http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/Mixdown.mp3


good mixes, so hot

tthelinks to the other versions are dead links

and some crazy shit about being the music

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/Voice013.mp3
and then wake up compose a couple of beats and throw down a tired steetish freestyle that is all over the place..... what ever fuck you love it anyway

okay so the new plan is to go out until the wee hours dancing like a wee fiend, then let some okay looking chicks pick you up and then be so uncomfortable and you that you forget that the whole plan was to wait until the roomies were gone and stuff cuz shared room blah blah blahb andn then leave when the sarcastic faced one that you were supposed to sleep with takes a quick 20 min nappy poo on the couch before any makng out shit cuz once again i am crazy, then go in the wrong direction (up papineau instead of east on sherbrooke) and then on the way out see you roomate who is supposed to sleep with the other one coming out, and you are like what? and then he says, as soon as they realized you had gone, they hollered out the balcony and shit and then they were all like wtf????? and sorta kicked my roomate out, and then be more frustrated on top of it that steve didn't at least get laid that you bust sick freestyles until noon, and forget to hit record on the dictaphone cuz you is a dumb as prick drunk fucko

but if you listen to it you must understand that i am GD, nota god, but GOD

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/Voice006.mp3

actually the first of the two freestyles i did tonight, maybe better but feinetely not a complete song, i think i was more pissed off at all the people at work who are trying to figure out wqether i'm an idiot or what i want tio kill them, i am their god... the first thing i said as i came through the door you understand, i AM GOD

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/Voice009.mp3

new freestyle

very good sound quality...

so far i know that a rawkin "indy" band from peg city adores them along with n'sync, how is that "joke" pick not just as stupid as being n'sync, stop ating my time everyone.

so far i know that a rawkin "indy" band from peg city adores them along with n'sync, how is that "joke" pick not just as stupid as being n'sync, stop ating my time everyone.

so far i know a rockin "indy" band from peg city and every monkey and his genetic cousin loves em, what the fuck, how is picking n'sync as a "joke" cd pick any better than being n'sync, fuck would everyone stop wasting my time.

i better dl some kings of leon now to find out what the crap they sound like so i can come up with some reason to have said that "horribly vulgar" thing about "lucky".

new beat

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/dumbi.mp3

my breakfast

that and a half bottle of Royal Crown

thanks roomie left overs!

if i saw britney i'd be all like shut the fuck up and then she'd be all like what???? and then i'd be al like eat csrpet bitch and then i'd fuck her in the ass until she puked blood and swore she lovede the kings of leon.

so sick right now....

entropy is starting to turn me on

hahahahahaahahhahahahaha i AM right

entropy is final.... hahahaha

and this is surely

a

VERY

temporary situation.

i choose to see myself as a pessimistic agnostic thank you very much

You scored as atheism. You are... an atheist, though you probably already knew this. Also, you probably have several people praying daily for your soul.
Instead of simply being "nonreligious," atheists strongly believe in the lack of existence of a higher being, or God.

atheism		96%
Satanism		92%
agnosticism		83%
Paganism		50%
Judaism		33%
Islam		33%
Buddhism		33%
Christianity		25%
Hinduism		17%

Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

Well, Thats a Little Better Now

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/Voice004.mp3

they are certainly pissing me off

Crap Beats

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/wee.mp3

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/bgghh.mp3


that will make you very angry

"THE MegaMix"

http://home.ripway.com/2005-3/279410/Voice003.mp3


one stop shopping for those of you who want to see an hour of boredom come together.

Remix

http://mercury.walagata.com/w/cieve/Voice002.mp3

"remixed" using winamp progress bar & recorded a second and final time through a digital dictaphone

recording is harder than spiting in front of people.

oh well, somethign else boring to o on these long lonely night, i think i might have to figure out how to get a mic hooked up to this shit cuz the dictaphone recording method is not going to work except for joke songs.

ha ha ha ha

http://mercury.walagata.com/w/cieve/kikk_3.mp3

http://mercury.walagata.com/w/cieve/Voice001.mp3


freestyle your life

although perhaps that will distract me from how grimy my puckered up little assoul feels....

however, HOWEVER i sincerly doubt this

an this is in my out of bodyish state

i am not looking forward

to dealing with two ailing

kidneys and the bloody inflammed

pulpy mass i call my liver.

i guess what ima doing

all thogh this lookjs rather

grainy for a feature presentation

more like high eight covered in

loosely adhering cellophane film.

my esophogus feels like

week old steak

and my mouth tastes like a

3rd generation roach joint.

