie.petty phrase. wallace stevens critiqued his use of the phrase ‘petty phrase’which itself cld be a critique of itself, problem and solution all at oncestevens is atomic like that Bloom called browning a psychological atomist,dont kno bout that. wait i have to holdon–for meyself.i am listening to HOARESE by earl sweatshir i am trying to type with ecig in hand ‘poor quality bar flicks / dub de forty on a door hinge’ all this is good, is a good. crisp.

August 28, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME17theres something behind my ears i call it a shoalits all creakyit lives late into the nightits a migraineits the scoops out of your brainits fine time for me to ask you what tha deal iswho is, no, you know its me dont gimme that garbagetouchy. touchy. then write some people forgetthey understand.but that wasnt me or you its likei have a disease in my clairtywhat you spose it isim asking you because the reader is godi have an internal dialogue with the reader

i assume the reader is godhyenas comes to mind because i was going to write – ‘laugh’i can only remark on thenow in this be patient vigilant ey ey captannonsense words flourish in my head like empty heavinesseswas it me who asked you or you the readrwho initiated the convo. i see your eyes reading this bullshit.ya like it dont ya.ya wanna have massive sex with all this dirty smelly shit.you wanna carve out the orange and eat the rindso that u can embody nonbiodegradable. you lie!!!!some how god left-– so igeuss its not you either. mayebe i like saying,the readr is important as god which uh ah is true, little finaglingsreuin everything RANDOM THOUGHT ALERT :my dads wuz talking aboutthe point of improbabiluyyty improbability.i thought of that movie michael clayton. george clooney flick.his son read shim this fantasy book and one pagehas three horses on it. ona hill just there in atrigna triangle. later in the movie, he is drivnn [lclooeny]and comes across the exact same image irl.gets out of car to examine. a few theatrical minutesof him–uh socoping scoping lokin,baffled at the horses then hes car explodes also another part,clayton gets in a taxi says ‘just drive’so underrated. credits roll and he’s just in the car.all about corrupt business politics. i somehow relate to that.its pretty hit home for me. theres some brown stuffon my eye’s corner, , pulled eyelash to fix my eye yet again something is definitely wrong with my eye dude

August 28, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME16this guy had poor manners and he had glasses onhe refused to leave the room he was an uncle or somethinghe climbed up a latterone says,one’s wife :: she was likedamn. he he he.always very crude WITTGENSTEIN thot SChop. was crudeculture and value is cool to pick up andjust readxthis guy hadporr manners he’s like stagnating he fell off the latter

ad n and nan screamed saw him fall old fella. he died.nows hes in a bog. a n ogre drinking- – -nos to scoop up verily verilythe life of true soul’s atonomy autonomy atomizer. thatreminds me i have to smoke ecig. hold on. done.just kidding.didnt’ even smoke it yet its just write thereon my belly. jesus im fat.fat porkpie hat. thatd be funny if i actually had a proke[ei prokieppieprokpiePORKPIE [had to look at screen to focus on makin right. im rigged,jf klehqrjhwekgehrjg berhfberso much for that. this ppoems already so lie-ish.for one i didnt even smoke ecigfor the other i dont have a porkpie hat and no it wouldnt be fatat that , clap lcapl clap, audience wrestles with deep feelings after the playHEADLINE: mourner goes into hidingin a shanty somewhere. swampy deathplace. foul and symmetry uncle looks forhe is afraid of ladders. at the start of the ips this ‘POME’ por favor listenbc i have no idea if this is important, but you shld think sobecause then youll feel really happy i promise just see wt it is for what it is herebut like still working ongetting out the void. whats outt mean. duhhhhstoppit. ok. take breather. smoke ecig. i have the dauntingpremonition that once i stop making clicking noiese on this rectangle dispatchedanglewise at a litl less en 90 defgress degrees oops ‘oops’i cant shake this feelingthat im actually really gonna come up against some obstacles,maybe practice dont make perfect:dan what di d you say oyid youd do? oh yes. smoke ecig.i cant stomp out all the commenting inof to stop clinkcing noises.nosy pulse. anguler angel of demon of angels brahmins samsara hell is allengage the suffer ing of the wolrd SChop was onto somethingtaken sensus proprio- which from what i understand means ‘as it is, as if it were an actual event”the bibles just plain absurd. i need to read his thoughts on religionagain. they wre very interesting.philosophersh ave a tendency to give up. maybe tht was whatludwig wittgenstein was talking about.the pheenomenon wherein weare uplighted by feeling small whcih to god would be blight deffgod is not grain. it is a beautiful fightwe have her.e tonight everyone against every one else HEADLINE, HEADLINEbroken suspender.s cash machine of images.oh yeah and see this is sreally something yawp like, i shall sound mybarbaric yawp over the roofs of house -whitmanpeople like to quote’i contain multitudes :::::::::d o

[space, conscious desicinn for space there in do, [doodoo. dodo pird, P is upside downlower case b. revelations glarlore mads wisdoms mmmyss my pretty.pretty FATohhhh snapdiddleIM SO OFFEND U SHLD BE VERY OFFENDED A T MY VANITYthis is for everyone bc i love everyonewant the last line to be about suspenders, meaning initiated, warpdrive //stars get all line-y.STRAW WARTS. lamppoon of star wars obvious ly. yo i shldntthinki ur tupid or tepid. mybad about this trashy garbageness. flair public restroom tatos on your abdomenwhat–whats was is aying before ?????????????????????????????????? ?bla WWE is the best i watch tv all day errydayi get horny about girls getting really dumb from doing drugsbutthen it suddnely is really depressin. i think0its about som submission fantasy, that im better or something.shuddup portnoy [philip roth] sexual anxietes: waht if ‘sexual healing’was called that instead and it was by stan the biggestfan this side of emeinsmeenms fat motherhateboardride the hateborad– ass. ameinan amirite????? trickle.??????????/i forget. OH MY GOD I NEVER SMOKED ECIG. this,its about suspenders. thcx relly lcleared it up fr meh

August 28, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME15burn hands,oy!! austraalinas say thatbritish epeoepl ccalciggies fagsi think i wanted another word to start with that –o–but i just wved my arms greeting peopelin the art gallery. a waxen face,waxen people observing pores. as cosmic lore goes,

everything is because of nothingness,infinite variety from one vacancy, one spot to fill butthe ushers cant find the poor soul--who msut ahve lost here ticket.dontdont no non odefamiliartian. martian phantasms.that movie the fourth kind was bogus.i heard. conspiracy theorists. my friend believes in the illuminati.i always gotta ask why im doing something in my headbecause of how futile life is, or somethingi made a friend of smokey the bear,then lit him on fire: he made a wonderful funeral pyre:entrapped release :: the poetry of crying in a fetal positionor your grandmother walking in on you masturbatingin the poo-shanty [ammons] o my ezra.he had all difftypes of slagn he had three diff dialects he was into biology that is ammonsbut he used the complec terms in conjunction with plainspoken, reglur speech, i amnot gonna finish that thot. – might be imposssible without sayingwhich thought i mean. i wasgonna say ‘not gonna fiishd that thot’ as in ‘i am’but thats just given ownership.some phrases are so small, they’re like chameleons.ammons as a fan of nature.. thats awesome.like justin vernonplaying in the woods all alonei never saw that other flick about the fguy from collegedropping out to do the whole live ON OWNTHING. LIVE ON OWN THING.maybe i can just keep dividing until literally nothig is leftjust spread so far thin that it disappearsthen is that a type of nothingi always thot one type, there was uh that tehrwas one type of -halt- nothing. only on nothing that madeevery damn fingerprint drastically varied.if i touched ammonsid probly get in prison for violeating his crib in the skies“im not dead”^^^thatTHATthatatm is all moments. people dead ones thatis will just refuse to believe it and that they arereally dead. vulgate is like common speech.de vulgari eloquentia by dante is fascinating as it records

