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| Kill me with the vaguery
Eat me with the pain
Tell me that the mist is here
The tears are only rain
Break me like I'm infallible
Choke me like they aptly must
Dancing, backwards, two by two
Memory morphs into dust
Dancing in the ballroom
Naked on the piano bench
Fire dies and fire lies
Into heaven scent and stench
Shiver down the vertebrae
I long to procure
If I didn't know
Might I choose to endure.
Water gazes back at me
I turn and don't seem to care
If you cared, the likes of me
Would never have been there.
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| You make the face! Eat my sheet!I'd draw a picture
But I don't think it'd really matter that much
I'd issue a lithograph
But I don't think it would be self-sufficient
Soft, comfortable, fit for me
Fall in love with breakfast again!
Oh shit, it's the Denny's grand slam?
!!!!11
I sit by my plate, sulking in state
To analyze the phonic
A chronic bubonic
The sultry
The sneering
Spited and irate
Sodden and spired
Like the glass plate
Anglo-phones dripping from the mouth
Piercing my wenus
Flesh-borne and papillion
Dripping with mire
And bonnie prince's pearl
It seeps along my septum!
But I am not supposed to write like this!
This is entirely fiction and horrendous!
I am totally tossing leftovers into a wtf gumbo!
The funky bastard retreats.
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| Have never been one to enjoy...
Being told what I know--
I've never known:
Told what being I know,
Especially when the cheek-gutter overflows into the ear.
Lying on my backside, dying,
I might've never told you
That I loved you so.
Cause you never let me did.
And, oh, I never believed you,
never did you let me leave you.
I already did.
You weren't looking.
Neither were any of they...
And I've--...
Been told to enjoy what I know.
Well, I never, whatever.
Cause there's a lot of things that can kill a man
There's a lot of ways to die
Some are already dead and walk beside me.
Agh. So annoying! So annoying.... when 90s songs come on tv/radio and totally make me lose my train of thought... That totally pisses me off. I'm probably going to go hurl a chair at some sex offenders or some shit, after I finish my evening tea. Well, okay, it totally turns me on (if I was drinking a bigass boat drink).
Some 80s songs do that.
Gangsta.
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Listen, I've decided:
Life is too precious to ponder
the petty details any longer
and to put it bluntly
I will not participate.
I will not be coming to the party,
I will not be returning the call.
I will not be anything to anyone.
I will stare at the gray sky till it is blue.
I will walk in the green fields and smell the wildflowers.
I will imbibe this life the way it was meant to be imbibed.
I will listen only to my body, and the black crows.
I will live by the true laws of the Land.
I will pick wild blackberries and pet cats.
I will write poems I share only with the wind.
I will raise a child, on the edge of nowhere.
I will nourish her on magic and honey.
I will teach her the languages of the fairies.
We will play in the forest at twilight.
We will hurl all hardship downhill to the sea.
Sometimes I just want to scream at the top of my lungs...
--It's never in the right place to do so,
I ball all this up and
Back into the dough ye go.
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| The status quo can eat shit...
You've got your big guns
I've got this illuminous sun
And I keep breathing
Hoping that's enough for anyone
You've got your silverware
I've got a head of hair
Neither one could ever spare
Another year of wear and tear
Walkin through the corn fields
Watching farmers praying for their yield
But the rain never come
Leaves you lying for dead neath the sun
I lie there on a reef
Watching fishes swimmin by
Never seem to want to care
When all you ever do is fly.
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