what's a future boy to do???

i guess i'm gonna wind up rapping by midnight again.


i always feel like such an idiot for the first white ass hour,

but most of the time, i know

it's the actual stuff,

but fuck everyone,

i like feelking like

i have some control of this situation

and my rhymes are so prophetic, causality

is always getting confused.

i get so lifted when i skate

the infosupahigh

that you might've confused me for osmeone who cares

an everybody is still as stupid as they were last night and me without my projectile vomiting superpowers

i had three cups of cofee thius morning and i am all light headed and nauseous

my mouth is all dry and hot and my tummy feels like rust.....

yay! italian sausages and alcohol.

i mean really, someone feed me some lines,


i SUCK.

im pathetic and
suicidal,

i'm about to wat an italian sausage, theres your sexploits,

i don't think i can do this....


shut up, tomorrow is a brand new day
new opportunities what can i what can i say?

don't fuck with puck
lest you get stuck
buck naked it will suck
tucking your cock to
your shit caked taint
don't look at me, i'm no

saint

cuz where was you when i was blue?

where will you be when i am through?

warm and safe you drink and screw

but on the brink of boredom,

true.

roomate's in the shower
annoyance is my power
roomates in the shower
i'm in the ivory tower
roomate's in the shower
and i just stole his towel
weeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

or maybe there will be, i'm feeling really sore and grumpy, seems about right for a long night.

thats about it...

oh yeah
and

why doesn't someone sit

on my face
and

SHUT ME UP.

i need some fucking drones now

and for one of them to be a hot chick...

its inevitably the only way to get me to concentrate.....

in other news,

i AM going out tonight,

but i think i'll be taking it easy on the drugs
so don't expect any sexploits.

i need you to sit on my face

and shut me up.

Set Sail for the Seven Subtleties

tried all 7 faces
thought i knew which one to wear

i don't need to
baby i've been crazy
but if she'd do
them then when im too lazy
we'll pull out
and throw sucker punches
to the wind
and stick our tongues out

to catch the ash from the
burning cities
and the undetow
will be the cultural current
that will drive our vibe
as we skate the abandoned
stadiums and highways

find me i know
i know now

it is the only way it could ever
be

i am always in your face
why don't you shut me up

and sit on mine,

please?

i want you to sit on my face

and shut me up.

drunkdrunk

and high

like always

what am i gonna do? just keep posting?
i doubt it.... i'm in a real kill myself mood right now

what is this good for me bad for me bullshit... someone can't be of any use to me unless they are fucking dangerous....... i wish that i had known a little something before knowing all this pain, i would have been so much less scared

wtf am i talking about???

nothing

i'm never going to be comfortable like that again

because i never was

before

i had pretended

and after i faked it

i don't reall have any
aspirations anymore.

i feel exactly 7 percent better.... thats it tomorrow i am going out and getting laid, i don't know how, i am going to have to start earliy and shit, but i am going to get laid....

that might make it easier to pick up this pouty devil.

and i will suck your insides out

and i will be whole

forever

in an instant

both expanded and collapsed

and i will know of whom
and when if not where to draw
from the well at the end of time.

maybe its the constant smell of mud in my nostrils,
actually lets say its that cuz everything else is too creepy

but i really want someone to rub my neck (and my cock)
and rip the filthy ingrown hairs out and
pick at and pop those little zits

and



SIT ON MY FACE AND SHUT ME UP

aaaaarrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhh



someone help me


how do i not feel like a giganormus creep????


someone tell me....

i want to love someone so badly

i don't want a hooker with a heart of gold

i'm strip mining for cold hard titanium.

did i hear you drumming or was i fantasizing???

i was kinda getting on track

and now hard to breath

what the fuck?????

i hate this shit.

read me now that i know!

and know of (it) yourselves!

and. i don't see how you could hurt things....

and now i'm a massive drunk




i'm lonely


if you didn't catch what the fuck was going on







then go away

in these days when the rains came could someone tell that girl she's fucking beautiful and i am sick of all these nghts training my self not to care.


i know you've supported me for a long time
but some how i'm not impressed.

holy fuck eh??? i am soooo a genius when i am not looking.

if not don't worry i thought it was all about riffs but c'mon baby its about booty, who would've guessed? not me.

video games killed the rock star.

how? you ask

well

they stole my dones so......

their
was a
noone
bringing me

honey get it????