all manner of meter and which hails most from wherein italy, but its complec but itsthe one first lit crit piece of writing. sestinas ar difficult.dante gabriel rossettiof all people wrote a grate sestina, a english-——transl-rieatal tith4 ahem, ah- a great english [delete delete stuff in every actionbe of moment] translation of dante. something abouta woman transforming,into mossy rock and grass at the foot of a pondor stream etc idunnoitalian is respectable poetically of course tho.had this italian hair uhm barber harit cut guy he saisto me: “do you kno danted?” we hadbeen speaking aboutwhat i wanted to be, i said i want to read stuffand stuff -si so oh i said yes [soho soho]my eyelids are like dumbells–but idonnabout all what i said beforeit is waht it isisi what it iswhat it isit isitgod^^^ thats once you get past geneder.god to me retains more honor by being a sexless forcethat simply thru grand coincidence honored a sort of conscious action type thing,like it just so happens that signs are everywhereso we shoul go to lunc i said that one point many points agomaybe all this is cutting hairs tho when i wast 18 i had a lot of problemsat watat the vein attempt to live i HAD PROBLEMS AT THATweird linguist mischance leads to new way to view things, more at elevennext time on matlock‘next time on matlock’if i put things in quotations not so scarywhen i was writing that link to here,i put ‘experiment ‘ in quotationsbc this is so so so trash. just me writing thats all.pivoting seagull shldbe the name of a bandname ofofitof it.. whoooooa mind blowrn chrudeemy asian friend

had a funny kewl way of saying moustache ‘moustache’lazycritical stoppit ah thatshould be in quotations so stoppit. all this internal dialoguewill be fun to sift thru so on,can fine where one thaout ends nd aother begins.eyes half open took trazadone--bunch of other shit tooi really want to list every single med ive ever been on and submit it to sara lawrencein lieu of an application.sucking clit is the key to finishing her off. this month’s cosmoacts likeits for twentys girls. really golden girls.if they made a god who is gold enough to free them from bei ng unable to breathei haded being painted on my face,i hated being draculafor ahlloween. it was probl y one of the worst experiences of my–life– and now, like the way CHRIST MOEsaid mustache,dont remember either, ya

August 28, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME14fine i wont grab the last BLANKBLNK is theonly person i can look upt o to,squeeae squeeze squeeze squeeze squeezei fell les the more a squeeze ‘squeeze’ into a nothingi feel less about itwhat ?? so whati had an idea. i shld just comment and comment.press like –it has nuthinto do with where you are in liking it.‘no one liked that’well yeah, so what yonosne nonsense. people could have thot it was ok just didnt click likehow can yoo base your self on whims like thatmake no sense already sed thatmy design is akin to the monkeys writing shakespearejust typing shit . untilhamlet comes out EXCLUSIVE soakthe water isnt on.its not on fire. this is wrong. life life ,ass. stop being a hardasss on yrself. i dont kno who i am pls dont kill me

wanna make a design for this but all id have to do is keep pivoting the seagullatlas sound is a good band sonic youth is difficult,i can make commentary ^^^ SEE I TOLDYOU. scary enjambmnet. enjambment ok: it means splitting a thoughtbetween linesRHYTHM,or something like order blossoming from chaosor even just shifting aroudn ldk like if you just moved your thumbi had to say that to ignore it would have been to deny what im trying to do here which is–awsome slef consioucnsesnn a spring of jaguar. chink achang,clocking in yr taxes. parataxis. paid this imagery--bill / ‘save it for your baby’ / thru the doorway girl ahs has ic nice hair, look o’ ice,shes wound in aces,. shes all about livingla vida loca. stupify! thats a charm from hary botter. s o is expellisuarmus.ur allowed to use em, but not the the theiunforgivable curse. insert soul here. ok: big: i just cant seme to scream rightanymore. . the door closes on whats her face in the end of tthe godfather.she played annie hall in annie hall.woody allen is cool i especially like when he pulls ahlafl eaten sandwichfrom the floor of annies car [annie hall drives like a maniac]also it is my opinion thatannie hall, uh, is what will remain after the apocolypse. evryhting elsewill be topsy turvy and nothing will makesense but this movie will remain untouched as cockroach cities in nuclear winter,YES THE NEXT GEN OF SAPIENS WILL BE COCKAROOCHIANSjust u’uge. hug me. im sad cuz i didnt write for a second. that always makes me sad.lovely wishbone cut upon open door. close door on whats her face.diane keaton!! gotahca. damn. i shld kno that. she played-————Pacinos wife. wanted a family.pacino represents the naiveteof a life emphasizing the mob, hsi anxiety is to succeed,which he fails.well i guess id say,give me true complacence,id want out tooo. ‘out’. i wonder if i will ever bein a mental state [vegetative most likely. my grandmother had alzheirmersshe mistook me for my father and that is a sad thing.]^^^addendum: after the service irecited milton’s lycidas a lil. my mom was pissed i didnt do a good jobon my end of the year projctevern tho i got a b plus , , ,worked ass off on it well – bitch moan but i say, i sayshe yelled at me and i retaliated and she wentto cry in tha car. i hatdto go saysorryshe was a angyy person back then.

mistakes. anyway would i ever BE IN A MENTAL STATEwhere id forget hat the word ‘out’ means,i am reminded of apoem louise gluck wrote about depression,some thing ; uh [forgetting incorrect punct. there]that old senile folks / speak about the spirit, andthe soul,and all thewhile they do not kno the word for chair entropy, entropy

August 28, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME13i am a disgusting whorei like to spank peoplei like being a pretend beingi have finally reached the tree hosuse. househosiery. pantyho:–se. i used to smell my mothers pantyhose.that reminds me — i made some shit about mymom’s straining pantyhose wigling string therewhile i hid underthe table i lied about that butits tits [tits hah] it is a vivid imageapparently you can make that shit up.confession: im really boring i never do anything exciting.i throw extravaganzas in my headwhen my parents arent home.i drink five hour energy and lose hope.i get wired on coke and feel awesome.get really focused.blow is rich man’s adderal.fiend you fiend‘we come to bury caesar not to praise him.’well ‘caesar or nothing’ is pretty praise likeno wonder you’d fail.yr born with a natural wrongness.severed from yourself. fear and trembling made me cry yo.kierkegaard. id read it -adn and cry on the subway it was awesome people looked at me.still sitting here. remembeirng that is cool.on my way to worki would listen to eyesore by teh band women.it was great. spent my howl paycheck.lived for the weekendss- you kno that kind of existence.etc. i was a janitor and i still am reallyexcept the garbage in my head invisible becomes garbage on the page in a physical seeable form,

thats all. dont judge me cretin. smell my feat etcammons saidthe edge of the universe must be a smelli was. uh. i was going to go for the trick or treat-lampoonbut decided against it. the song keeps saying it let me down. why dont worry.itll be okay i forvgive you sogn.song.!!seriously. i always listen to mussic forgot to mention that. this hackjobmust be so boring to you. im really sorry. its just i need all the xrpression i can get.i whore out the words to the web. poor words being yused so porrly--am really. reall y. really sorry for themthe words. shit. i wanted to add a pants to that.is this literally what im thinking write now or is it just because i need to write somethingthat i think at all. ia. am i just a blank stemhuman clone thing,all other timesdo i save my modern innovations and really great ideas for bloggingwell thatmakes me feel instignificatn. insifgificant. i am shakyi have been uh drinking coffee a lot. i like it ililke motor oil. like that shit is boss,boss coffe e buzz. another THING: i am clean from drugs.i like it. so much of me is gone forever.it is really dispiriting/. i am/ fragmant man/ broken machine man/i am colossusi am he the master of foggy mistdundencyor misty fogdundancy ..actually both for good measure.i cant make a book where i think about every word yo that sht is hard.curse like a sialr.. sailer. time to groundurself/ dan/ speak out against ALS or referreees that are assholes / speak about important thingsi urge myself. but do i really feel that ?????? ?woh so pretnentious you added a space for the other wqustionmark.like whe u do thisits like u do not know what is deliberaterely on just gut. gut . gut.like fuckboi who u is?i am dopeless hope fiend, i was once a hopeless dope fiendas they siay. maybe siamsese cats are on my mind cuz i keep doin ‘sia’ thingor that lady singer sia who’s pretty good,yeah thats gay and girlydont carei like sia. maybe its not so bad. maybe i just revealed my own judgments of people there.im open minded tho. i doubt i am open minded but that doesnt stop me from being sowhoreswhoersim really taking advantage of languagei shld apologize,

like this is awful nobody whld have patience with this i / just / really. wantto connect with someone. but im scard of it.i prefer living behind this screen for some insane reasonits inane and insane in the membraneehwe wee all over this pivoting seagullseagull say: put the smelling salts under hookers nose.u shldnt hav slapped her that hard. jdugement day again. the sun esxpldoingdecided to just skip over it and go straightto just plain carnage and void. death ahhwhat if they made a groundhog’s day about bill murray reliving the same day of the apocolypse

