bowel movement? ! ? a glorious day, indeed!

        the little things in life.....

well...

depends...

how little are 

we talking?

exactly?

that mirror is surelly warped or the right of ownership does not extend to self

your attempts are feeble

             &

insignificant.

that's what i hear

as i drive the fist

through the glass.

affections aside,

i can't help

but agree.

this accumulated time

weighs 

tons.

up&down/ all ways sidewind or mood swings & their health significance from a septic pool

  mouse shit
&  
  rat shit
&
  cockroach chatter
across my personal space.
slippery.

m.o.r. in my gut attest

to that.

  mouse shit
&  
  rat shit
&
cockroach sludge
smeared across
my personal space.

fuck you, abraham
or whoever ghostwrited your
scam.

my god is going to die alone
with no electricity
landline
or pension.
to be found by chance a few days 

into decomposing.

deteriorate? nothing to it; like riding a bike.

 more&more&
         all
on its own
getting increasingly
relaxed
with the notion of dying
&
with dying itself.
interesting as it is
it is not helping
at all.

will is a stupid
      stupid thing.
stupid&stubborn&unseeing.
never survives the contact
with reality;

even when it holds up,
the laughter i hear is the sound
of something else breaking.
most likely
another portion of my

sanity.

laughter i hear
&
the tearing i feel.

absorb  klonazepam
collapse into sleep
dream of fucking
&
shooting;
what little love
i
got
&
gave;
respectively.
all the strain my resistance ever
secretly yearned.
laughter rises in pitch;
what has snapped this time,
i do not bother to inspect.

i can picture it more clearly than you can stomach

steel hurts
more than it should

blunt all ready
fucking standards or
more precisely the lack of,

assured tear on exit
but
,
push against the pain
a bit more
&
pop,

we're in.

negative pressure
vacuum gives to red

8 seconds of
countdown
5 of
timelesness.
a single rewarding experience left
no rewarding experiences left.

i told you so or format all drives & keep your fingers & feelings to yourself

how to mend
this flesh and bone,
i don't know.

you take things apart
to see what's inside,
end up missing
parts.

you cry your face through
the loose mask,
the leakage reminds
of gauze;
of hospice.
trembling mimetics,
trembling all 22.

deep crack down the middle
up swept brow
unsettling loss of
control
shit,
a genuine
 human falling apart.
terminal.

neurotransmiter reset in 31536000- 1 and counting

mime on neuroleptics,
i can't relax my face.

migraine.

the supposed rapture
turned out to be
a centripetal acceleration,

shit circling the drain.
circling the drain.

hands in the air
&
make some noise;
shit circling the drain.

sewer sweet sewer.

there is something hopelessly romantic about social revolution pt.3

it is not quite daydreaming

if you smell the smoke.
,
& my peripheral vision is on fire
all 360 degrees of it.

a lack of effective options
for bomb
delivery;
as all & everyone
has become
the enemy.

these days,
true revolution exhausts itself
in suicide.

animal trap

hormones drive the meaT
superimposed
nearly impossible to beat.

give in

the only way out
is the way in.
way out
way in.

out.
in.

hypnotizing.
relentless.
give in.

superstructure sets,

sets like lead.
like lead

no,
like neutrons.

hardwired.
wet
control
humiliating
hardcoded
give in.

cognitive dissonance or surprising persistence of happy memories & other unwanted junk

miss her in every & all ways.
      the sheer injustice of
      not being able
      to afford the treatment,
stales the air.

a fine,
fine sadness suspended in space
beauty clean of cliche.

nostalgic grin
&
dry lips.

    injustice
no abstract concept,
just a stupidly inflicted
self injury.
yes.

in every & all ways.

pulling batteries out of clocks,
silence anchors all bullshit
in just the right spot.
just the right spot.
     block out the visual
                          image
                          memory
her beauty in sleep.

suicide's my kin

mental health goes
only so far

until it
rolls back.

sane reason cuts both ways

& i've put fine

edges

       on that blade.

civilisational peak

the stink permiates
along every coordinate.

erectile disfunction is hillarious

anaerobic mode
breathing phosphorus
ruber smoke,
a reall quality show.

suffocating fent calm,
stalls on contact
inoculates the sounds.

      that's better.

pry out the vagus nerve
soak in organochlorides,
that should stint the fallacy
of getting what's deserved.

    a pinch
of Parkinsons.

the clown sttuters and drools
a toluene seer
teratogenic joke.

   laughing my fucking kidney stones off.

fuck history with no place for Makhno

strictly speaking,
it is not impossible,
that
somewhere
some student
is doing an esay
on dead dear Nestor.

he will forget all about it,
as soon as he
grabs the life by the scrotum,
or vice versa
mutatis mutandis.

just as all you oxygenwasters did.

entropy

dust specks
borring through the skin
what a shitty design.
malfunction has outlasted it's usefulness.

tuesday holliday

.80 gauge
a fine caliber,
as long as it's fresh.

artificial colors,
aromas
& presevants,
it's all good.

or so I'm told.
amazing,
considering the death
toll.

never the less,
it's been a while,
& it's happy to see me.
knocks the breath out of my
lungs,
shuts the lights in my eyes
fuck,
you're beautiful.

nostalgia

first time for everything.
including blood poisoning.

this fucking fixation is getting tiresome

I liked it better with no dreams
whatsoever.

irritating
little
pieces
of
rot.

20 cc rigs
&
going for the femoral.
full frontal nudity
completely asexual.
        " what's it like
          sifting an artery?

          you'll know when
          you hit it."

pH short of 3
but, ain't gonna waste,
better waste
a pipeline.
        " went burning red
           from wrist to shoulder
           & stung like fuck.
           but it's ok now."

tools blunted out
ragged edges to the
delicate tissues.
200 grit'll fix it.
        " it's moving about
          but it doesn't hurt
          unless i touch it.
          you think it's a cloth?"

a long day with no past or future
&; hardly any present.
inside-out
the ghosts don't age.

the red blooms

vascular system in vacuum
rats in marrow,

frenzy,

the mirage is aroused
amused
the red light won't show.

butcher probes the meat
hand still
& purposeful,
calous.

a pig merchants touch.

the ironic metaphor
of a collapsed vein
&
absces.
the marrow.
gangrene
butterflies in gut
red.
rush.
beautiful.
in fractal motion.

the mirage laughs
& 
so do I.
the contempt is mutual.

like glycerine, really0deacetylation of 3rd position yields0falling slow0deacetylation0the mind recoils0deacetylation of 3rd position0the horrors0yields0the mind recoils0yields0so slow0yields0 like glycerine03rd position0the horrors0yields

spent
discarded
or
pushed in a corner

centrifuge

the silt

statistically average base
average statistical misgivings

the silt
has a mind of its own

all blunt
kinetic packed
blind

the horrors i've seen
and forgotten