Penis Enlargement Softwear

(Spam Me,
Junkie Male)

Sometimes these days
I feel like a
life sized,
stained glass
window collage
of diet pill
and vanilla coke ads.

I spend all my interfacing time
in the places
where a child’s
unsteady hands
slopped the paste too thick;
creating brief patches
of almost opaque fog.

Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. Have you nothing better to read? I haven’t. Well then read it again. I will. I will. I will. I WILL.


From the moment I awoke I saw that the dream would not fade. I had confused it with memory and the truths contained within began seeping into my waking world. I could see now the lines tying these grand golden globes together; the great natural forces like gravity and love. They have the ability to warp space and even time, changing the very essence of existence. Now I knew what would be done. Now I knew what was in the beginning and forever into the future, not of my own life but of the great stretching expanse of space, aging with entropy nipping at its heels, irreversible cellular decay.

And the cold etched, hard-edged hipness of this city starts to intrude upon my vision, but its attacks are parried despite my fumbling fear because it’s not me that fights, it is not I who writes, it is the vast melting pot of our culture burping up its essence that I smell, and describe, my hands guided by the drug.

And the cold etched, hard-edged hipness of this city starts to intrude upon my vision, but its attacks are parried despite my fumbling fear because it’s not me that fights, it is not I who writes, it is the vast melting pot of our culture burping up its essence that I smell, and describe, my hands guided by the drug.

Curiously the detail most absent from modern accounts of the tale of Icarus is that at the time many others were cavorting quite carefree on wings of wax in the lower stratosphere. All of this stopped cuz one kid pokes his eye out. Fuck.

Contract Compassionados

plainly pain has arbitrated
and if you ask me,
that's maybe the
worst
idea you've ever had.

me,
i'm gonna get drunk
and whatever
i
can
ge
tmy
hands
on.

i know, i know, its cuz im an ex crack head mesced up stoner so my memory keeps drifting away from me thats what for the dicTAphone otherwise im a gonna need some pro;

c)sady,
b)zac,
a)gression

so i can retrace something until anyone else can see it

woohooo you know the best feeling in the world? yah its that braces on the in side of your teeth cross-hatched kind-o-deal. when you feel like your face is caving in and sucking in the uni verse around it swirly style blue streaked culture up our ass first.

i wish i could shake this feeling instead

my grecian ankle will be back way too soon

i'm pretty scared to see her, since i want to be nice

and get on that kick again

but you know how shaky

i am around people with power

over me, i hope i don't lose it.

Memories,
-----------------------------

and the confusion (but not really) like when she’d thrown out my hat and I had passed out in the bedroom after throwing one of my regular tantrums which basically consisted of lying on the floor sobbing for an hour or so followed by an hour or so of vigorous breaking of things, inflicting minor damage to large or expensive stuff (scarring a dresser, wounding an electrical cable) and completely destroying small or defenseless objects (the paper towel dispenser lost in a violent arc of downwards force illustrating a point, my old roommates leftovers, all his shit, all of it, a particularly interesting case being his night stand table as I had tap danced and jigged atop it in a fit of maniacal rage, my girlfriend in the corner terrified) followed by an hour or so of complete pure Nirvana exhausted on the floor then maybe sleep. And the completeness of it all, I had believed, and therefor it was, and the secondary plot lines required to explain her behaviour and the bizarre breakdowns and for so long before the end, the sexual disinterest, and the whys and the hows of where it all went endlessly ebbing back towards the soupy primordial, and me regaining something lost way back before I was born. The leaning and the incontrovertible glassiness of her motives and my needs and needs and needs and the twilight left lingering. And I’d learnt what of a heavy heart. Now, now, now, nothing left with which to struggle I have made art and it has lived. You have nothing to say that can still break me, in a haiku I was folded and folded again and again. Folded in steel, as in life mended.That afternoon in the hallway with her goofy downwards facing sheepish melancholy she simply kissed me, when we were sober, and me knowing the coming need for comfort in those days and my resolve turned to dust, and the organization lost. And the great crashing cacophonic electronic symphonies only the sublime result of this most visceral fit of mechanized control.

----------------------------------

Les Intinérants

The only way to write
is to hurt
and know it means nothing.

So

cramped,
perched on
cold hardwood floors
I’m forced to uncover my ears
to hear the echoes of
giggling toes
when we’d dance,
or
your muffled mouth
in my neck
whispering even then,
or
heels roaring
or
doors
barking warnings,
all the sounds our love
had made.

Eventually everything dissipates
as it’s absorbed into the emptiness
which surrounds us.