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME12i want vacant space to blow up in a mess. i want justice.lemme get into the shadow cmon please.make me big with weeping,what is on my mindis a thing i dont ever kno. its anooying.fuck man true that glob glob globmaybe i shuld talk about uhmmm free willhere is what free will is. uh.its when we do not succomb to whonder. fuck idunosome thing stupid like that. heres another idea:big things can be--smallto othee bigger things than it. therefore the direction of atomsis totally lengthwise like uh– well they cldbe other planets, other universes. nuetrons protonshovering around a nucleus w sicti citire cities on them.there we go. that some interestingshit. tooka chance with that one o baby i did.fuck just dropped ash on my shirt itwas celan cleanbut celan is a famous post holocaust poetvery dark exp. the straitening.like whoa u scare me man what did you seethe title itself is not only eee erire eerie but straight as a knife,some kinda clinical “is is safe ” from marathon man,whats his face laurence olivier tortured dustin hoffmankept asking about uh his diamonds.i wonder o hip it wold would be if i said something about searchingfor what i was seeing, which ends uphaving something to do with diamonds lasting forever

but it wasnt that dumb i swear i was thinking of something interestingwhich end is up no not that either man my mind is weathered,when what ends up is nothing, uhshortof a miracle see the small and short stuff a make a line of of their ownkinda like an atom can be the largest thing everif it was the only thingthats inneresting. feed me more. i dont kno im no entertainer.i just like theories. oh yeahnow i treamble to get out out f preamble to remember:i always coffunse confuse lawereneece olieir oliveiretcetc. with sidney pioiteir, he’s blackhe was in the heat of the nightfirst black dude to win an academy awardsaid- ‘they call me mister gibbs’slapped a honkey, it was awesome, ahead of its timelike were talking fifties, racism sucks. most awful thing ever,unfathomablyawfulughmeander meander i do i do says future wife. wholl that be:only time will hell, i mean tell. i will thru hell,or i will hell tobe. to be.erase and keep,if the tyos po is typo is weird enough ill keep it or maybe not really no no actuallyi just am doing automatic writingnow i firgured it out i figured it out NADJA is a great buekBreton’s the manweirdfound artdefamiliarizationbig and little, just expressly abstract delineationgsdont make sense, make less sense you make more sense bc yur just saying in essecne essence oopsho w ignorant u is. kings and and barracudas.what tis there to drudge up, tie up vomitous like a baffledsome guy making his gang sign like a bafflednews spreads thruout the cosmic plane some guy pretended to be god and people actually believed him

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME11rhyme reason and salty seacaptainsdone it up, pirates i said berfore to do up.this

thisthisthisthisman i hate no no cantsay that.this goes existigdespite everything i stand for. its rotten.blind. gutsty or atleast iam entertained by this bravery. john my cuzdoesnt like me. i just stopped writing when i said this.this is real time. this is me writing. i am writing.here ya go it’s – a present ofor u man hop--to the tune all the wayto the ballooning subject. this song by yoni wolfsaid blalons calumny i am plagued to be thot of as oddshit. w.e.its not about anything but just beleding wordsas i fit them into soft numb heroin indeuced demo tapes.that wsa in the song too . demo tpaes. edens daed.this is likeuhgreat.fuck wow ssuch a great topic. i dont kno that topic.lemme intro document you to the topic. seers. like. let brandingspeakfor you fakeyman. great faker. the tppsic is aboutbeing fake. i like the raw. dont fake the rawtht0– maenas means that that meanswhatever.gropig for fact and reason,listen: the car’s at the impoudn lot,dont kill ur self.had to be injected w narcam, she did. heart stopped two mintues.oh baby why’d you do that. it makes me sad.but being sad has a certain happy clarity

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME10the onlly action hath been thoutsi feel around for a poem and find this w/ experience, truncationgets bbeautiful. i like trends that die outso i can laugh at them. i imagine a jiant poemi am to write.it is there. it is this i wanna say. just this one.it is going to be so a long pome.

i miss writing long shit. i like my brevity in some pieces.but i need to escape more.theres this desperate need to escape- these are gusty feelings,shvir shiversom leaves. worn, wizened,too tired to live but i live anyhoo. holy holythey used to say. used to ask me about god nshit. why i couldntreally say it right ever : and still can’t: shit’s unfathomable, lawless,disorderly order but not disorder as order because its notdisorder it is order, just jumpbled, mesed up,grunting a pack across vacant terrain.live live, look at all the live, fife play fife playfor the life of me.i drum speaking at the same timeyou cannot hera hear ofver the drums this is getting shittynow. i willl just keep writing. it wontmake much sense it will just keep going because i need to escape.this means adding morenonsense – just so i can explain it later. aleatoric,halting, stuffed with halting really, stuffed, broodig bear,depresseive bear. bare yr chest friendi wanna stab it. torture is cool.i hate hitler what a prick i get nasuesusous just thinkign about it.hate sucks.so i shouldnt hate this- angelic purls from metronome,giving the skinny on rhythm.what means meaning without also meaning something elsewhen can you favor clarity enough to flly straight into the suni tore the pot open excitedly and cut myselfthe bag of pot was actually put in a shit i needed scissotrs to cutshit” is a good word to just, like, for nouns and thingsjust call it a shit. like ‘res’ or somesuch.trembling i breathe heavily, its too harsh, the air is too harsh,my throat burns with exhaustion. comeon muse gimme a little reflectiveness or w/ei like you. i like teenaged sights before my eyesat sweet sixteen tantrumshowsreality shows bite. barrel them down, gun em.wish someone would killall the bile. media bile. im just bein hipocrite doe.i add waste. i dont ever care.i am careless. just livebloggin on pivoting seagull here.the only winding road or action is an thoughtand idea of the mind, poof there ti’sspecturm turnt out ok the term of black terrain carry the packPim pim -kills p[oim. before pim alone.

i get to the bin and pull out more instructive destructions.i am just sitting in a chair literally like that is all i am doing.writing bullshit.fuck em right -best advice ever. good advice for lovemaking too.or maybe aroiginally it wasfor lovemaking. haphazard breathes as su n shine obtrusively brightit is invading my dark mancave,i did the dishes thoit is not so disgusting. i wanted to make theis a big poem,pomp sircumstance pitch and moment. syllabls of recorded time etc.tomorow and tomorwo and tomrow ckreeps / in its betty pace from day to day etc ^^^^ before there i saiddatand all are uysetrdays have lighted fools the way to dusky death. ah fie,lifes but a alking wshadow a poor playerthat strutsand frets his hour apun the stage / and then is heard no more.it si ia a teall told meby an idiot /fullof sound and fury sigificney ing nothing =sheakspere, whata freak. i saw him hone his wit ihe told me what that was aboutfrom the corner of the roundtable of all these writers, dead,fretting about style. borges wrote that shakespeare, master of words,despised them, i can only record these true delusions,they are delusions. / they happened,in my headdumblrdore from harry potter asked him when he got avad cadavra’d if that really mattered.it serctainly isnt good advice--for somewon with depression. it is in my head. exactly. all of it is.that sthe problem yo damn likehwut ?? ? ? ?? R?Q$G&%^JKHDIId76oU&H&%(PUVTJGbvVGVIUVVGIEevIYwvw4ivwuiuivbeppupb5ivy5pppppppppppppppcarekeslsess, carcass, im goin to die one daynone of this is publishablei dare youtry and purblish thids,it is the crappiest writing i have every done.i like makeing my fingertips move.i like the sun out there i want to get close to it,might jump really high and launch myself into its arms / i did an oil painting like thatcold it is not windy but not brusquediscuss the weather until the foolish topic leands to a portal into darkensessand the canvas disappears, goes shoo, andi amjust trying to make it thru the dark pathethis kid he is ah an asshe talks to much / thats what someone said.i dont talk tho is thing thisng is ia just write like yo quit gri[ping]

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME9hate this whyi cant wait to not have kidsjust gotta have thots insted,i shld say i hate a poem to initiate more writingi shld give my right eyeball a chance to breathei shld enliven myself, get free,get enlivened. i am honest. had a dreqm dreami just woke up from aboutstuffing hidden fish in my mouth,just this pile of fish in bags, given to meby a guy in a nice suit. tht was cloxdext coloxo deexteritythe destiny f clocks,i hadn’t thot of random weird things afterjust was focused on getting up which is in a way focusing on nothingin both cases.hate this whybring it up again, way to be awkward.damn son. too much choking. we like to watch u choke.some evil pleaasure. it is. eh fuck.fell inside your sounddeep there.

