avalon street, los angeles, no mists

(if you buy a cup of coffee

they’ll let you wifi

to post pathetic poetry)

 

(je ne suis ennuye quand vous parlez)

 

everyone’s always in a hurry

destination accomplishment

compiling the moments

so that one day they won’t

have moments like this

 

that’s all i see

that’s what i use to be

if the mimic wasn’t meaningful

to my goal of not having to live this way

then it served no purpose

 

slowly i unraveled the thread

of this illusion

realized building blocks are a crock

took waking from the dream to an extreme

accomplishments accomplish nothing

 

i celebrate the moment

live like there’s no tomorrow

have no regrets

over whiskey or cigarettes

there’s no such thing

as consequence

it’s just a series of events

to which we bring our preconceived notions

 

i’m not doing anything but the moment

and what at that moment matters to me

without expectation of what the moment should be

to bouquet me happy

 

the allure of a cure is impure

if in the moment i can make a difference

then a difference i make

buy a homeless person a cheeseburger and shake

 

then move on to whatever materializes

in the next moment

trying to be god and play

matchmaker between sorrow and solace

will only expose your own frailty

it’s suppose to only be a temporary hug

otherwise you will understand why atlas shrugged

 

right now the only thing in front of me

are the confines of concrete

we call civilization

while wondering if the apocalypse

would really be a bad thing

 

oh

and the only way to be a back alley buddha

is to not give a shit what anyone else thinks

 

believe me

everyone’s just a prophet on a soapbox

in a pentecostal park

and my fantasy is to have a conversation

with someone who isn’t already foaming

at the mouth

as soon as they start to talk

there’s an agenda

it could be as simple as sugar or splenda

and i realize the only mouth i prefer

is the mouth of a bottle

and why the only thing i want to hear

are the plugs in my ears

attached to my mp3

 

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

 

i mean

you’re so ignorant you can’t conceive

your own deceive

and all i see

is another self-absorbed human being

who needs me to agree

because you are too lazy to perceive

that happiness doesn’t exist

within your context

 

masturbation is meant to be done alone

especially when your mind

has no allure that makes me want to watch

 

hey jude can you just let it be?

what i wrote last night on

the dark streets of decay

has no bearing on this moment

and what i am experiencing right now

hey sherlock

the moment is always changing

that’s why my pen is stocked full of chatter

expressing the only thing that matters

which is this moment

 

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