Two weeping eyes Drained down to the numb – The TV. Is stuck on reruns – Pen to paper my mind flashes The sky/what I need is A list of weapons to penetrate my prescribed bubble wrap coffin – Cut me/ Fight me/ bite me / Penetrate me/ I penetrate you……….. Anything to let me know I am not walking this earth as a ghost – Slap me/ Fuck me/ Scar me/ Stain me/ Put a barrel in my mouth and trigger me away from a life as undead –
Elegantly I bind you and precious you hang from my christmas tree/ Perhaps one of us chokes the other so hard we can see the veins pounding through our paper thin skins, our hearts rocket to mirror the mutual throb – - ENOUGH For gods sakes pull one of my teeth NOW/QUick before I put down this pen – coat hangers are on the stove, come over and we can kindly burn some clarity into each other and blow away the fog

U can’t really understand bukowski until yer a 40 year old man – had a horrible drinking problem and life has kicked you in the teeth at least a few times…..everybody read it when they were young thinking they were down – in fact it was an accessory – we weren’t down, we were punks – bukowski’s voice turned out to be an inheritance to help cope with the shit…..the road map of life in a right hook to the jaw
Kerouac is fluff – pages to wipe your ass with….I know shoot me- I’m obnoxious but the fact is he is one degree away from residing in the trust fund endless summer cut out bin
Beaudelaire is a fork tongued bastard with a mind so sharp One can only think of the ginsu knife cutting through a soda can in one motion – This motherfucker gets banned from a whole country by a 3 page intro to his book – Rockstar ? YES No one fucks with the reader more……… Unfortunately he is French scum and a queer Who loves to fuck with his face ( not that there Is anything wrong with that )
What else u got……….bring it on – ill dot your eye and bite off your ear

Will the look in her eyes save my soul Those Watery marbles roll with a glow – Endless feathers innocent do not blink – All those miles feet still to travel This path or that with truth as a vessel – The stories arc is in the brow Buttery skin No fatigue in these lids – The melody is sublime The ear of the heart fills at the fountain between her wings

Its raining sheets of anxiety

Pounding the roof

Puddling under the doors

Creeping ever lower

This tempest tosses ships against  the sides of my skull

My heart

a solitary bird being tossed through pitch black

Random lightning bolts only reveal the peril of my situation

Oh what

Mockery of the gods

The phalanx of medication on the verge of collapse

The dragon is close displaying immortal patience for the kill

Always the rhythm of this tortuous rain and its displays

I confine myself to my cabin for fear my disease will spread…….

terror’s

morbidly vibrant hand is unwilling to trace the monster churning my sea

Every stroke of the typewriter is a blind spin of the compass searching for home…………..

Broken arm robot dance Oh my god Strep test ? Hate those things ( Gurgle sounds as stick in throat ) 62 lbs Large medicine bow Screaming baby down the hall Hey…stop breathing the breath of fever all over me Swinging feet butt on crinkled paper Baby still screaming poor little guts out / talks of throwing up That’s what I was gonna say – sheesh dude