it took us
about 12 hours
to get where
it is we are
(ain't got a clue
where it is we are,
but it sure is neat)
it's gonna take
at least double
the time it took
to get here
to get back to
normal, texas
back to where they say
we're supposed to be
i don't know about you,
but i ain't lookin' forward
to our return to the
ol' black & white
you can thank
the powers that be
for closin' down the
roads that lead to forbidden
technicolor nether-regions
god forbid
we be able to
travel to places
where things are
exactly as they seem.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
untitle nothin'.
during the day
i do not turn on
any overhead lights
if i can help it
front & back doors are
always propped open
providing just enough
natural sunlight for my tastes
& at times, a cool breeze
but sometimes nothin' but
stale death heat
blows through
unless it's to the cat
i try & not speak outloud
praying the phone doesn't ring
i do household chores
prepare meals
feed/pet/scold the cat
write (although not as much as i should)
listen to books on cd & random songs at high volumes
have lunch by myself at the table, my table
i find these things
every bit as necessary
to my survival
as the mayans or aztecs
saw ritual sacrifice
as a means to please
the gods above
although my sacrifices
are not quite as
dire & meaningful
they are none the less
sacrifices
sacrifices
that allow me
to perform these
daily rituals.
i do not turn on
any overhead lights
if i can help it
front & back doors are
always propped open
providing just enough
natural sunlight for my tastes
& at times, a cool breeze
but sometimes nothin' but
stale death heat
blows through
unless it's to the cat
i try & not speak outloud
praying the phone doesn't ring
i do household chores
prepare meals
feed/pet/scold the cat
write (although not as much as i should)
listen to books on cd & random songs at high volumes
have lunch by myself at the table, my table
i find these things
every bit as necessary
to my survival
as the mayans or aztecs
saw ritual sacrifice
as a means to please
the gods above
although my sacrifices
are not quite as
dire & meaningful
they are none the less
sacrifices
sacrifices
that allow me
to perform these
daily rituals.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
an untitled selection from the unfinished bk "theft: how to beat the high cost of living".
******
one day
during my stint
in kindergarten
i stole
a miniature figurine
of a goose
that was made
out of quartz
from my teacher
after school
while waiting
for someone to
come & pick me up,
paranoia set in
knowing i would not
have answers for
the questions
that were sure to come
about my ill-gotten
shiny little bird,
i began to dig
digging a hole
right there
in the school yard,
burying the bird
my beautiful
crystallized
secret.
******
one day
during my stint
in kindergarten
i stole
a miniature figurine
of a goose
that was made
out of quartz
from my teacher
after school
while waiting
for someone to
come & pick me up,
paranoia set in
knowing i would not
have answers for
the questions
that were sure to come
about my ill-gotten
shiny little bird,
i began to dig
digging a hole
right there
in the school yard,
burying the bird
my beautiful
crystallized
secret.
******
Monday, September 21, 2009
GRANDPA?
was just told
a story about
my papa
walkin' down
meadowbrook drive
in ft. worth, texas
during the dead
of the fuckin' night
wearin' just
a bathin' suit
& a pair of boots
while clutchin' a
pitcher of beer
in his hands.
a story about
my papa
walkin' down
meadowbrook drive
in ft. worth, texas
during the dead
of the fuckin' night
wearin' just
a bathin' suit
& a pair of boots
while clutchin' a
pitcher of beer
in his hands.
Monday, September 14, 2009
nice vocab, chief. (another senseless vicious attack on my part)
you would think someone who calls himself a writer could come up with better things to say. but that is apparently not the case.
i'll admit that the video of the dying possum that i killed is fucked up. that's why i felt i had to share it. i ain't never dealt with some shit like that before in my life, nor do i want to again. i saw it as some fucked up bizarro shit that folks don't see everyday.
i'll also admit seein' that tail curl up like that was kinda neat.
well, here's the wrath that i received by some wannabe psychedelic fucktard that calls himself pk ventura.
i'll also sprinkle in some of his videos & scribblings just for shits & giggles.
here goes. (all his stuff is in italic print)
evryone flag this piece of shit video--this motherfucker is going down
(ok, that one i probably deserve. i have fucked my mother.)
shut you jizz soaked pie hole, you retarded inbred cracker. you will be killed soon
(this was a response to me putting a comment on a william s. burroughs / allen ginsberg video he posted. i said somethin' about how both of those writers were known pedophiles, but that it must be cool to glorify such things. or somethin' like that. i'd copy & paste it here for all to see, but he immediately took my comments down. that's why i kept re-postin'em throughout the day. gigglin' like a little girl, every fuckin' time i clicked post)
these are the multiple comments pk ventura has left on my youtube channel. this shit is so fuckin' great.
