went
on line
maybe
find
inspiration
for a rhyme
read
about f.b.i
searching
for a teen
feared
to have been abducted
gang
raped
and
fed to alligators
WTF?!
and
people think i have issues
woody
allen said,
“two
wrongs don’t make a right
but
three left turns do”
i
walk in the darkness
so
thick you can feel it
touch
it, taste it
and
yet even in an alley
without
any light
i
can see i have two shadows
the
only music i listen to are
modern
noir songs
the
aftermath of mazzystar
but
not quite as high
on
mount olympus
oh
by the way
your
phone fucking annoys me
if
we are defined by the obsession
in
our hand
then
i stand accused
of
being obsessed with female breasts
i
hope you weren’t thinking i’d make sense
i’m
just walking on this cold l.a. night
well,
cold
for los angeles
and
once again
not
sure where i really am
don’t
really care
plenty
of cigarettes
couple
of pints packed away
oh
yeah
i’m
on the dark streets of decay
which
i’ve never walked with anyone but me
kind
of like masturbation
except
sometimes i copulate with concrete
when
i pass out incoherent in some
forgotten
alley
wake
up without a tally
because
i know time doesn’t exist
it’s
just how we interpret
the
results of the rotation and revolutions
happening
in a hemisphere
nowhere
near here
my
cat is neat
licks
herself on the couch
slouched
actions
speak louder than words
and
her actions are that there are
no
problems when all you concern
yourself
with are the demands
of
your own wants
but
i was never very good at school
lessons
to be learned
i
couldn’t discern
while
i stared at my teacher’s breasts
some
ignored me
some
just smiled
but
all this guile
didn’t
stop them from giving me an F
on
my test
because
i only studied the material
of
their maturity
finding
nothing else on the curriculum
interested
me
because
even at thirteen
poetry
was meant for the possession
of
pulchritude
these
damn lighters from the marijuana dispensary
sent
free, with every weed delivery
are
so cheap
making
it difficult to light cigarettes
first
world problems
but
then again
all
art is a sin
to
those who don’t
take
it on the chin
and
fathom that self-expression
is
a daily act of being born again
diagnosed
with multiple personality
disorder
when
you thought all you were doing
was
sorting through the emotions
that
everyone else ignored
***
