Sit and Stare


Sit and stare, stand and stare
out the window, there is a balloon, in the air
stabbed in the back, in the back of the neck
Central cortex backside’s bet
Hear a pop
here nor there
There’s a pup
See it anywhere

Broken elevator drops
zero G is oh-so hot
Don’t care, earphones here
Don’t swear, mother’s near

These are the thoughts that entertain
And more and more to pass the blame
And less and less when time’s the same
Lest no on knows, or there’d be shame
But we’re glad you came







Time is running out
We’ll all live forever
Countdown to Doomsday
Utopia isn’t very clever
If we don’t die tomorrow
We’ll survive another day
If we don’t ever have to die
Then there shall be an eternity to play
If that doesn’t work
We’ll figure something out
Write a self-help book about it
And never have a doubt
That life’s a happy rainbow
With happy stupid people
Singing, dancing, dying
All by way of needle
Skipping Revelations
The future… is wide… open
I heard that in a song
At least, that’s what I’m hoping






It’s time for presents
Not time for violence
Plan on plenty
No time for silence
Bug your parents
Spend repentance
Buy me love
Spread connections
I want it now
There is no patience
I want it fresh
Not to wait for inheritance
Shiny trinkets
Cost imperative
Binding light-rays
I swear it is
Cuz I deserve it
Mommy knows this
So throw away the old
Make room for new shit
Pay your bills
With indebted interest
They say it’s worthless
But don’t believe it
It’s very important
That I collect each every bits
Junkie sit-ins
God is angry
If I don’t get presents



 July, 2008

Weirdo on the bus – old poems 2008 v


Weirdo on the bus
breathes heavy

I politely ignore

Your tar-black eyes

Weirdo on the bus
hums to himself
sings to us all
A warning
of danger

I’m sorry I don’t have any change

I lie

And I can’t wait
to step off the bus
and forget you exist




3 A.M.s to hold on to – old poems 2008 iv


3 A.M.s to hold on to

If I…
(Poems that start with “If I…”)
If could save these 3 A.M.s
I’d have more time
If I was asleep
Instead of on the Internet
till dawn
looking at porn
I wouldn’t be so busy with everything else

I like my 3 A.M.s
I hate my 3 A.M.s
But I love my 3 A.M.s
me and the goddess and my credit card number
and video

No, If I saved them up
I’d have more time
for Netflix
Or, uh, read books.




VOMITOUS – old poems 2008 iii



My empty stomach begs
I won’t suffer to pay
no scrap or change
or food I say
Just keep drindindrink all night and day

Smoke this herb and cough
Make sure your throat is rough
And don’t forget to drink that shot
It’s spicy liquored laugh
The kind you always loved and liked and lost

There is no need to eat
Amongst party favor treats

And at the end of night,
no complaints
When a vacuum implosion fight
Aimed and dead-of-rights
Up and up
It tastes so sweet

A lesson learned today?
Instead ask if you may
Drink and smoke and swallow and squeeze
It’s all good for you
It’s what you need

Lap it up
It tastes so sweet




Kill Awake – old poems 2008 ii



Why do they say “fall asleep”?
Why don’t they say “Kill awake”?
Sounds easier
Same number of syllables
What’s the difference?
Perhaps they’re afraid

I don’t remember my dreams
Not the ones from last night
Or last week
Or twenty-years back…
Not the dreams of a short kid
Staring at the sky
The moon’s face grinning
Declaring, loudly
“I want to be a –”
Well I don’t know
I don’t remember

Any other puns?
Any intro-duck-tions?
Any quacks? Quantums?
Any hot or olds?
Or snow-frosts on my cake
With sweat and sour taste?
I kill awake
And I fall apart
With the knife
Into that gravity-
We’ll all forget eventually




Drown – Old Poems 2008 I



I want to drown
Lungs to suck
I want to own
Someone to fuck
But I want a sale
don’t pay that much
For the price I’d pay
I wouldn’t get very much
But if I drowned
The ocean would rape my breath
What a sound!
Watery road to death
And all for free!
I’d pay for that
My kind of fee
They don’t charge too bad



never forever – old poems 2007 iii


never forever

The train rides by razors
It comes in every delicious flavors
There’s an empty sort, of tourism
On the planet Earth, o where is it?
Spitting lines by the dollar
They grow duller, by the hour
And I just can’t take to, the waves of the freeway
It ain’t my kind of way, not today

It will never ever, be forever
And it really wasn’t, so very clever
No time or place, nowhere
no when, no year, its not clear

And I thought I had it, all figured out
Until she opened, her big mouth
The dreams all slid through, the door crackles
I’ll never find out where I lack at
She told, she ___ed me
She sent me, a treaty
A peace that no man could aspire
A peace is made for using, to fire

So I’m riding alone, on the way to my home
where its colder, and for a quarter
I’ll wait there, staring, at the phone

It will never, be forever
and it wasn’t, so very clever