#1 - you motherfucking slimeball piece of shit. I hope someone puts an ax through you fucked up brain today
#2 - fuckface
#3 - you suck the cocks of enormous blacks in prison, right? i heard about you, what does nigger jizz taste like?
#4 - You are shit du bist scheiss tu est merde tu es mierda
mr. ventura posts regularly on a msg board run by someone with some actual talent. his name is name is nick, he has a blog called "roscoe martini: my world". i've had a link to it on the sidebar hear for quite sometime & you should really ck it out. so, yesterday i get on his msg board & see that good ol p.k. has responded to a comment i posted. nick had posted a drawing he did & somewhere scribbled on it was the # 333. here's what got a big ol' stupid ball of shit rollin'.
fake dada: 333......yr halfway there, mister.
pk ventura: "halfway" where? Norm's a great artist, you possum-kiling freak. (yr writing is lame, btw)
(among other things, my response contains a very graphic description of my confrontation with the possum that died by my hands. so beware. i knew this would enrage this fool.)
fake dada:hmmm...
i think double 333 just might be 666. if my scientific calculator is working properly.
666 = number of the beast. right? it was a silly retarded joke.
yr right. i'm lame. oh well. feel better?
i hit that possum in the head with a cinder block a few times. still hissing. so i started hitting it with the blunt end of a broom. nice hard, sharp hits to it's head. probably 20 or so times. when we first saw the possum in the house, it had knocked over a can of white paint that apparently wasn't closed very well. his face & upper body were caked with it. completely covered one of it's eyes. was also laying in a big pool of it. the blood that was coming out of his head mixed with the white paint & made the loveliest pink swirls. sometimes through death comes art.
i'm just glad i got it's last few breaths of life on this here earth on video. if you watched the last few seconds of the video carefully, then you remember seeing the possum's tail curl up.
not that it matters either way, nick, but i won't be posting comments or new stuff here anymore. but will most definitely ck to see if you've got anything new up. keep it up.
pk ventura: If I ever see your ugly ass face I'll take a broom handle (or whatever's around) and beat your puking brains out you cock choking mother fuking pig stink monkey whore. Nobody wants your shitty ass posts--Norm just doesn't like getting involved in confrontational situations--But I ####ing LOVE to, so keep up your bullshit--You crazy serial killer punk ass jerkoff Insane Clown Posse listening weirdo fat balding loser--Do the world a favor--Kill yourself--
(just so you know, this shit has had me crackin' the fuck up ever since it started with him flippin' out on my video)
here's his band, wes miles virus:
(remember that episode of the simpson's where homer makes that video of ned flanders for that video dating service? i do. "star wipe....& we're out." -homer)
i've read a few things of his over the past yr, that i thought were kinda neat. but for the most part, this was not the case. so i just stopped reading his posts. (no need to tell'em how i didn't much care for his stuff. well, that changed.) but i do enjoy reading pk's comments to nick's posts where here verbally shoves nick's cock into his mouth. here's a sample of pk's writings:
There was a small, but tightly organized gang, known as the "cleans" to the populace at large, and generally killed on sight if recognized--but they disguised themselves well, learning to immitate the "normal" mannerisms of the avarage street-walking crack head--twitching nervously, peering about in paranoiac agitation, sniffling incessantly, biting off tiny bits of skin from around their fingernails...of course, most citizens kept their stash--usually obtained by sucking some fat biker's knob--well hidden, but the "street warrior' types who feared No One huffed the crystal cocaine from huge bongs openly in the streets--they have to beat the fags and whores off with knightsticks who want to suck their throbbing, worn out cocks (sucked raw) for even the tiniest crumb of the super addictive spacecrack... Some "Cleans" will even engage in this perverse activity just to keep the ruse up--But secretly they are attempting to mobilize a resistance against the aliens. they are stockpiling gunpowder, bullets, firecrackers, fertilizer, car batteries, gasoline cans and bottles of pure ethanol--They plan on mounting an offensive three eggs from now--Their plans of course become nullified if next time they land, They decide to simply wipe the rest of us out... The name's Hillary Vimps. I work for the Resistance, but aint no Clean. i huff more crack hits than Whitney Houston, but I'm the best there is at