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME8man be a man mana troop. why do i wanna say big.i really want to be okay with sides.sidereal force tick tock tick tock i hate this so fari wonder if this poem will get any betteras i write it /i fell down.last time i give a lift to a criminalhe had sunken eyeshe had a thing for llooking at you when you werenta look that burned. as if lots of menwere behind it. this is slightly diff.go with it. go to hell--i can remark all i want on what i want to say.jsut want to try nd feel my way aroud things.what do i want to say?how can i see it being said and or will i say it diff ??

than that ? ah im a night owl. its morning.the sun is a giant clock. big one.cold one it is not. not a beer. ur not that man to fear you’ll be, [bearded apoplex]dont even wanna be sunken eyes.wanna be smart and crazy. but i feel this getting benign.uplifting shit. need some drama :the world suddenly extended beyondthe reaches of the entire universe ./and the universecontained within the worldbecame the world it once contained / simplybuy fvolue simply / by volume there wed the shittogether welb. i want the uplifting to not take itself too seriosulyandbe kinda weird. maybe i shd rite eyes closedlike i did a few times. dunno.i wonder if in the light of day any of these words will matter,i have an itch on my back i wonder if this chair has ticks,now i n my bottom. cld just be hairs moving around.bloodflow stoppage. gonna die.thought i heard a door close. or open.i think its just this creaking piano. im a mind’s eye–sort of guy. just wanna behappy, like evrybody else. i feel badabout al ot of things.im a jackassim a jackass^^^there i balanced out happy earnest feeligwith an even more earnest selfhate stuff,‘goodbye left the weedding’ -been in to grandaddy,thats a band thats a lyrci^^ from the band.gotta stop ending with a bang,the next bang is a whisperand a band of vacanciesan a nose that’s barely alive,my senses are barely aliveim going to live soon, sweet soother of death,opportunity, im a great person fuck it,gonna ceep that comma in there, keep [imean]i think about that seepage inddeep ocean, really toxic gas.scary.sins of the fathers of this world.‘ll ruin the world. the people here are brats.im in this place in gloucester.the drivers are really entitledthey, uh nealryl, ran over gf.tell me something good. this sux ahhhhhhh

it’s like i need to reel it in to reel YOU ini can’t just spout wordsim just used to stylistic shitjust used to words as objects not ways to convey feeling but thru the technique and rush of good sentencelike i did before i put my thumb up for weirdowsvery accepting good for the good ofgiving humanitysomething to,think bout, ah h

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME7the point is to capture every moment reallywhat is real is to inside my headeverythingelse is an abstraction, starched and parched and parsedjust a small tune up of the everythingfrom the world to your plate, a pf for the film,hard to digest tho you dig,whyit’s the best. said a yu inside you. path created.it opens to a field of corn. dogma is toofancy for this field. the field overlooks a blue skybecause everything istilted to the sky,bicycles have square wheels now.the world teetered off the usual brink harnesing etckenosis or askesis, whats the diff ?? i get them confusedlike something else i cant rememberoh yeah teleology and tautology i explain that latermeh. druggd up mouth, i drugded upthe mouthpiece.kshhh. talk to me baby.cmon.. i am here ready to siphon your good workinto shitty niceness.just for the sake of not making enemies.do you desire the lack of desire.all this shit my dad got me thingking aboutking of things. waterfall of consciousness, frogs leapingforget the stream. a lily pad is a vacuumthat leads to ironing boards. penguin penguin.chaos is a bad theosophy. like sophists, what the hell.i read some of protagoras pretty cool.it is when i get zoned into socrates’ rhetoric and dont process all of itthat he is speaking most clearly. thats fascinating. tbh.er. i guess thats the point but kinda a cocktease or mabye

thats the pointbecause only people would understand not fullyif they read the rhetoric--and got infatuated with itthe way the face of a beautiful woman on the bus blurs.see her, see his delightful strains, perfect, tuned well,i like blue guitars tho.lily pad is leapt on by very tiny penguins.desire to make sense isthe sadness of needing polarity,something again said to the aid of the nonsense.just saying it again is a tautology,bad dog dog.! dont shit. plato is writing,wallace stevens said something about the chariotridden by something to somewhere, it was aboutthe ideal, he quoted a passage. kindareminds me of shelley’s sublime fragment THE TRIUMPH OF LIFEwhich actually is an utterly hopeless piece of writing.he puts rousseau on a chariot whom drives on into luckless void.unable to partake of the naturedesiredblackgroanseat my happiness upgroans of feet on the gravel in the driveway at the suburban home at three in mornsome kid is you would think sneaking back after a partybut really he is stumbling backgot knifed on the way homesenseless. i said that to be provocative. i dont kno.it was a good idea at the time to stab perfection in the heart,which clothes from the mind, dont make it obv.obviousness sucx.give life a chance to spaek for you/ i am staring at the keys on my keyboard/i was writing that. now im writing this.i wanna join--/ the sublime / club// bro italian hats wre called macoraoni in the day.the whole ‘stuck a feather in hat’ thing makes sense now.macorni- italian hatssaw it on tumblri hate commercials and i disagree that they are necessary,but neither is an imperfectworld, uh, necessaary. thads all w’e got. penguins dominate my mind again,flourish like dead frogs. ha reminds me,of magnolia–great film a favorite. hoffman say WHY FROGS FALL FROM SKYjust an absurd deus ex machine--i should put that in quotes bec. used that line before

too lazytoo fat and lazyold man i amgot cast as all the old guys in plays in schoolshylockdaddy warbucksthe old doctor in that play about the guy whose best friend is a giant rabbit,no not donnie darko. donnie darko hates the rabbit really.the guy who played the filibustering smith fella in mr smith goes to washington.sometimes,i want to be in construction hehe srry im weird. random thot.so yeahthen things start to lag as things get more and more into entropylike a band you just discovered. really,the snakes are barracudas are vacuums are lily pads are sinkholesinto desiring nothing desire is the main component of selfbut if the doors of perceptionwere cleansederry thing would be as it appears infinite that is to sayhavent read much of huxleys’ doors of perception but i have read brave new worldimages of mason jars dance in my head. petri dish.thriving scum. images. trash. garbage. nuts sayings. little,small, and tiny routes thru da bleak--path back to being interesting again. probablyalredy lost ye. meta i1! i am remarking on editing lessnow and before was & uh yeah i wasreamkairking on oh how to be interesting. intersecting interestingwith noninteresting creates the bland, the table is a chaironc entropy blossoms like a large, fat flowerthe praxis of course is a word i am having trouble rememberingwhat does praxis mean. praxis obligation, praxis = obligation, or statementof value, what you must do ?? not goin to look it upbc it would be awesome if i was wrong,just so you’d know that i wont make anything up here.its all in my head ya so hwat, turnt, shit man, car smells of skunk, roll window downits reaining, quarters this time, of buds.take me away from want, ego, desire, wormlike,that is spineless. arrogant and feeble with a gut fatas flowers dipping the vase to flor too much beauty open the floor, flucking do itso we can trace a ring around the rosy etc. all fall down. and so on. luckymy badass boyfriend has a gf who’s a pistol w a knife,we ccan be saintsof destruction andthat is an overrought phrase bye

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME6

we need more dogma so that everyone can feel right about their blind assertionswe need a dog that doesn’t live inside his own head so much. friggin moody,really moody.my repentance is that idint hide meseff.dint hide meseff.rows of corner, images pennyeach, it rains nickels however.the nickels hover an acute distance from the ground,so small, so precise,it is hardly noticeable taht they are hoveringi like big spaces hey theres the caesuramorning morningbrake for tourists you do but not for hypocritesmarigold roundsfro the size of the universe, big and wiggling all around. this is whatswagger is. swashbuckling swagger-piratenetflix hero. youtube is embarrassing,evrybody hates everybody else. magic is in acknowledging the netgeneral statement on loose info--chum leviathan, king of bilge, master of abating mind.ruinous ruin. redundant that is redundant caesura emily dickinsonerotic distructiondickinson’s worm tied to the bedpostthat turns into a snakedickinson’s slant of light hefty like cathedral tuneslove itcannot get enough. letters are crisis lyrics in themselves.really takes a poetic intuition to understandthat defining the holder of the loaded gun robsthe victim of power, not the holder,who likes hunting the sovereign doemusecase. nutcaase? nutty muse. case full of firearmsaurora. the kid who shot up skulls. tragedies all and everywhere.sometimesi feel as if you need to lack knowledge of the metaphysicalto be able to dehumanize yourself so much.as for morals. well thats metaphysic aint it.it leads into grounded territory.you reach for the grand, find yourselfsomehow and maybe--bitterly with more knowledge of your own scruples.epistomological symptoms lend to syncope of right/wrong in the caseof both working at the same time. paradoxi. doxology,the study of psalms.i want to be a teacher i want to light up the trail before it goes on beyond me.i want to see whats beyond me & get excited

