liquor stain tongue smoke ring rolls
awkward hands shaking in the cold
heavy heart still fresh in the folds
filling emptying living tissue
bitten and waiting to bite some
not enough, have to be something
have to be worth realizing

shame, old dog
dirty bomb drops
silence in moving scenes
where trees sidewalks and soda machines
melt together in light radiating
where loss is lossy and negating
Where I am nothing
in a confusing consumer dream
where acting is real reality

I can't count the beats in your chest. I can't fight that beat in mine. Life is but a series of fights, of lonely battles on waterfronts unseen. We watch as those who run forward changing the matter they are running from, toward, with , away from as they go. Trails of papers, and videos slide in that line as they move. We watch and look behind us and see a smaller, dimmer trail. Those who are burning bright rise as they go and escape those bullets of pain that fire down from mountain tops impossibly out of reach. I often feel as if I am crawling on that sandy beach. Spitting the taste of salt and seaweed from the side of my mouth and disappearing into the cover of being an outsider. From this view I can see the world and everything from underneath. Things you wouldn't understand if you only do what you see, if you only read what you need, if you are too scared to bleed.

If you have any I will eat your sin
transferred from you to me
I'm going down anyway
if there is atonement it's latency
diminishes with me

Well god damn here we go again,
sorry sad sucker feeling low again
everybody put on some new damn shoes
everybody put out all that your used to
barreling down barrels of oil in our machines
into our plastics, smokestacks and everything
choking carbon floral chlorides destroying me
destroying the children in arms

fuck these days where i sit alone watching tv. I get nothing, no inspiration, no happiness I feel cold and unamused. All I can do is write. It's a supplement during, before, and between drinks. And as I sip more my memory leaks, words become tweaked repeats of all the things I've said before. I have nothing new to say today and hardly ever come up with anything nearly as interesting as I did on something. I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i ii i i i i ii i i ii i ii i ii i i i i ii i i ii i i i ii i i i ii i i i i i i ii i i i ii i i i i ii i i ii i i i i ii i i i i ii i i ii i i i ii i ii i ii i i i ii i ii iii i ii i ii i ii i i ii i ii i ii ii i i i ii i ii i ii ii i ii i ii i i
who am