Monday, April 29, 2013

Internet Baby Can't Handle the Truth

you project an image
that we all see
you defend an image
you feel we believe
you plagiarize moments in time
you remodel pictures, with all your disguise
you desensitize memories
and infiltrate futures
you've created a network
but this isn't dreamworks
and you are slowly
losing all your pixels,
internet baby, take a step outside
internet baby, quit typing your lies
internet baby, you are so lonely and disconnected
refresh. reboot.
internet baby, we've got nothing left for you

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Your Business is a Disease, Left For Someone Else to Catch

your business is not something i want to invest in.
you in general are just  a waste of space and are
eating up my contributions to society in the
most unnatural, unpleasing, and severly unhygienic
ways. your business is something like laundry,
and you've hung it to dry in the most public of
places, leaving it in the park for anyone to come
and gander, to poke and prod, to make assumptions and to assume 
is surely what is happening, but you're in the business of lies and deceit, 
of debt and regret. your business is a sinking ship 
and even those become valuable because the legends
 start up and there are souvniers and we are all suddenly standing in line waiting 
for the foam fingers and light up sticks so we can show 
that we had known and known all along. your business is a closed shop on the corner 
of a downtown street; filled with squatters and bad publicity. 
you are the face of a serious problem. your business is something i want away from
but it's like a toxic poison dripping into all the outlets and found
 on bus stops and under couch cushions. you business is a disease left 
for someone else to catch, you think your operation is baseball 
but you are missing all your targets and all your balls have fallen out of your basket. 
your business is something we don't want to get into. 
but you've corrupted our lives with all your cries and i am trying to cut all ties, 
but to cut the ties would mean to die and to die by your side; 
would be such an incredibly fucked up thing to do 
because your bed has been made, and lay with the roaches you will
 because the flowers have all spoiled and you words are charred and broiled 
and i hope you get out of the business of being in our business, 
you filthy animal.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Moon Bound

scattered pop culture,
throwing in the magazine.
i don't want to be involved
with my own self proclaimed
insanity, but if i were to meet
myself on another day, i might
just try to talk myself into
a different way, but as i converse
with myself in the middle of this
afternoon i cannot help but
distaste the doom and
beg for something different
to get me to the moon.

Monday, April 8, 2013

Devouring Myself

Already the season is changing and I have yet to board the ship. The time is lapsing and I feel the urge to miss. And as we do go passing, like two strong solid ships, you will be full of passengers and I will be full of shit. There is a different kind of air coming in from the east and it is uplifting me from my sit, demanding greatness at least... but I have misplaced my feet to step up to the plate and I am starving for a solitude that has me clothed in a terrifying defeat. I imagine me seeing you in a warmed little shop, touching trinkets and ruffling hair, paying no attention to the clock. All the while I am seeing you I can't help but feel like I don't belong and I probably never will due to my turning infiltration of devouring myself. And as I cause a ripple in my own stream I will always admire that you were grounded there with memories while I was off on a forever flee.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Unlocking My Atmosphere

there was a moment of devastation,
a brief flaunting moment where i thought
the walls i had created were going to
crumble down, leaving me in a pile of
rubble, rubble i still dont think i am ready to
try and go through, put back together.
i dont want to collect the pieces.
id rather leave them there, discarded
for some lost soul to find and take a look.
ill find new walls to build, under different
sun and with new surroundings that i
wont care to see, but i should be fine.
and knowing that someone else is looking
at what was once me and thinking about
it makes me think i might not need these
walls, but my heart is far to weak for
such nonsense.. and the possibilities.
i dont think my heart is ready for the
possibility of telling you all about my
opportunity to move up and out without
the walls.. i think i want that sense of
freedom, i want to just be. and to be
without the confinement of myself, i was
locked in my own prison and i have
picked the lock and am stepping out
into a different kind of cage within
the atmosphere and giving it a shot.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Half a Bottle, Half Shaved Legs

She drew a bath.
Drank half a bottle of wine.
Sat back. Relaxed.
Murmured to the curtain about
her life, her job, her day, her future.
She propped up one leg.
Lathered. And shaved it precisely.
Sat back. Relaxed.
Finished the other half of the bottle.
Propped up the other leg.
Lathered. Shaved absent mindedly.
She drains the tub.
Towels off.
Goes to bed.
She likes to feel her legs
                                                      in bed, the way a man would
                                                      feel them, after half a bottle of wine.