Yet these echoes remain
long after waves become
heat.
Reverberating,
ricocheting off the furniture of our minds,
randomly recurring
skewed snippets of conversation in
a horrible game
of broken telephone:
a coral plot line
growing in several directions
at once,
full of holes.

No,

this will be but
a graveyard of memory,
to which I’ll return only to read
the brilliant conclusions

drawn on the tombstones.

Maxims
and mindstates,
history rots.
-----------------------------------
Life lived, history recorded so that when I rot my account will skew opinions forever.

#5

Brats,
twats,
dickheads
and creeps.

Tools
and
trumpet touters
(self tooting)
will be followed by
Smugo the tragi.com
clown

prattle off and die old man
get the death rattle cough and die
so can you just leave me alone
until you decide to go on your own

roll,
roll over,
turn tricks
in your grave for all i care
throw the man a phone he could make it
with the way he mimics grace's moan
(thats a fakin' it)
halt at the
bordercrossing
platitudes and race's
roadbend just around the
giant willow tree in a cold
rising mist inexplicaply
torn from the landscape of
an inverted cousin
inbred beyond all event horizon
possiblities

the internet is on our other computer now, so i just might post more often or maybe not, either way its nice to be using a mouse that works and a computer that doesn't freeze all the fucking time.

i guess

ffffffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck i wish i had a digital camera so i could take a picture of this shit and put it up, it is so stupid looking, so fucking loose in there, dick all crooked when it hangs... etc

oh and the tip of my cock is pretty much bright purple, it always has been
oh and i'm 5'11 only 130lbs


good thing i'm me.

before you realize how stupid you are and look (at)
crimson fingernails wrapped around one pathetic nut
dangling

way to much slack
skin hanging
between
my thighs

i just read that last paragraph; my testiculated side is gonna have to kick the crap out of my nutless half.

it sucks having one side of your face be way more bearded than the other,

and having to explain that i only got one fucking ball.

--ah yah, there's only one ahem,..

testicle, yah, i've sorta noticed

---when..

did i notice it? oh about 10 oclock this morning i was washing my dick in the sink at work

--you wash you dick at work?

only when i have sex with the janitor, he's always taint deep in crust.

--you're disgusting, and how could you have lost a testicle over night, what the fu..

fucked if i know baby i woke up this morning i was feeling funny, i don't know if it was there or not, but my stomache ached, then bam 10am checking my genitals ... what the fuck where is my fucking nut?

--oh my god you're seerious, you have to go to the hospital, your nut must be inside your

ah shit baby can't we just fuck?

i wish i had some ugly juice,

or better yet

i wish it were normal to wear bellaclavas all the time

then maybe everyone'd leave me alone

or maybe i would just become more convinced

that SOMEONE is out to get me


in other news i got a counter oh god thats right, like you care anyways.

i want someone to hold me and kiss me and tell me i'm their favorite, and make me surpirse food and remmber my birthday when i forget and all that crap, fuck i hate being aloneseys, i wish i didn't hate everyone so much, it would be easier to find some sort of girlfriend.

i am the greatest natural resource you have access to. abuse me, whatever, just never forget it.

i'm promised to eternity
i don't have a life
so i must be history.

Prologue to a Poem

The truth is the fiction,
the rest here all lies.
Life as perception;
memory’s deception.

Art is the steam now
obscuring your eyes,
art is the sweat now which
streams down our thighs,

i don't much feel like doing this right now, i am playing with the music in my head for now, i also feel like going to sleep for a long time and waking up in the arms of someone.

i am so tired,

only just woken up

and nothing to look forward to.

everyday is my bitterest disappointment.

if you don't want comments don't leave a fucking commentbox, if you don't want a response, shut up, i just spit them out. if you think it's a put down, you're retarded and you did yourself in. i don't seek attention just information and the quickest way to see someone fuck up everything in a way only they could is to simply sit back and watch for two minutes spit back whatever bullshit they did and see if they're as crazy as they seem,
takin the piss is fun, the only regret i have is when twitchy webmaster erase my comments before my roomate gets to read them cuz he likes to laugh too ya know

one these days,
maybe even shortly i'm gona write something trhat is going to break my heart, then you'll all be sorry, cuz you'll have to understand everything i've evr written

before

i write it down
only so that it will

be;

mis, read

whatever

we need some control of this here situation

someone is gonna have to start showing people how stupid everythiong is and how

maybe nothing has to be

one these days,
maybe even shortly i'm gona write something trhat is going to break my heart, then you'll all be sorry, cuz you'll have to understand everything i've evr written before

i write it down only so that it will be;

mis, read

whatever

we need some control of this here situation

someone is gonna have to start showing people
how stupid everythiong is and howmaybe
nothing has to be

when i was younger, and erections were more difficult to get rid of than maintain, i used to have a mantra, i don't know why, but it was "i HATE stupid people" over and over, i also sometimes was prone to repeating this under extreme duress, either shitting or trying not to puke.