about itjust livig is my valiance.merely being, the way you is,is enuff for people. no need to enteratinaansaid that to mysefl –so much!!! i cant. just no.fuck i am sick and sorrowful,the cantos is brilliant. grand rhythm,what was it i just thought of? something from LW:he says in -culture and value-, [bewkk] thatto have a large scope means--yu do not keep all yr promises,big things badly or something. like if someone made a mapof airplanes, ,, well, you needthe anatomy. not just the fascimilenot just a picture. barton finkis cray movie.people would not fully get it.it is packing the least amount of action in a big space,imagery becomes the reliant in this case.pictures. thats the only proper way to wrangle a scenepowerful only stylistically. simple plotabout an playwriht with writers block who meets–unknwonainglya madman -‘john goodman’ actoractorhe pretends he’s a insurance salsman, crrepy kinda but good enough.any way playwirght writes inspired finally,eyes open, thinks its amazing.the producer who ironically was all for him taking his timefor an ‘artistic vision’ fucks im over in the end saying, THIS SUCKS basicallyand then the hotel reoom Barton Fink’s in--and everything’s on fire. madman goes inside room.all’s aflame. so bizarre. he sees thispicture of a woman at the beach leaning back.at end sees woman in real life.asks, “ur very beautiful. are you in pictures?” : “no of course not.”its the exact picture tho. that iseverything is emphasized by imagery. you dont knead a plotit starts with the end. if you dont have oneyou got’simagery. impression ahh uh makien a’ impression,to fill the space. camus lack of endings with kafka interesting,its minimalism applied to film but with a sense of magic

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEdit: STRANDED THOTS [FBOOK W PETER]at this u say

and then you write shit that sucksand shit thats okand every once in awhieltranscendentshitbeautiful shitand it’s trueit’s beautifuland simultaneously awfulcrudemessya mess of the mindmy landscapebecause everybodyis awfulbut existence is beautifuland we use that to will good thingsthanatos and eroscreationdestructionand the unity of boththe relation

looking up relevant videos for ‘young people’ and providing commentary and such, tho i think ill probably start with something less interestingpolitics, culture, whatnotalso man, i gotta stay clean unfortunately, or fortunately, whatever way you look at iti just get mad reticent when i smoke and stuff, tho I’m too old to really feel anxious about it anymorealso the fact I’m doing it for the gifffyand myself you know?but id be down to hang out still, definitely, id probably be more entertaining, especially today i feel quite clear and happy, etclast time we saw each other was interesting enough lol fairleigh’s pretty chill tho i wouldn’t have minded had it just been us and your friend, add a girl to the mix and it complicates things

she put my hand in hers and said all this shit like Everybody at school thought you were creepy but i said you were cool so people liked youand I just wanted to say to her that it really doesn’t matter anymore and that i really don’t careit was more the situation that was oddlike she needs to get past high school, i got past high school and I’m a fucker who dwells on his life a ton, but i mean….wowbesides, i like being creepy lol

anyway, I’m working on a manuscript in the meantime, between hoursif you want, i could send you an email. and its on google docs, so ill be adding and tweaking things, you’d be able to view the process.on your own time of course

she’s in the psych ward thereits no biggie; she was there beforebefore she went to the ‘haband its a better place thank god than where i wasshe might live with me at my crib when she gets out, get a jobwe’ll pool moniesand by a cheap place in long island cityor maybe brooklyn if we have doughget an actual lease, not just subletive been looking this stuff up loland dude itd be pretty sick to be a closer range to you my friendits like we’re sending smoke signalsinstead of like, actually meeting upbut idunno, all speculation

im trying to write a syllogismits like “if then” statementsused in lots of logic and ethicsits tough its like verbal math,but im liking it its funI want to try and reasonably prove a conscious universeone day mangotta researchlike i might have done all i can with poetry for now, kind of focusing on philosophy, critical analysis of interesting texts

reasons behind actions, my everyday life, thoughts that occur to me, experimentsbut my past, no nothat i keep to myselfexcept in this case lolit was a social experiment, easy because i really dont care much what people thinkand it was nice to reflector rather catharticid say, since we’re on the subject, that facebook still reflects my peripheral lifetheres certain horrors i cant share, either because i cant explain or it wouldnt be relateable

hold on lemme just find some smokesfor one, stealing meds from my friend’s dying father, that’s a little less abstract. this was in like 2009and hallucinating skulls

in balloonsthat were attached to his wheelchairwhen i was overit was like birthday balloonsalso seeing god, in the least christian most frightening sense, at the kid’s housei dont expect you to believe memore than half the writing ive done was done to explain that nighti showed matt oncethese newspapers i scrawled onthat nighteight pages filled with gibberishtruly it was inflitrating the core of the eddythat im still sane is somewhat of a miracle, especially since i lived in ct and did mad drugs and went off meds and went crazythe two years after 2008 were the most painful tholike basically no reliefliving in my roomi lost the actual newspapers which as an image are much starkerbut copied down what i wrote in them thereletters took on the definitions of words, words took on whole meanings, meanings took on the void

most of all the in-between, the stuff you might not understand, is horrific because its for myself and my mind to deal with, i cant explain the pain of feeling motherfucking cosmically insignificant, suffice it to say it’s never been a matter of perpetuating an image of deepness, or an obsession with the novelty of metaphysical concepts, but quite literally it is a serious case i approach with desperation and urgency

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME5i wish i cld aamaze graffiti artists with rembrandtthey whld jus cal me a annoyin bratthey have there wishers well they drop infinity pennies therethere is a dogged silence upon spoken reasonthere is a face to logic, mutilated, deformed, spreadpast the thighs, melting like an animal made beastly seriousin figuring out,in where found us the causa primateleology, telos means origin or sourcestudy of the source is study of teleologydifernt from tautologywhich is elliptical argument, proving thru repettition,which can happen. the point can be made.‘if the fool were to persist in his folly he would become wise”

WILLY BLAKE^^^i like people who are dead mostlybc i amaze them to mein my head delusions are people telling me things about my writingwhy i am just sitiing here while my brain is on firesynecdoche nw york with philip hoffman good movie, surreal as shiti been thinking a lot abt truncation, awkwardness,not for some invisible higher reason for itself,but just an expression of headstate of artist,the beauty in flaws as themselves, failings as failing, beautifulfor the honesty, do everything you can to be sincereeveryone from beyonds the grave keeps tellings mes.schikcsalsgefahrte means fellow sufferer in german,its a schopenhauer thing.his essays are provocative to say the least.and the will is mypoweranimalsoft yeilding is not my thing, na it is be truthfulcontradicting everything.shit im weak.shit shit hit me up anywayso i can make you feel uncomfortable for a few hours,when always you are most welcome,even tho my knees shake and i nearly dropwhen i see you peter.i dont know why that happened man,fear of messing up = ingrained. shit balls,viols and trumbolineoospretty music over and over againthe curtains sets ons thes worldsand nobody used anybody elseand al the pissants’wre aite, , aigte? damn.slam ur man already girls.dont bbe so lost all the time.guys’re too dumb to be losteh, chicken butt, i say, or the cock of poopy,imean poppycock.cook poop in a big brasket.bake that shitcause it to reveal items of stupendousimportance. do the feelings thing again i like that go again,grasp again, again

August 27, 2014Leave a comment

EditPOME4wranglers belt sounds out weltering them,i catch thems cathcers them catcher i mean duhgangs of people people everywhere it is amazingdumb performance, drama dumbeverything is a organized afraid of heights expression,let litter litter openly--in front of everybody. treat gouramnds to treats.they like it like i like tricks,stateboarding, aterbording, warterbording,hows it feel osaomabling is my best friend.cordialtiy is nuts if youre too cordial,.blank stares familiarize adegenerate intellectual with a cosplay spokeswoman,downtown. after the regret bluism dies.i cant i can i can justwrite. i can use this thing as a way to write or somethingi call it pivoting seagull i have a fine fly land on nosefollowing path, i girted to some sway of feelignspaghettified like into a black hole, my theory about stringsremains to be proven,that everything is woven like the borders of a comfy afghan,the blanket you dingus not the osamas and isisthe thing about libertarians is thatthe thinga bout democrats is thatthe thing about capitalism is thatthe world likes to deprecate with pointsinstead of solvinganything. dust gives me an image of dust for gratis.but i owe hope a pound of weed,i used to do a lot of heroin and pcphighest id ever been, lost a lot of myself.seriously i am a sentence ggrafte d together fretting about the force,i will expllain every thing.i will be really nerdy and get locked in lockers--by giant ornery capitalists. dumb shit.wheres it. thats a question why did you make it a statement/ becausi am saying not asking. where IS it. the in theism.its the in thang. i usedto drink a lot also i like the color violet.violet lite is the new brand of deity-diet,ditter differences to smothering mauls with wood,eat the well-chippin wood, forget name, i will just say glitter--but that is that, a comely goat laughs.

