Friday, November 23, 2012

But Not For Long

Before the yeast rises run, before the least of my
sizes runs a hole through with the sun,
before the halo in my gun plows holes in
my chest, before my best love rest another
above and inside a rabbit face breast.

Your fascist love some anti resevoir,
shackle me to your rib cage walls and
flay me with your thrice cursed horse hair
whip, cemetery tattoo shovel cunt criticize me me me me me
dig
dig deep before I sober, before I over
over come some pillow on some bed some
straw that held my head my neck my shoulders and
every dead part under that

That
That which,
dumped a cat corpse before a beehive and
sighing resigned itself to forgiveness and
cigarette smoke and the glory of being
an alive being when there are these not
alive beings and in some concrete
admissions and in worms and in
sheepish dicking and in low low
grass and in drink and in deepthink and in
tearful jerkoff and in shaking hunger and in
spiral bliss and in the most cinematic suffering I
am alive I am
alive
I am
alive

Sunday, November 18, 2012

North America America Has Stomach Cancer


Slow decadent suicide is the inevitable end to any life of plenty lived without a deep and conscious connection to the greater forces of existence.

Modern secularism has failed to fill the hole in the human spirit that mass religious belief once did - why has environmentalism and some kind of profound, universal astrophysical science-religion (based in truth not mythology and dogma) not caught on?

Perhaps because "to survive healthily" is no longer the priority - we reached that, it's already achieved, and now "to constantly be stimulating our guts" is the evolved cultural M.O.

So I come back to slow decadent suicide...

Sunday, November 11, 2012

The North America America

... and we're all these
sort of
participants in such
beautiful
collective lies
lies
ro-
mantic fables
of

Monday, November 5, 2012

Fuck

I couldn't come if all the whores in
Lebanon wrote all the
things I'm too afraid to say and
their lips were so full and
ready.

Who masturbates twice at
work today, dirty hands that
get handshook after, nine
to five nine to five nine
to five
nine
to five
pussy juices
handshake
nine to five thick
bodily nine
to five her
feminine
her
factory body her
egg plant
body is a
sex plunder begging
for fuck and
fucking fuck and
some anti chastity backhand to
the face in some hot pent up
moment of
His gut fury and her sweat smells and
some shared golden ball that is the
center of the universe between the
legs.