e v e n in g e v e n in g passing b y pa ss ing by gett ing your head screwed on tight, ba be with the stockings so white- don't play games tonight ........ breaking the moon in half so i can see it in

go go toad pidgeon scratched paper in red ink neon slipper agua black boozer bamboozled blessings for the in rest in a setting give it all back fools good for the furnish why don't you scam easy tiger

you're so concerned about what is 'fake' and/or authentic and you're spewing out some goofy diatribe, maybe consider whether you're just as pretentious as the rest? it doesn't take a lot to have 'depth'

steemit seems legit because as a poet i am still so damn poor

bitten on a finger in a crisp in a jar in the hallway down Africa sewage indian toilet with cactus gypsy nale in the ice cream with cherry dumplings god's your man man I stay above it - above it like vasectomy

when I was older I crammed it in gently . I sat back and yawned . I fled thru the forest in a blaze . I bellowed out in agony. I flipped over the bench. I spat the puke. I itched the back. I sprayed the

was at the supermarket buying blueberries and some frozen pizza and then I decided I needed some salt as well so I went to that aisle and happened to be where the bread was too so I got that and a few

these 2 days feel like a month and I'm just staring at a wall addorned with pictures of a frog that someone felt tasteful to put up here. some incense going- the guy with the one eye, out of a colander

don't give no fucks when the ceiling ; is falling on top of me. give no fucks when my lungs fill with tar. ''have a balogne sandwich.'' ''yes. mustard too'' I reply. but then why do I always get the crust?

i puff on a popcorn scented vape i tilt the fan like so i look out the blinds and see a guy strutting around like elvis i see an old lady with her 80s Walkman picking up her dog shit i see a mailbox that's

life is like a box of chocolates you eat all the chocolate and then you get diarrhea usually

the first sunset rose over the blackened land I could then breathe

laying down in grass; vomit wiped on a napkin I had no answers

the elephants in the dancing hall keep stomping on the mouse the burger -king fries keep beating the lady into submission until she stops rubbing the hand-clock the boy keeps kissing the elk as it moans

my money my watch my house my car my phone my wallet my toothbrush my couch my lemons my green grass my plastic tub my plastic hair my plastic teeth my blue pool my black eyes my red heart my green soul

microsoft computer and the apple modems a Viacom tv flicker and a Sony hologram player a samsung automobile and a blu-tooth Yamaha green flower beaten under the harsh wind

I covered the turd in gold dust and paraded it around the city people would stare in disbelief and ask to take pictures with the turd as they posed gold dust would inevitably stick to their cheeks but

I twisted the handle and peered inside and the saw the blobby mass her eyes were bloody with mucus streaming down her tits. I called her 'mama'. and she called me 'Bub'. I had the shovel and bashed her

the only living creature that could survive the blast was one singular roach living in the cupboard behind the ramen noodles. all the people were obliterated with their skull masks still tethered to their

when you are struggling to stay awake- play the violin on the 4th fret with a crooked spoon. no tears were made to be wasted