ts eliot had something called objective correlative,abstractions made familiar thru sense of the tempest of timestilled one moment but for the creaking of the barracksdolts in the cell mumbling to themseleves prisoners, dumb,‘i can smell ur cunt’ that’s higgs or whatever,from silence of the lambs. what a great performance.objective coorrelative: anyway: thisdoesn’t man enough of itself to be accomplishable.needs more than on its own.i am important and you are important.sun is shinign and i want dinner,sunday morning by velvet underground reminds meof a sunny winter morning [on sunday obvs] in the east village,crisp leaves fallingand she’s just a doll isnt sheoutdated termcom on get with timeinsert less commasi need more havoc to put in my display case,slitting throats cshould be my natureal ability,im good at it i know i am i justneed a dummy to try with test subject.i like to insert my dick into realms unknown unlockedby perifdy. evil spore on tip of penis,is it venereal. just venerable slumcum, that isall she chased the benign weaselshe corraborated the story but said, ‘ hewas fine, just a lil drunk’ to cops.i dont knowhat batman dan wld have doneif i learned hoevwr impossibly that,well, if i hadn’t put my hand on the door of his car &said he smelled like licker, [hewas harrassing an appereant gf? or something]well they were about to go off somewhere.confession : : i nearly sold heroin to someone who was trying to kill themselves.lateriwouldlearntheyjumpedofftheverrazanobri

dge

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME3the thing about writing is you can do it all the timeit is not a thing to covet, jee covetous desiroussuch’s bland as bran. can’t cant inject orderin a roo that babbles to itself all night bout renderingthe perfect dot stowing recalcitranceand beggin a frame of mind that lost its capital ideaw/ o shiversomespecies relegated to spangles and hums of glitter,just notions, forgiveness,this is one notion. another is artbreak. thats this.just it must be broken. running thru apoplectic, thistleand rinds too kind to poke, apple of eye,organism ogre, / dont want / terrible spare the spare duneof the windy desert,lie about windshields /form barracudas of slung shotsat the president of the prezz’s fanclubon the east coast, somewheres on new hampshire, ehh we meetekig ideas sitting at a plinth like art sudents evereywherecrushing up sudafed in tonguing it out like purpledranki dont kno what power is i just want this--to be surfaces but also not be miserable i wantwant to shine thru like a grievingi want grief to be bright and shiny likeyou know art speculats about a lot ffor the good of humanityunsure u dont sell uncertainty you set fire to itas it is itself a wrung fire from the lit match to the putrid gasragi was stuck in new york – the national, lyrics,some such fing. leave a red sothern sort in her mothers lot.felled at the smoking of people, artkicks the fecal-encrusted, badgers it with loveand nurtures the fecese. some thing getsall weird suddenly. thenanother thing does call me a douche. if ya see fit. have fitsabout drugs diggin the brain out of its glide,bitter smegma, object ludicrous, new york new yorkration incomeration incomelive bloggin is coolas long is it kicks the feces itskewli just follow my own narrative and am entertained

i dont care if i dont clothe the mind with the heart, eyai do it with t more mind.midn mind on mind, wrung gasrag, molotov coktailfurgeson, fergeson,ornery pricks having a go at drivving tanksgassing neighborhoods not oneretaliating weapon, hear the signs sing,point to breakfast, whichi do not hope is soon, its sancitfied dark, gets meall over myself with opulent life, big as in a palace,momentary coot. stay in bed like a king.drink expried sorta soda. diet pepsi. anglican church.rosters of trees waiting to get into tree heaven.all the papers go to hell,and moments bleed into moments as mind doesinto mindinto mind, bruh, bruh nono fuck nanneissexy nannies doing heroin speedballs cokeblow, yak, smokin birds, dirty cheat wins medal of honorof requisitioning all pieces from the sober fella,never allowing eyegain, again, poor sober fella, na, yuos pure but bored, consider the lordfind aftermaths jism all over the ankles, where your beltepart of pants is,send a clingy bitch to your abartment to talk toes with you,you hired her to suck yours.camus spoke of kafka’s lack of endingslike penal colongy, which ends bescia basicallywith the explorer suddenly rashly heated,keeping out the others with one of those giant ropes on ships,swingin it to and fro, like to say back you fiends!he had before been so seemingly now i guess openminded, theres a cat outsidethere is no catthere is no outside,one canonly go inside an outside place, u kno,the way you split an atom, maken peeace with an open eeee, damn yo, splick defifnitevierousing aguish, gooey dysplasia, dystopia bees upon /us, shit out of luckthis sux

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME2wrote stuff, let screams morph / ills ease down,fat race / inflated runt /just

mny nothins big / gums with novicain,only blow / it seemed like nocavainonly random / i like styles / it gets the ill down,farce creep dunce some corner of the eye dealbind thots let one singding ding moms don’t use that blowhorn i kno i knowi have only been to haight ashbery onceused to get steak sandwiches in californiai like being able to slowly blink my eyespressure pressured itself and made me anxiousand then the planet came into existenceexistentials say existence precedes essence which i believethe hairs on my legs feel weird cuz the fan’s on themkeeep runnin with the fan thing -inner dialogue. .mace to the face – when my friend kyle did line of 2ce,he thru up fr awhile.i was like he ok ?? shit man,dont do caterpillar lines of this shit it is potent.i wish i was skinny as the style of a ghandijust willing for justice of craft to whittle me to nothing.‘broke the new wood now time for carving’ paraphrase ezra pound on whitmanwhitman’s awesome, heres some stuff she wroteabout kids: a child sedd to me what is grass ??id say it is exactly just getting busy following yr minds pathwithout worrying about enything but the darkness of the pathyou have to make it out alive before day othrwise yu start over that is scarystart ofver from the beginning at duskclandestine is a word that comes to mind, surreptitious,subtle as DNA, ‘pull apart the double helix like a wishbone’ – thats–yoni wolf, not me. great line. i liketo lean against lamppostst waitng for bekcett seeinga guy ad hominum thots bug mewhile i look at his eyes & no him. i want an oddysey of something.advaenture. something that is my valiencebesides ‘merely being’ – wallace stevens that time that was.valiance good good. way to rescure my diseased tastbuttsi said once there is all things, not all peopel.well corner me ask me do it.i tangle u. i love wry lines. my hair is on fire.drumm the heart. something like,imply it all, point at the sky which is after all nothing.just a cage. we cant escape gravity. were stuck.write carnage carefully, assiduous man.thats my warning. dont realize the whole brain.o ok big brother. the path will go leading where it will.this is my constant epistle to god, my telepathic hermeneutics with nobodys. HAH!

fuck I just like justice. eat me. dreamt about writingto somebody. my old drugs counselor. my dimmens were dimes.my demons were diamonds of molly, or cocaine.fuck i love coacian.damn. cant have every miracle be real, tho. blessthose implicative aping slashes / debunk pharmhood / run a greatness/ or sell the social / na /. fakey mist / it bleeds everywere /it ruins yur carpet . it draws a blank k kk k kkk k fkldsj fkht h#L/i4o6y8;v6tujc/vzothis is real time, but im doing nothing soteh disordered mind is my only action. so.