what i do. I'm in charge of gathering intelligence on these alien cocksuckers. I've already assembled a file on them more detaled than Darwin's dicklice... I know (for example) that Michael J. Fox was the first alien implant released for mass consuption--A hermaphrodytic leper from the Horsehead Nebula---Then Ronnie Reagan was flown in from Alpha Centauri on a nucyular timewarp saucer and once he was in office you had Michael jackson, Joan Rivers, Bono, Sting, and all thse goddamn aliens coming in, buying up the planet--no one suspected a thing--until Obama's eyes turned to two beetleblack bulging eggs on national TV press conference and next thing the whole shit house blows wide open--Slaughter the likes of hiroshima put to the scale of ants--Arma####inggeddon!--and now they want me to clean up this mess?--well I'm just the mother####er for the job. I lit a blast of that fine alien coke and sat back. i already knew seven words in the aliens's language: "Preebers" meant "Humans"; "Dlaa-gorp" meant "crack-cocaine" 9not sue which element is which however) etc. it is an ugly, unbeauteous language of bodily bleeps and gloops, the language crustaceans would speak were the capable. A knock suddenly came at the door-- It was my neighbor, Chucj--I let him in and let him smoke a few hits of my crack--His bloodshot eyes radiated pure pain until the drug smoke rushed out of his mouth in a dense white vaportrail and he fazed back into the sofa, the dead red eyes now glazing over as a twitching, rottentooth smile spread across Chuck's wrinkled, leathery face. "Shit man," he says "When i first met you, I thought ya was a ####in Clean, man". i laughed. "you gotta be jokin"...Chuck's girlfiend, who was actually posing as a Clean to gain access to the ethanol supply (she drank it) came in, sloshed as usual. Her hair was bleached almost white, and there were huge bald spots where she'd been pulling it out in back. i let her bum a few hits as well. They never had any money, and their groceries all came from some dumpster. Everything was running out for people like them. sometimes I wonder if they're even worth saving.
throughout the day i have kept my wife, rebel star, updated with all the bullshits of today from this ventura guy. her response is to create a youtube acct of her own just so she could talk some shit to this guy. thanks reb, lurve you to. GET THAT MOTHTERFUCKER!!! here's the e-mail she sent'em, titled "I can tell you're really cool..".
......by the shitty collage on your page. Wow! You think Heath Ledger as the Joker is cool? So does my 13 year old daughter, so you're in some really elite company. But in her defense, she has much better taste in music, as she would never be caught dead listening to R.E.M. or the Cure. Strictly for pussies.
And you smoke salvia? Neat. I'm very impressed that you are so in love with the shittiest hallucinogen ever sold for inflated prices in head shops.
You say you're a writer. Does someone pay you to write, because I'm less than impressed. Very eight grade poetry assignment. Does your vagina hurt?
What I am trying to say is, Fake Dada doesn't really like confrontation, but I love to rip pseudo-intellectual assholes like you apart for sport. Let the possum go, mangina. I'm not sure what you do when rabid animals wander into your house at midnight, but we kill them. I didn't want a bullet hole in my floor, so he did what had to be done. Now, if you don't fucking drop it, I'd be glad to kick your ass. I'm a girl, so it's sure to be that much more humiliating.
It's funny that you feel so much for rabid possums, but you think it's okay to throw around the word "nigger" like it's 1957.
In conclusion, go fuck yourself.
(i was a little confused by here sayin' i don't like confrontation, 'cuz this just ain't true. but then she explained to my dumbass that it was a play on mr. ventura sayin' "Norm just doesn't like getting involved in confrontational situations".)
almost forgot about this one. this is a comment left by mr. ventura in response to a spoken word video titled "untitled anger".
AWFUL! -- A bunch of stale cliches stcked knee high and blown over by a fetid wind from your fat flabby ass. Hang Yourself today. You're an ugly motherfucking loser.
this has been fun & i'm sure this won't be the last of it.
i'll admit that the video of the dying possum that i killed is fucked up. that's why i felt i had to share it. i ain't never dealt with some shit like that before in my life, nor do i want to again. i saw it as some fucked up bizarro shit that folks don't see everyday.
i'll also admit seein' that tail curl up like that was kinda neat.
well, here's the wrath that i received by some wannabe psychedelic fucktard that calls himself pk ventura.
i'll also sprinkle in some of his videos & scribblings just for shits & giggles.
