rara avis rara avis siva arar sive arar

transubstantiate, ive always been inside you, felt the inside of your openings where light hits.
touched your childhood through car doors. the insides of your ribs, the determination of your heart,
the indifference of your soul. drug myself in your wet hair. i baptized you in a pool, would make love to you on a bar stool. i slid down your throat and populated in your hand.




WHAT AM I???


i am crazy...


i'm going to start a youtube channel informative broadcast that slams Glenn Beck for the 'pencil dick asshole' and megalomaniac he is.  and i'm going to wear crazy outfits as well...becuz i'm crazy.  who'd watch me?

im a demon>logged out.er

your dick always comes out when we're watchin a movie.
well....no shit.
I havn't got to the part yet where I can show you new, cool and interesting films yet without trying to unfold your arms and legs, jump onto you... who cares.
I can't even write what I wanted to.  There's no spark.

today

lanugo

with such vivid detail i googled your name and everything about you

i held liquid trees in my hand and said prayers

we were already in love but i still traced the ending in my head a hundred times

i carried hard burdens buried like the skies bones, heavy like latex

it rained wolf’s teeth and i listened to nina simone in the car, windows down and sound the fuck up.

painted juxtaposition by the candle-lights emissions

melted chipped faces, we were the future of ourselves

like fitting rooms in department stores, do they care you dont wear underwear?

if  there was only one way out how would we get out?

the other day i glanced to see who you were texting,

i’m such a creep.

why is the news the only thing on?  i keep looking for your face on it.

ill put the coffee on before i go out and smoke, that way it’ll be done

by the time i come back and i’ll be cold.

you know i’m drinking coffee to stay up late and talk to you?

that’s how i stay up for everything now, coffee.

i’m really in love with life

i’m really in love with life

i was screaming that at the top of my lungs

and than people started lookin at me.

and if you’re in love with an idea, you run with it, if it works

like only news tv works.

...oh thank god, a muppets’ christmas is on.

holy shit...can someone tell me if it should be ‘muppet’s’ or ‘muppets”?

is muppets one entity or is it a plural... i guess kermit is one muppet.

haha, muppet that’s a funny word.

you know you watch me when i’m sleeping...

i watch you in match smoke.

and sometimes i want to rip you out of your skin.

in a figurative way, a loving way.

ice caverns moved back and forth my vision or marian apparition

kermit has a joke, kermit has a joke

i hear crows c’awin....c’aw, c’aw, c’awn.

there stacks of dead corn everywhere,

ive logged into your facebook over and over a hundred times already..

just kidding

mornig

gook

class are almost over.
i feel like i'm back in my element, just not in ideal environment
ive been thawed out, like a fuckin drug withdraw or something.
ill ravage myself till im barley alive somewhere breathable though.
i crave to feel nighttime again.
left the stench of something or other in my hair
my armpits smelled like whiskey in the morning.
an overt form of disassociation from people
i am free to roll around the dirt, street,
rub my face in decaying flesh.
there was a can of beer thrown at that boy's head because he called me a pathetic lush
car ride was long always.
i like the bumps or lights, bottle in the passenger seat where you should be,
cigarettes on th floor in place of ur feet.
who thought mixing sparks and vodka was a good idea?
it's not, it's what the clouds intended.
we played checkers with them.
why did "that" girl always end up cryin?
she got us stuck in manhattan because i didn't know how to get back to brooklyn.
at montrose I punched someone who tried to steal my wallet, i ran after that.
i do not meet new people
i will find a family, we will burrow beneath leaves.
i dont really know how to expres what i want to express with words.
i culd do with my hands though.
throug subtle dress
i dont care about makin anythin, it's god providin me with
movements to pull apart my body and destroy it for
esoteric dabbling.
it's divine intervention, it's wind... it's carelessness
drainin carafes of wine.
im not to be blamed for i dont try.
 course through where im meant to be placed
carefully carryin me to the truest meaning i can trace.
it's wind, blinding wind, cooling wind, persuasive wind.
im confined to my jar again
in such a free sense
the only problem is it's winter.
just gravitate where ive walked or been chased
on top the skies nude thrown down slipped off white lace.
while preserved in ice, i'm now preserved in ice.

whatever is happening to my head is making me feel like shit... maybe all the bullshit is finally leaking out

everything is violent

it's just all off the top of the head bullshit... just really vicious or mundane word use.
use of words...just the skeletons of letters a brittle foundation of mechanic dribble.
feeling crazy within something that wont split open on some rare occasion of hating a season or another.
this past spring was nice, summer seemed alright.  space feels so dead i bet, it's violent when birth is conveyed through colliding rock....birth is violent, death is violent, life is violent, comparison shopping is violent. 


there are spider webs around my room again and i'm into it, because i know what it means.  i also know there's only one person i want to explain shit to or try to at least.... everyone else... i dont really care about everyone else.  

i wanna be dismembered by architecture

crushed by someone elses dreams

the sky has died

bleeding rain

im happy cause the trees look like they're dyin too

i am the bow legged devil

stretch out colonies of broken mouths

city buses stopped of corners with a tree and mailbox

identical wave lengths, propensity like the black bench covered in blue gum

"i never had a friend, and i never wanted one"

its freezing, good, slow me down alot

siamese tips of swollen pressed lips

on whiskey runnin ruins  of every ruined sip

hangin on to wounded winged fingernails

expressionless through every dissect

of pinned up skin, bread, wine, spirit, flesh

bruising of one leg or the other, i forget...

lid on air tight, my liver is already dead since twenty-two,

you complete fucking coward

ripped out boundaries of cum stained tights

down alleyway corridors leadin to royal red lounge booths

velvet may as well be draped over the fuckin homeless

in their dwellins of eternity, sky, space, look up, look up

you own this!