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME2wrote stuff, let screams morph / ills ease down,fat race / inflated runt /justmny nothins big / gums with novicain,only blow / it seemed like nocavainonly random / i like styles / it gets the ill down,farce creep dunce some corner of the eye dealbind thots let one singding ding moms don’t use that blowhorn i kno i knowi have only been to haight ashbery onceused to get steak sandwiches in californiai like being able to slowly blink my eyespressure pressured itself and made me anxiousand then the planet came into existenceexistentials say existence precedes essence which i believethe hairs on my legs feel weird cuz the fan’s on themkeeep runnin with the fan thing -inner dialogue. .mace to the face – when my friend kyle did line of 2ce,he thru up fr awhile.i was like he ok ?? shit man,dont do caterpillar lines of this shit it is potent.i wish i was skinny as the style of a ghandijust willing for justice of craft to whittle me to nothing.‘broke the new wood now time for carving’ paraphrase ezra pound on whitmanwhitman’s awesome, heres some stuff she wroteabout kids: a child sedd to me what is grass ??id say it is exactly just getting busy following yr minds pathwithout worrying about enything but the darkness of the pathyou have to make it out alive before day othrwise yu start over that is scarystart ofver from the beginning at duskclandestine is a word that comes to mind, surreptitious,subtle as DNA, ‘pull apart the double helix like a wishbone’ – thats

–yoni wolf, not me. great line. i liketo lean against lamppostst waitng for bekcett seeinga guy ad hominum thots bug mewhile i look at his eyes & no him. i want an oddysey of something.advaenture. something that is my valiencebesides ‘merely being’ – wallace stevens that time that was.valiance good good. way to rescure my diseased tastbuttsi said once there is all things, not all peopel.well corner me ask me do it.i tangle u. i love wry lines. my hair is on fire.drumm the heart. something like,imply it all, point at the sky which is after all nothing.just a cage. we cant escape gravity. were stuck.write carnage carefully, assiduous man.thats my warning. dont realize the whole brain.o ok big brother. the path will go leading where it will.this is my constant epistle to god, my telepathic hermeneutics with nobodys. HAH!fuck I just like justice. eat me. dreamt about writingto somebody. my old drugs counselor. my dimmens were dimes.my demons were diamonds of molly, or cocaine.fuck i love coacian.damn. cant have every miracle be real, tho. blessthose implicative aping slashes / debunk pharmhood / run a greatness/ or sell the social / na /. fakey mist / it bleeds everywere /it ruins yur carpet . it draws a blank k kk k kkk k fkldsj fkht h#L/i4o6y8;v6tujc/vzothis is real time, but im doing nothing soteh disordered mind is my only action. so.

August 27, 2014Leave a commentEditPOME1not much of myself id reap up as.too together, yea i guard mysinister minister, begginlocked bouquet rondure stylistsick of not being able to say anythingwrote myself brokendepressed into laughing fits every laughablepiece, deprecatd cornball sluttinessravel ravel ravel buy cialis buy seals for the notepaperredundant, i get to ttraveling lost smoke backinto the real cigar. like this shitexist so like it all the same,i dont know hwat im thinkingany more

i just sit here all day and play pretendi cant seem to break out of my vesselecigs rnt smokin seccationthus bullshit / grab mike downfall precocious yourngsteri and another enemy id wish an enemarelly painful one tewdonka donk, i like my pairdont grow new one. so much id reap up,so much for that. jsuta blessing fr domeless model pupilsa useless conformist, sweaty w bankfearminister dries his trickling coat on theshitty coathangera wife digs nails into cherrywood armchair armpoor unrequited images i have made u liet meconnect you. i have too blues to.tew much sad. sad ass cruly cornered, left to diefor money, problemsand guts. dont kil me. kill the past. allthis is an imago, what you see is a frozen priestundoing his fold and having a drinkmatters little. ideas pelt against mind like hail.when’ll i bring sexy back.when thoughts dry up is it like taking mud from rain.little fusions, big explosiosnand nasty conceited me, so fucked, i cant onlybe inspired to talk shit till numb. myhands are nubs / hath no use i do not /big emogee for the existence of godsubject matter is hard to come by . come buycome buy. what if the nextgods were poets. keeping this blog,just in case it damns me ova.just a dam to dam the damn onslaught,wiggle thru to happiness i.fat checks denied. dont kno what tips arejust give fat ones, gives me sense of ownership. i crustover and die, in that order. some impossibledisease gets stranglehold. this is moment by moment here.‘controls were jammed’ damn GRANDADDY [band]that is how i feel. this poem has a disease orthis poet hasd one. i laugh bc i am laughable./less hate . . sucks it does tobe bitter. jut an idea, just one, into chestlike big knife.shit talk the shittakcl

morse code blunts the specialimply immediacy thru being immediate but habitually collectedless and lss of yr self in dry paginated, uh ghostsrevised and revised, prurpose here to be bpro at immediacy.lots of idea hath i i . . .uhi don’t knowbest not . .

[a laugh at the spider in my fan, whom later bit me after sensing his chance at my accord with him - i.e. let him be without whacking with newspaper. re humor at one’s own sureness of kinship. fallibility. certainty trumps sense, by which i can feel no enmity towards something like an insect. this in turn is incommunicable. so why do i believe we are in accord? spider will continue to regard me w enmity. even to th point: when i offer truce, will continue to prove my suspicions. this is all really a fancy way of saying i don’t trust spiders.]

anyway my recognizing inspiration,depletes the inspiration,or whatever. ihad somethingor other in mind tosay earlier,but uh it uh seemedto hamfisted.so i amsaving the shitty, uhpart for now?

DC

PS:

I am a little brain in a body / subjugated to the pain of will / I am comatose / associate rage with vanity / sort of coast : like thru life, / just, not truth again / I want something to get a kick out of regular / into the big arena / into the sojourn / certainly I try to free a self / from rut / waiting to mean what I mean / need smaller / need revealing / self does / stop / stop / grainy photography / filters for the soul to put on yr Instagram / legitimate bluffs for a reason / read on / lying is negating / nothing but truth / a hidden prize in ur breakfast cereal / I choked on meaning sort of / imagined a whole mind amass / what a lie / what a belief is ain’t for to take tolls / but make a splendor of a ruined body / horror of will / lack of something / cannot regain / photo photo / need removal, try and stop the lunch out of my throat / I slide it back and it burns / there is some pain for the lynch mob / there is an everyday horror seen in the flower on yr lapel / it is purple and murderous : preserve this guaranteed moment / I have nothing to offer / I am existence but that misunderstood / a lozenge, please / a blanket in this cold would do / freak accident / or am freak / some bitch called me freak : I freaked : I am proven a nil amongst those who need not feed reactions / stranded , this is all stranded / some file cabinet / I’m unimpressed / if flotsam is divinity / how to divvy up the rest of all great things / unless all it be flotsam / all dull quake of heart / all a giant wrong thing / all roads lead to it / all seas cater waves to the grand fabulous / the mar / the poetic asswipe or the other / in other words !! / buzzed off all this castoff / it’s my ugly guts / I cradle them innards in / my hands / like children / be delicate / I an flawed / I am a piece of work / I think my cock is bigger than everyone else’s / I feed the mean parts : you disgust / me / say other , say other / path broken / synapse disabled / back to numbing more : voracious for it / lay back in that delicious torpor / sleep me into a rocket / straight into the sun / yea / for America / for the blood to beat right / for other stuff / important stuff / you name it, man / you claim it : u rise next day and it is night / for the sun / uh makes / uh no difference / nor do your hateful garbages and vegetable thoughts left swept off with the chaff / to putrefy in some college campus apartment / something alive in the garbage eventually / later found out / it was old cheese / on the side of the basket / inching away to join his mutant friends. / I shld join him / I shld / follow a rise of the garbage / the fishes down the void into sewer / alligators / smelly fodder / join them / join the decay / run off and join the circus / be dead and see how u like it Dan / common misconception / my will dances without my help / it will hurt to end this text / I do not know / when I will expel sacred jism / for the wrought sounds here / brave the lack of end, friend / it is with u / and maybe uh / I will spray after / uninfinite poetry is an onanism / slaughter / slaughter / slaughter (?)

(?)

Minuscule, all the thingsPerspective lends. Funny,

Where they end up, outsideThe unfinished

Cosmos of our heads.Weird where

Doubt leads, if you wrangleThe fear of it enough to talk

To it, tell it to settle down;Speak to it like an adult.

Get serious. The utmost sterilityIs pedological

Outside the dome of Particulars

There is no general knowledge OF things

As we hope them to beAnd dismissing the ambit

We deny The seen:

: keep on.: it feels obscene to keep on.

: ugh.: what.

: you’re obscene. your mom’s obscene.: dude … don’t bring back childhood memories of walking in on my mom having sex.

: na uh.: yea that never happened. i guess you can’t really tell because—

: i just … wish you understood.: ok motherfucker. time to bring you out in the open.

: what are you trying to say?

: it’s not about what i am trying to say it is you who’s got to say clearly.

