put your gun down

barbed wire
ended plots
put your gun down

roller rinks
think tanks
whore houses
TV show sets
dimly lit rooms
comfy bar stools
wheel chair ramps
penguin costumes
air fields
landing strips
alien abduction cases
fruit punch
happy faces
base ball fever,
baseball forever,
some think
crystals and prisms
shards of light
of glass
glasses sliding down
distorted expression
running through
a field
of vision
remembering it all
more hell
energy encasing
pretty features
banyan tree
bonsai tea
kamikaze knee

jogger’s lag
smoker’s cough
captain’s crunch

rapist’s schedule
Kafka’s novel
a place
to sit down
put your
money down
put your
gun down
toilet flush
face flushed
gas station pricing
the sky
the sea
the land
shit talking
closed doors
honey wine

Sign at street comes on in a headache flash of a jump with a rusty trunk going up to reveal leaves and dirt all over the engine. The whole contraption is a game of dominos the second you pull that haystack needle holding your breath—there it goes! I figured out what a blur it is—that is, there are some things your mind likes to blur or tune down, but more specifically, blur. A good concept by day, easy to visualize. In conversation, there’s the other person’s face across from you and all the background of the world behind them you just grey out, which is what you see in magazines and elsewhere and well, we bring one thing quickly into focus and blight out the rest, and it’s reflected in design and attitude—Paid for, or your friend acquires, or it’s just there, and the rest goes to the back burner. On hold. Spacial organization of materials and concepts to accomplish goals one through ten. Blend! Blend what ya gotta blend. Partly what it means to be a morning person is your personal ability to blend back in with the hustle and bustle of society for yet another brand new day after another disastrous night of never enough sleep, drunkenly you flip around as dead fish to the alarm clock blaring saying Time again to interact! But it’s all a blur.

But these are not the limiting subjects I want to concern myself with, which are only limiting when I apply the label, but still… I cannot stay stuck Dead fish death right away sudden accident unexpected such a fate as that, oh god not for me, I embrace the details like forensics because I did not become me on my own all by myself. Ponder that. Ponder nothing.

Discomfort. bits of trash gladly open closed business blinds torn curtains bleed blend blank. Ponder blank distortion and static reverb frames all under water friends caught sick. Ponder sweltering heat and a tear down of the top layer. First aid pretending in denial in luke warm dimensions—the cavity festers and hammers. work hard fruitless fructification at least you’ll know the time as a witness. Ponder the blessing the knowing the awareness. See? Breathe your breast plate steady. Mark the repetitions, thanks. Harassment is alive, a live organism. Desolate statements slake and overtake ponderosa blue faced scarecrow winds, accept in earnest. Pushed down the daisy chain—explain to them forever, for if you ever stop, it’s apocalypse of pop pap an evening Sunday or otherwise underdressed understated
not at all dressed.

Undressed Intro to life to life 101 to just thrown out into the middle of the road, no reference point. Didn’t ask for so much of this and that, reeling hurt, up early hurting, up early hurting with one light on, up early hurting with one light on never forgiving myself… Though I’ve not had to put on gloves and take off gloves to hide away, I only leave evidence of good things to come.

so wish me well

bless these sneezes
all winter long

wish me well
like you are the
well wisher of mankind
like you are kind
like you are a man

sneezes seduce my nose and nose hairs

vomiting messiahs
make my knuckles hurt
while I play poker with
the whores

I unknowingly vow
and consciously
invoke lottery winnings behind
closed doors

not a fly
will come to harm
in the filming
of this poem


UNLOCKED, pigs hate to be called cops

that lady had so much work done on her face
she’s hardly recognizable now—they use her
for random drunk driving campaigns and
this is what happens when you
get behind the wheel after you smoked
the weed in the glove compartment
good luck with all that
luck to you and your fervent weed smoking

see where that gets you
see where it doesn’t get you
see somehow
get those eyes pried open, opened up
unclenched little minions little lackeys
hey, I’ve got problems
I’ve got staring problems
hey I’ve got my hands tied here!
sure ya do!
I’m all alone with my thoughts here
someone dial THREE numbers!
while I use a 4 letters to tell you
where you can go

if us meek shall inherit the earth
it’s because 
we’ll go postal…
what you wanna here, is it not?
that we’ll do it like that, say what?
but you’re the one
to my mind—
who will be fucking it up, fucking losing it
you’ll be the who loses it in the end

you’ll be the one licking those stamps
everyone predicts this

my data grows restless and unhinges
into big blood thinner smiles of
static void of
stillness morn
exceptionally gnarled

dialed midnight freakish

go see what you can see

ground to shreds

shredded documents ta
shredded documentaries

sanskrit subtleties—
om namo superfluous super nannies

ripped badges, engulfed baggets 
pre-processed : post processed


kindling gladness

poP Pop Pop 

stop—at the next sign
you see

on a dime,
this time you’ll be
close to everything
you can 

open your eyes to 
confined reason
your religion

chopped base of
bean stalk

Kraft Mac ‘n Cheese
shady business dealings

lifelong conditioning

accomplished actor acts out
in real life,
ODs in real life, autopsy (solitary) (solution)

how is it a solution to
owe it all back to the banks
so the banks own you?

in reality, a side of town
revved engines
split ends
Real men
compact lifestyle buyouts
plain as day

plane as knife into building’s gut
with nothing to say

blood as fire

you see it? me too

cops hate to be called pigs
Pigs hate to be called cops

I’m Fumbling—Unknowingly
through Cemetery plots K through L
L for lethargy 
or Lemon, as in the car-you-drive
but aren’t they all trucks here?
(in) Texas,
everyone drives (a) truck

while I drive alone with my thoughts

you see it coming? I see it coming

taught myself to say it:
“I’m a philosopher…”

yeah, that’s right—
I’ve grown up
I’m a big boy now
my favorite philosopher
by the way—is me!
free enough to know better
and I take shit from nobody!

no need to impress you
with my nervous system concoction
of words

been around
long enough
to know
there’s no one
who’s anybody
to really answer to

was born into this
to be born back out of it—
party animal
partly animal
strange indoor animal

the zen keys
are there for
opening all the doors
already unlocked

and naw, I don’t eat pork, 

Downtime Part 2

Turns out my hard drive did crash and I have thus lost years of writing, including some incredible photos, and some of the newer poems in the works. (This is my fault for not having an organized backup system in place.) Not good timing, either, since I have a featured poetry reading coming up on Wednesday, the 19th (@ Notsuoh’s – 8:30pm). The only good news out of all this is that the HD was covered in the warranty and I will be back up and running within the next couple hours. Next up, my heater has decided to stop working in favor of reducing my apartment to a simulation of an icebox for cool people. There are just some things I don’t feel great about. How ’bout you?

Downtime Part 1

Not a lucky week with computers, what with the power outage flipping off the mac in the bedroom and trashing iTunes’ every attempt to function, and today it’s in the cards for my laptop’s hard drive to crash. So, an early morning breakfast with Rachel, then out here waiting for tech support at the Apple Store and checking out the incredible MacBook Air which is so much lighter than I expected, what to speak of the improved keyboard which has a sort of fluffiness to it that makes me want to type and type and type and type.