I Don't Wanna Go, All my Friends Have Been There

(A Musical Ultrar-Luude)


"so stephanie says she'll never leave, butt hen she does
so stephanie swore she wasn't like the rest, but then she was
and i'll see it that way just because
i can


so stepahnie swore but i wanted more
and stephanie said she'd never go,
but that was before the blow,
so stehpanie'd swear, and she'd leave
and i still would not believe,
and stephanie said
till the pig was bled

so stephanie says she'll never leave but then she does
so stephanie swore she wasn't like the rest, but then she was
and i'll see it that way just because
i can

so she cried, i died and we both tried to forget.
that i once knew anything like love,

so stephanie says she'll never leave but then she does
so stephanie swore she wasn't like thew rest, but then she was
and i'll see it that way just because
i can

and then stephanie said
and stephanie swore
as i climed into bed
and stephanie said
i'll never leave, but she did
and she swore
that she wouldn't test
but i failed,
i wouldn't rest

this is not
a final bid
but

(why?)
stephanie say goodbye
(why?)

\so stephanie says she'll never kleave butthen she does
so stephanie swore she wasn't like thew rest, but then she was
and i'll see it that way just because
i can
'
t live without you,

would you

please say goodbye

and stephanie says:

i am the inconsequential first hand account ed. for cards, sharks needeed to skim pool urgently.

And nothing should make you this way. Now you can feel the great stone rolling back from the tomb with the lightest touch of sweet white magic and the world is open and the shadows on the wall mere reflections of this realization. Allegory and myth, truth and faith, right where you left them.and now the new familiar feeling of money in your back pocket and not everything is okay, because there are always doubts, and you can always feel the towering weight of your wrongs but never the rights. But I needed the time to write, and write I did, all of these things here, flashes on a moonless night and even most of this, now, in the time those chronic cases' souls sold me. Now/ writing ahead of living,/ only so I can/ go back to write from the past,/ in strange circuitous paths,/ I’m led by inspiration.

So who do I call to tell them I’m a genius?, it doesn’t matter, but SOMEBODY’S got to read this, still I continue to scare myself shitless. My brilliance has not been exceeded by anything in my character, yet, None of it is nothing, I know now what I’m not. I’m tired sometimes lazy and happy to be loved and not respected, the movies have stopped running lines now through my head and bizarrely I’ve found I no longer feel guilty about being alive, or feeling so big when my shadow is directly beneath me, or about not really caring who else the women I will or have or do love love or have loved or will love because I finally realized that I’ve always loved each of them too, and I want to hold hands with all my love’s lovers throughout the night. Jealousy’s still lurking in deep creases not yet unfolded but the arms of time swing cyclically and all us little snarls will be wound calmly out, waiting our turns, and one day I’ll fully believe in myself, and all the old twitching will be gone and I can feel all this rising and my chest not my head swelling.

Love, love is free and it exists, magic and love, art and science, everything is alive, the drug is not artificial, the slowly sitting emperor penguin is no less distinguished because he remains in the grip of hormonal control, scream it, scream it now, creation is not for therapy or those who would require it, art isn’t a still-life photograph by some plump lonely shrew, art is alive, poetry is tangible. (look here how he is squeezing my chest sometimes too tight, in a bear hug, lifting me off the ground sometimes, laughing into the night and how could you say he is dead when he is here now holding my hand so tenderly?!!). All these dreams on a listless January night are as real as the gear in my head and the light in my hand and the cold on my feet and the sand on that beach. and the clock on the wall and the whir of the fan and the clack of the keys are a symphony of loneliness in a Siberian wood as children running from the wolves. I want to sleep now and awake again in the time when the worlds forces would once again gather and magic will spread from the fingertips of the poet to the painter, prophet and dancer, to face the darkness, because it is beautiful and cold, and huddled together we will be warm and see our true selves as we had always hoped they would be. SOMETIMES.

And when the grand magic wanes and we fall into the pit what visions of hell we will emerge with, victorious spoils from our long and arduous journey home to our wives: the world.