: truly the editor of works is the unseen godRighteous in all predicament casesO this cornered lunacy.

It bites and thrashes also: for it is alive with plague: and is but for the speech of our grandfathers to have completed. It is in a time-stuck canon.

It is only for them to have wrestled: and the men of generations hath solved for their day, and hath given evidence only of their day and self-being.

This cornered lunacy, barking remnants like from new lungs.

BLAKE! Strike the cilia from the breaths of these moody arbiters.

Wake up yon daemon aways; wake and make found again yon batch of problems, now left uselessly regaled amongst the rich and petty-

-For nothing but to meddle and muddle and pitter and putter. Around the point. Prickly Pear Prickly Pear.WAKE UP!!

I had a dream about solitude. There were many cardboard boxes in it too. Light barely had room to open its mouth. The death came in, led the ape thru slapdash inconsistencies disguised as the bare bones of all, all in this case personified as a soupy discharge from the Lingam’s primordial tip.

Now so. Moving on to the other’s ideas about the magus and the footing of bill to the snow-collector railing against the world as if madman and disposable camera were one:

On the side of the giant ear, aerated and clean, hairless, I saw a black mirror. And deposits of rheum blanketed the entire planet with each incision I made into the brutal harbinger CONTEXT.

As like some odd ash it all blessed me with dry smudges of burning white sage. All incisions all incisions all incisions I attempted, drew back into a numinous fog wherein I believe I saw something.

Then as suddenly the belief was awash at the bottom of a cliff and the thing transfigured. A mutt horse and rider I recall through the glass dimly: the rider: some guy whose name now I cannot recall nor pluck from any of that blear of time I spent awhile ago, at every chance I could

spilling blood out made entirely of grandpianos. The grandpianos shrieked back into the constrictions of time and space.

Small circles bred like mosquitoes for some reason I figured I’d find out eventually and soon for what-all with that nonsense some dominant gene burgeoned and it was wealthy with expectancy.

It itself I felt was the beginning of a great event the which only some perdition in reverse could have brought:

Enuff like THAT to be alongside the scruples, scruples, scruples of grand, emanating CONTEXT, kicking and screaming. Reverse reverse. Reverse esreveR. Uh

Rearing us restive folk by the nipple of a probably deplorable doubt whoever was doing that UH was like humanity existing for an entire lily pad, or anguish given an object to smash, or guardrails along the sides of a rink for the damned.

It wasn’t a usual limn nor did the vague sound of a descending absurd tranquil abused absurdity [!!!!!] as one usually feels the might of get tight around the collar once bellowed nor the shoe of a mastiff for that matter sound in clops like irrefragable pieces of a harping, wholly delirious messenger with too much disease to lose to ever have vented a spore out.

The denial of all, near religious and nonetheless concocting out of shame a singular medicine for those wheezes as could shrift the heaviest voice of a man, by dint of speculating about the term ‘spinal column’ made the gutsy verb appear, the act now consummate with knowledge of having a certain priority among at the least grander fools than I.

So I said. Well the SPACESHIP’s here is it not ?? What the teaching could not teach, what the words could not imbue is—well—more or less invaded is it not ??

The committee knew this and soon enough decreed with a smash of gavel and sudden hundreds splitting to the only door, to shoo off quick as possible from whatever horrifically beautiful effects as might soon enrage out what amounted every time this happened to the whole world speaking at once and with a facility as to this so beacon-bright and among as the stupendous usually was such a clutter of viceroys that the very of their decree degree in that there stupid decreeing of that final sun that is that espousing loop of a brightness and mingling darkness—well—it made one big PFAFF all candied and escutcheoned for o-zone purposes: and everything shone like proper shadows, as if rightness in their light was the place made for which all earth’s brig of prettyful apocalypse and infinite and also something involved that is as meaningless as surrender [whatever you want] might get around to. Spooning out their magnified knowledge; out to those too blind to retaliate. PFAFF.

I handed out some flyers for a thing I myself would not have expected of the least hovel-dweller, nor shrill spouse, nor maker of hexameter, nor modest daredevil, nor saint even.

Yeah splitting to the door. Them stepping all over the universe’s face—all, yes, all, yes, all—for a chance to grab and choke down something very much unlike any earthly melody-candy.

Them burned for the pill to swallow. Teach them big harshnesses, o. Longing.

OR like, fruitful endeavors: fruitful as celerity imagined poetically [the serious poet is after all an achievement] and and and the sound.

In the meanwhile of its whimsicality and air of darksome and remorse I contemplated the man again BLABLABLA. And the broken spine of the mutt horse.

And saw the gyre ad infinitum thru a most unidentifiable muttering plank of mutating, ever-changing breathing patterns.

Dusk came and it was as like the shock of an inorganic, orange douse and of flame and recital of sun itself, I handed the hammered punk that was myself to myself, made then and rightly uh uh,—I guess, cool and striding thru cloudy gerunds-for-verbs.

Like the thing about time “That only clocks can tell you.” [Ashbery] - - - - You, me, that is to say, having some coffee curdle the cream out of marvelous void and all damned darning of prescience together in even if only one quaint nauseating completely pretty and neat swell afghan comprised of latches of bizarre, freezing metal. Well and good well and good you might say.

The coffee enters a dimension that’s sort of different but not by much. It is basically the same and all remains well and good for the coffee there, right there, and plumb as fact and lord as logic right there humming in the sunny spot. At the window of desire. Great stretches of cardboard I now only know will be my truth.

Great, fallible wrath, a mind demented and spurious and also just fantastic! & awesome! Airing out in some blank pad out in the sticks reasoning awfully with a drop of rain.

But far too long to bust out of symparanekromenoi and into life again. Beautiful marble standing imageless against the darkness like a bedside lamp that talks to you while you sleep about all those ideas you will have tomorrow about the bedside lamp you so eschew day to via buzzards of any sort of relief, or sense, or drawn face jilted of sad left to make up happiness all of a sudden as would a prank delineate between cruel and by the kicking toadstool kill a death mere as chilling in a house as would life itself summon blithe correlating megrim and salty insults, as regards the presence of your matriarch huddling effusively and all deep—just within the screen, within the hideous schoolmarm’s width of expenditure, bundle of cash or no, college or community, all

comeuppance.

And she hunched in fire-flame seeing the babe born in joy by the lounge chair.

Just under the legs. Crawl Crawl Crawl. Someone said I had the audacity to make a statement that I had dreamt but all I hardened myself for were criticisms as regards my pet penguin. Especially his top hat made a tourist attraction worthy for the latest hidden follicle or biggest atom award the stooly gave to me for spilling the beans about Pooky down on 9th st.

And he sells bundles of wonderful for skinny souls for forty bean you spill for later but under different circumstances.

Yes. If I create it it is true. Big literalism daunts and haunts. Simplicity seems a vampirism. Yet I shall be death-paean to a club of jaded fathers drunk in spite of troubled daughters and insistent payments, bluet ideas, and all just fake noise congratulated to the ears of the indifference-enthusaist. If I create it it is true. Yet I know not. I know I know not. “One does not pass the same river twice.” No. No sir. Not even once.

[I am all beneath the auburn sky. What detaches from me so does from the planet itself and yet that is not at the clearest what I am. I am mere as everything. A cartilage spoken across the walls of cave nor in any other dwelling place do I not stumble thru in a language mine. In craft I craft; in solution solve; in my enemies detest peace and in peaceful men find it.

Later, you will consider me briefly, by the callus of rock and entropic eventuality and shaping: by the inlet of holy waters giving and retreating along prow, made slow and timeless and that by an unseen polisher. You will think I am the shanty far off for these tidings of small are to you most vocal yet I am that on top of ideas.

I am the idea, the idea and the shanty, o o o the shanty and the view from faraway, and all a true amalgam, o o o, an impossible, unspeakably beautiful hodgepodge, somehow harmonized; as if I might see my own view of the ragged planks and nails of a shanty that does not exist, from close up the same as far, not seeing it as much as doing so,—dual and yet unity and idea withal the scrapes of men, the slings, o torrid souls, o complex, torrid men, aloft in the feces, hiding trifles yet these made of their bigness, their ungiving,

their business: seethe in the calling of names, rapid motions of all incident and brainless carnage. Sensing most often a bit i’the bidding, unwilling as the saurian’s unmanned, a cry to say what shall I cry, I cry; and martyr that messy greatness at last, for the sake I as myself say the thing worthwhile, inlaid forever thru miles of a weeping self.]