here goes. (all his stuff is in italic print)
evryone flag this piece of shit video--this motherfucker is going down
(ok, that one i probably deserve. i have fucked my mother.)
shut you jizz soaked pie hole, you retarded inbred cracker. you will be killed soon
(this was a response to me putting a comment on a william s. burroughs / allen ginsberg video he posted. i said somethin' about how both of those writers were known pedophiles, but that it must be cool to glorify such things. or somethin' like that. i'd copy & paste it here for all to see, but he immediately took my comments down. that's why i kept re-postin'em throughout the day. gigglin' like a little girl, every fuckin' time i clicked post)
these are the multiple comments pk ventura has left on my youtube channel. this shit is so fuckin' great.
#1 - you motherfucking slimeball piece of shit. I hope someone puts an ax through you fucked up brain today
#2 - fuckface
#3 - you suck the cocks of enormous blacks in prison, right? i heard about you, what does nigger jizz taste like?
#4 - You are shit du bist scheiss tu est merde tu es mierda
mr. ventura posts regularly on a msg board run by someone with some actual talent. his name is name is nick, he has a blog called "roscoe martini: my world". i've had a link to it on the sidebar hear for quite sometime & you should really ck it out. so, yesterday i get on his msg board & see that good ol p.k. has responded to a comment i posted. nick had posted a drawing he did & somewhere scribbled on it was the # 333. here's what got a big ol' stupid ball of shit rollin'.
fake dada: 333......yr halfway there, mister.
pk ventura: "halfway" where? Norm's a great artist, you possum-kiling freak. (yr writing is lame, btw)
(among other things, my response contains a very graphic description of my confrontation with the possum that died by my hands. so beware. i knew this would enrage this fool.)
fake dada:hmmm...
i think double 333 just might be 666. if my scientific calculator is working properly.
666 = number of the beast. right? it was a silly retarded joke.
yr right. i'm lame. oh well. feel better?
i hit that possum in the head with a cinder block a few times. still hissing. so i started hitting it with the blunt end of a broom. nice hard, sharp hits to it's head. probably 20 or so times. when we first saw the possum in the house, it had knocked over a can of white paint that apparently wasn't closed very well. his face & upper body were caked with it. completely covered one of it's eyes. was also laying in a big pool of it. the blood that was coming out of his head mixed with the white paint & made the loveliest pink swirls. sometimes through death comes art.
i'm just glad i got it's last few breaths of life on this here earth on video. if you watched the last few seconds of the video carefully, then you remember seeing the possum's tail curl up.
not that it matters either way, nick, but i won't be posting comments or new stuff here anymore. but will most definitely ck to see if you've got anything new up. keep it up.
pk ventura: If I ever see your ugly ass face I'll take a broom handle (or whatever's around) and beat your puking brains out you cock choking mother fuking pig stink monkey whore. Nobody wants your shitty ass posts--Norm just doesn't like getting involved in confrontational situations--But I ####ing LOVE to, so keep up your bullshit--You crazy serial killer punk ass jerkoff Insane Clown Posse listening weirdo fat balding loser--Do the world a favor--Kill yourself--
(just so you know, this shit has had me crackin' the fuck up ever since it started with him flippin' out on my video)
here's his band, wes miles virus:
(remember that episode of the simpson's where homer makes that video of ned flanders for that video dating service? i do. "star wipe....& we're out." -homer)
i've read a few things of his over the past yr, that i thought were kinda neat. but for the most part, this was not the case. so i just stopped reading his posts. (no need to tell'em how i didn't much care for his stuff. well, that changed.) but i do enjoy reading pk's comments to nick's posts where here verbally shoves nick's cock into his mouth. here's a sample of pk's writings:
There was a small, but tightly organized gang, known as the "cleans" to the populace at large, and generally killed on sight if recognized--but they disguised themselves well, learning to immitate the "normal" mannerisms of the avarage street-walking crack head--twitching nervously, peering about in paranoiac agitation, sniffling incessantly, biting off tiny bits of skin from around their fingernails...of course, most citizens kept their stash--usually obtained by sucking some fat biker's knob--well hidden, but the "street warrior' types who feared No One huffed the crystal cocaine from huge bongs openly in the streets--they have to beat the fags and whores off with knightsticks who want to suck their throbbing, worn out cocks (sucked raw) for even the tiniest crumb of