All Hallows Eve

Lines of coke,
bloody brides,
candy cane I suppose.

In an alleged
mescaline dream
I stumbled into you
at San Fermin,
everyone in red
and white,
a festival
so out of place
here in this cold city listening to
misty mountain hop
amid the browning patches .

Desiccated
wildflowers,

not a single one of whom
would
take their lives in their hands
to steady a grasp
on something so fleeting

as art.

You’re pursing your lips
again

and I can feel that my hand is
wrapping visions
round the night
trailing
your blood,
a beautiful
deepened crimson against the frozen sky,
crystallizing in a wave.
I reach out to touch it
and you shudder,
the crest breaking
against your turning back,
long red hair
smelling
of crisp burnt almonds.

and the pain and the pain and the pain and the pain the sweet pain heart wrenching pain beautiful elegant pain introspective, lashing out, stoically facing pain pain pain pain pain pain alive alive alive alive you are here, silently the ship slips back into the cool waters carrying its hordes and hoard and thoughts and plans and defenses anew all brewing after every raid taking a wife and then being cast out into the cold Nordic homeland mist on the water in each early morning night on September 6th 984.

November in St. Henri

Cold bleeds through in spots
at first, like a leaky fountain
pen paused in thought;
resting on the page.

Soon it will seep through my entire jacket,
one cold conducting
surface in close contact
on the way home this Thursday.
Some nights I can put up with it all
long enough to take the metro back west,
having skipped an hour or so
of staring straight down the barrel
of a giant magnum pistol.

If you fall,
spiraling inwards,
it will be towards a end
that you won’t see coming.

I’m distracted
for a short while
by the way she smells
until the glow softly fades out,
and we’re just two more people
awkwardly regaining our breath,
embarrassed to be lying
so close
together in the dark.

Love and the plethora
of great natural forces,
all lost without logic.
In this city on the mountain
our sunrise
bears the same colours
as dusk eternally falling
all over twilight,
our entire lives lived
without spring or summer.

Indecipherable,
Somehow Sensitive,
Pickup Jargon.

Getting laid is remarkably
like writing poems.

As of late
I’m not doing
too well with either
and
I’m scared I’ll never write
anything
again.

I’m trapped in an elevator
at 10 000 feet and counting
down,
looking through
this stupid glass floor
with
everyone’s heads
half-way to the ceiling,
still staring blankly forward.

With stress like this
it’s no wonder I keep flubbing
all my best lines
and that

the awkward pauses
are as of yet unresolved
with the imagery I’m trying to create here.

So I guess
what I’m trying to get at
is
would you still fuck me?

You Promised...

My back hurts
and i’m tired
in a boring kind of way.
i feel as if
i’ve walked one hundred
thoughts across a windy desert for
a chance at nuggets and my
favorite
golden sauce
but when i got there the take out window was closed
and
i’ve
never had much of
an ability for
animosity,
nor husbandry.

i guess i will
just
look at some
nice ladies
spreading as if they like
it,
soil my stomach
and
sleep,
sleep,
wake,
breathe, sleep,
deep, sleep
deeply

until i ache

from rest.

i turned on the TV
but i was fucked,
thought i saw Welcher Crotch-kite
and got scared
so i turned it off
set it on fire
and threw it out the
window.

i left the house once today.
It was to check at
the store to see if they
had gotten
any more strawberry rings,
they hadn’t.

i went home.
i’m still here
getting drunk
drunk
drunk
and high

again.

Love (for Lack of a Better
Term if You Must)...

politely you might call it,
only perversely
or if you were a pilates instructor
bending bodies to
fibrous favours
you’d have me
misconstrue
as luck of the draw
ten thousand times repeated
till a winner is found
in this small lot.

But i knew,
i knew
because late one night
lying in bed exhausted
you’d asked for
it
exactly the same
breathing hot on my neck in the
casually cast light
whispering my names
all in a row, chanting,
incanting a binding
spell ,
till logic and magic
have made up and held
sweaty palms
in
caressing
each other, the despair
of knowing they’ll
never
conceive.

Epilogue (eulogy) to a
(for a)
Poem

Absentmindedly
or ironically [I don’t even feel like bothering with the
brackets
on this one you dumb fuck (but I did{i always
will})].

It all boils
up to immaterial
evidence;
some immature
sentiment,
and a bottle
that will never warm
no matter
how long or close you hold it.

Somewhere
there is
a beer
that won't go flat.

I'll never taste it,
solid against the universe
that's
projected onto my
scream.