ambivalence and still on Tao

too many years to count

or even diagnose
what the fuck got broken .

stupid and childish.
still palpable.

it's a little knot you feel for 

fearing 


        the tumor.

since AK47

and SVD

and Vintorez.

i would really love a Vintorez 9x39.
an awesome machine of rugged simple efficiency.

all our wars fell on my perspective
all of them i missed.

so it seams it is long over due.

desperation is the raw material of drastic change...

  or something in the vein

can't be bothered to look up a cleaner quote.

now,
it appears the Old Pig Feeder was right.

Too fucking bad we shat out 
 most, or all of the pearls,

and spade loads there were.
          for sure.

Too fucking bad he's long since dead
and let me tell you,

Dead mans words
are as dead as he is.

Echo  through timelessness 
         and Dead.

Too fucking bad i never got
   to know him,
i am sure he wouldn't like me 


    at all. 

maturity

I don't laugh as most my teeth rotted

 away
 I don't cry as good times were a long time

 ago
 I don't eat as i can't afford
               it.
 I don't live as i have thought it through thoroughly.


 quarter by quarter half by half horizon never got close.

YOU KNOW THAT MOMENT WHEN YOU REALIZE THAT IMPACT IS IMMINENT.... WHAT DO YOU DO? GRAB SOMETHING, SCREAM, OR MAKE A STUPID FACE? GUESS WHAT I DID...

on the verge of

happening

slow

senseless

run

one good reason

after all

running

away or to

difference is irrelevant

at this point.

you were my only

good reason

what a petty fool

how i wish i could

senseless

not too much

to look forward

to

every scenario

that i can write

excludes

you.

i

am on the verge

of happening

it slides

so slow.

i bet it's going to hurt

like dying

all over again.

ALIGN THE PIPELINES INSERT IMPLODE

peculiar, how this vertigo seems to last every time...

the instance between parting of flesh

and searing, gut moving rapture

i understand all in that blink of suspension

i lose it all the moment it hits

you know my filth

i'm split down the middle in front of you

this is why we do it

for one billion goodbyes.

A SURPRISINGLY RICH DAY

spineless

that's the word....

i am spineless.

stupid and selfish.

merely living is a responsibility

as is loving.

i am stupid.

had it too easy

way too easy to understand.

shame.

shame

that by now

epiphanies

are overdue.

calm.

I COULD LOOK UNDER THE HAMMER, BUT THAT WOULD RUIN THE DRAMA

two chambers empty

Probability curve

is becoming

Steep.

wish i had some fear left in me

Any.

I AM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR CONDITION, LIFE STORY OR APPEALS FOR COMPASSION

eyesocket

something Wet and Horrible gleaming

there;

spasmic cough

a fine Mist of blood

barely visible on the background of

cyanosis.

Now you See it

Now you Don't.

Fuck off and steal a JOb.

steal a Life.

Steal what you Need.

Steal what you can.

BAD THINGS ARE ABOUT TO HAPPEN

Right.

Non Wiser and not A bit stronger.

it's time.

last cup of coffee

last cigarette

i hate the taste morning brings.

everything Tight and Secure

Reliability is important

when bad things are About to happen.

it's time....or close to it....

exactly which moment is the Last?

the Flaws inherent in the system

are more pronounced in some

cases.

not a Statement on the system.

not a Statement on the case.

that's me

Being

powerless.

WRENCHING

repossessing the vacated rooms

of my inner home.

probing, feeling around

suspicious of spontaneity and all

romantic attributes of the psyche.

nevertheless.....

scrub down the windows

impregnated with dead spiders and abandoned

webbing... grease and sweaty fingers of my

less than favorite selves... smeared with

fear

errors

and overthinking things.

missing object game.

i spot the difference yet the words fail me.

serene and balanced

amounting to happiness?

that's got to be it.

what else could pull so undeniably

on my masks?

reductio ad absurdum of sorts....

i would love to believe it

anyway.

DARK GREY TOURNIQUET, STRIPED DARK RED. GLASS WARES. PRETTY TOYS. GAME IS: NO QUARTER ASKED, AND NONE GIVEN.

Dead in the water,

Might as well enjoy it.

i am repared for every fucking thing, life included

_




pseudonarcosis

hypnagogic states

staring at your absence

completely unaware

... that i am chewing

through my cheeks.



copper and rust

and a hint of bitterness,

so... .... ....... ...

Something to it

i can not quite grasp,

a dream like quality;

the kind that leaves

with the loss as massive

as a dead

sun.



wake with Empty

Red palms

life level with

ashtray;

juuuust out of reach.



Luckily,

i can cum this blood a great deal

further

than i can reach.

we're covered.

cotton fever

_





insufficient and

inappropriate measures.

Desperate measures.

than, why not just quit the fucking

game?

i'd like to.

Every New fix sprays the

stench.

Desperate measures.

Just forget.

i would like to.

but can't.

it Simmers

than Boils.

Simmers

Boils

Tie up.

Here we go.

Desperate measures.

as Desperate do.

metastasis

_



days stringed on a single line of reassurance.

maybe tomorrow.

the thing is...

it isn't working.

i still miss you the same.

this is how it was; first breathless, than all spectral and grey

_




watching myself in this dirty spoon makes me wanna skin myself and
roll in the lye.



steering this aging corpse around

like i belong inside

me and my meat are not getting along,



not at all.



Singularity

RLS and insect agony.



plunger back aaaand

...

Register.

..

Shall we proceed, Master?

.

Push that sterility in, Dzerzhinsky

All of it.



Joy to the fucking world

for i am done.

ad hope when necessary

_






i come from the land of swollen identity

false yet palpable causes for misery

i come from the wars of abiding stupidity

the sacred Uroboric massacre

i come from a failed marriage and torn family

squalor and poisoned meals

i come from the ravages of dreams

not broken, but worse ...disillusioned



this is the poison path

"the place of dead roads"



and still i can see beauty in everything

on occasional sunny day

i am my fathers son

_




the door knob is an old familiar shape

anticipation in hand

pull hard to unlock

the dark inside smells of home

of me.



silhouette against the tv screen

"hello son" is an old familiar sound

uncertain hand shake

silence that weighs 13 years

at least.

the how and why to the failure of the generation of poorly lighted crossroads

_



it's all downhill from now,

said Jesus

and fixed up.



that was before he realized

that he didn't die

at 27.

gratitude is hard..

...




the total mass of mutual guilt

has pushed our lives into something

new.

it feels like gravity.

it feels too bad to be True,

accelerating into nothing.



What are the Chances?



What are the Chances of passing someone

close enough to Orbit again?

i all ready know the message.

i knew the answer, before you knew there was a question.



and Still it will hurt.

Leaving bit by bit,

and never really believing.

in vain

.


Mainlining Rust.

i go to bed with 3 razors underneath my tongue
precipitate dreams,

Sweet Dreams.

stale moist bed sheets

formal absence of all precious things

Broken Bone Moment.

Dead flies Braille

reading Vacuum off crusted mouldy plates...
Passing Time.

where have you been?

warm living flesh, a hand upon my cheek

it falls right through me...

Words Disintegrating into Sounds.

Broken Bone Moment Again.

strength required for solace fades among all these
Dead Things.

You are My phantom limb

You are My phantom limb

a formal absence of all precious things.