torrid tree bark... my milked out visage...

your to much fucking makeup...

my brazen use of dumb words, my brazen way of not giving a fuck, my brazen way of getting arrested for pissing on buildings.

jersey beach braided hair on porch nights

free drugs from my stripper roommate, free hoodie, free everything

you sucked that dude's dick who only had three fingers.

i saw satan, tried to kill myself, i saw him again, i moved out....

and what ever happened to Rudy, did he just walk into the ocean

like some tragic redundant notion...is that about it?

who cares? life never happened!

it's always getting to late,

break new scientific boundaries within ending of life

siamese twins integrate with one another to give birth to anti-christ.

like the chances of good weather.

does shit suck more that im disappeared?

get completely quite when i need a glass of water, see what happens.

all these holes in the doors are mine, i fixed them myself.

the way they look arnt the way they felt.

dress the rich like gamins or somethin

they're all to good for all of this i think...

i am disease, cradled at the roots of my rotted peach tree

losing things feels better than keeping them....

thats why all those messes are fallin from stems

orange spiral of seeping flavor

aroma and moisture

slowly death in savor ....

a car, a plane, couldn't take me far enough away

comfort thy brother

there's a half moon tilted in my stomach.  between any crooked teeth light peeks... radiating everything that is nothing.  no use of stretched miles down highways of deserted country road.  gospels of wind voiced winged noise, everywhere there is dark is light is light is tiny legs crossed like horse hair brushed against naked wooden orchestras.  first time i saw your reflection i saw exactly what you see.  imagery.


rose hips and rosemary and kayak float on open shore of slit throat... exposed every reason of slow slow tortures, bubbled out enclosures.  the rain snowed silver fire like metallic borders of victorian mirrors.  melted from tiny stones rolled into my face so badly i forgot i didn't know how to work a phone.  punched in numbers, just numbers, over, and over and over.
painted my face with the loss of fluid and the gaining of new fluid and lay on yellow carpet in the evening while things are coming or leaving but not seeing.


when we all hugged at the same time for about fifteen seconds it was like we were exactly, all best friends again like we used to be.  thirty seconds after until we didn't care again.  you listened to Del Reeves like a painting but had pictures of modelin woman spread around like disease.  the cups in your room grew apart from desk to windowsill.


i forgot to tend my land.  and hell is higher than my crops reach they burnt ocean bread and my wife will never exist because she is dead in spirit like old panning pans.  huffing  wallmart products, like spraypaint cans.  like dusting dust off how heavenly light leaks in to bright for i cannot see my future even after tonight.

Jackson, when you're eyes bloomed, i knew you were crazy...we'd be best friends soon.
but you died, about three weeks later, abandoned, projecting both our stares at the moon.

helen keller

my sister's hunter

my mom got to drunk....it's 3pm... she already burnt the turkey and ruined thanksgiving.
my sister told me she met the most beautiful girl ever at school, there's just one thing, she has no left hand.
my sister said nigger to her black friend and her friend got offended.  In front of her spanish friend she said, "why is it a big deal for homosexuals to have kids, Hispanics do it all the time. "  My sister says to me, "they didn't make a Matrix one and two... they only made a first one...you know why you think they made a Matrix one and two?"

"No, why?" I said

"Because it was the matrix that made you think that."

"If that's true, I guess everything is fake...I guess I can take my car into that house there, and it doesn't matter.  if I kill people inside and babies, it won't matter.  It won't matter because it's the matrix."

....and that's exactly what I did.

everything is fake

street lamps catch with palms open piles of melted sky

dead bird marionette, my itinerant stare

i did things to you in my head about a million times

rag and bone dealer sold me death in a thimble

its lips are mauve

out windows, when he left i knew he wasn't coming back

last time a cried it's because i thought i heard angels singing

or i was watching a cartoon, it was at jades house years ago, i was on drugs, it's ok.

sleep in you like a cocoon, in the perverted way

washed away, ocean waves

mirrors grow

i bought ties i have not worn

ghosts tip over shit all the time.

i hate bukowski

i believe in romanticizing everything in a poverished life

i want to bruise your knees, photograph you, fuck you, and frame you.

i i i i i i i i i like nature, i like the inside of rooms...ive vomit on girls before.

living like the inuits, in the netherlands nwverlansds

telephone poles where jesus would die.

lights off, the tops of their wires hanging in the melted night sky.

ahh shit...this is it..the death of a mind grown ill

i will bury you in all the sweetness of the strawberry patch, bleeding my hands dry for you and under the determination of wild garlic you will ponder your own greatness on tops of clouds among the romans. when i wake, the water hast escape one moaning brush of desire to fill itself with such a home. will i still want a home? refreshed we'll see if you take after your younger brothers. in the 80's virgin births swept the nation, women everywhere were getting pregnant, quaaludes were cheapest in the 80's. the mary celeste was such a mystery. my mind cant breath...oh no..my mind cannot breath.

what happened to me...shiiiit

Dramatic schemes of black mouthed nothingness.  Dead bird, ripped shirt.  Thoughts attained in arid space.  Warm bathtub and softened skin, softened of burden. Any sugar coated mess of naked words that slipped out of a dress tender and malnourished across a bedspread of floral print that's finally flourished.
Ceiling fan follows the path of my eyes contained on one while the rest spin by.  Layed in piss for days on end when my hands slowly crust over how a willow tree bends.  Found angels atop edges of windows on neighbors roofs.  Played harps in long hallways while most of my blood still is blue.  Paneled sidewalks walked with attempt to renew some sense of temptation or fruit to pursue.  Rotting on limbs while the world grows and learns, to be grown soft and rotted and dropped to the earth.  So ceiling fan tremble the sound of rough love.  To love nothing but midnight and flourish on the wet rug.