the super addictive spacecrack... Some "Cleans" will even engage in this perverse activity just to keep the ruse up--But secretly they are attempting to mobilize a resistance against the aliens. they are stockpiling gunpowder, bullets, firecrackers, fertilizer, car batteries, gasoline cans and bottles of pure ethanol--They plan on mounting an offensive three eggs from now--Their plans of course become nullified if next time they land, They decide to simply wipe the rest of us out... The name's Hillary Vimps. I work for the Resistance, but aint no Clean. i huff more crack hits than Whitney Houston, but I'm the best there is at what i do. I'm in charge of gathering intelligence on these alien cocksuckers. I've already assembled a file on them more detaled than Darwin's dicklice... I know (for example) that Michael J. Fox was the first alien implant released for mass consuption--A hermaphrodytic leper from the Horsehead Nebula---Then Ronnie Reagan was flown in from Alpha Centauri on a nucyular timewarp saucer and once he was in office you had Michael jackson, Joan Rivers, Bono, Sting, and all thse goddamn aliens coming in, buying up the planet--no one suspected a thing--until Obama's eyes turned to two beetleblack bulging eggs on national TV press conference and next thing the whole shit house blows wide open--Slaughter the likes of hiroshima put to the scale of ants--Arma####inggeddon!--and now they want me to clean up this mess?--well I'm just the mother####er for the job. I lit a blast of that fine alien coke and sat back. i already knew seven words in the aliens's language: "Preebers" meant "Humans"; "Dlaa-gorp" meant "crack-cocaine" 9not sue which element is which however) etc. it is an ugly, unbeauteous language of bodily bleeps and gloops, the language crustaceans would speak were the capable. A knock suddenly came at the door-- It was my neighbor, Chucj--I let him in and let him smoke a few hits of my crack--His bloodshot eyes radiated pure pain until the drug smoke rushed out of his mouth in a dense white vaportrail and he fazed back into the sofa, the dead red eyes now glazing over as a twitching, rottentooth smile spread across Chuck's wrinkled, leathery face. "Shit man," he says "When i first met you, I thought ya was a ####in Clean, man". i laughed. "you gotta be jokin"...Chuck's girlfiend, who was actually posing as a Clean to gain access to the ethanol supply (she drank it) came in, sloshed as usual. Her hair was bleached almost white, and there were huge bald spots where she'd been pulling it out in back. i let her bum a few hits as well. They never had any money, and their groceries all came from some dumpster. Everything was running out for people like them. sometimes I wonder if they're even worth saving.
throughout the day i have kept my wife, rebel star, updated with all the bullshits of today from this ventura guy. her response is to create a youtube acct of her own just so she could talk some shit to this guy. thanks reb, lurve you to. GET THAT MOTHTERFUCKER!!! here's the e-mail she sent'em, titled "I can tell you're really cool..".
......by the shitty collage on your page. Wow! You think Heath Ledger as the Joker is cool? So does my 13 year old daughter, so you're in some really elite company. But in her defense, she has much better taste in music, as she would never be caught dead listening to R.E.M. or the Cure. Strictly for pussies.
And you smoke salvia? Neat. I'm very impressed that you are so in love with the shittiest hallucinogen ever sold for inflated prices in head shops.
You say you're a writer. Does someone pay you to write, because I'm less than impressed. Very eight grade poetry assignment. Does your vagina hurt?
What I am trying to say is, Fake Dada doesn't really like confrontation, but I love to rip pseudo-intellectual assholes like you apart for sport. Let the possum go, mangina. I'm not sure what you do when rabid animals wander into your house at midnight, but we kill them. I didn't want a bullet hole in my floor, so he did what had to be done. Now, if you don't fucking drop it, I'd be glad to kick your ass. I'm a girl, so it's sure to be that much more humiliating.
It's funny that you feel so much for rabid possums, but you think it's okay to throw around the word "nigger" like it's 1957.
In conclusion, go fuck yourself.
(i was a little confused by here sayin' i don't like confrontation, 'cuz this just ain't true. but then she explained to my dumbass that it was a play on mr. ventura sayin' "Norm just doesn't like getting involved in confrontational situations".)
almost forgot about this one. this is a comment left by mr. ventura in response to a spoken word video titled "untitled anger".
AWFUL! -- A bunch of stale cliches stcked knee high and blown over by a fetid wind from your fat flabby ass. Hang Yourself today. You're an ugly motherfucking loser.
this has been fun & i'm sure this won't be the last of it.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
WHO WE IS, PT. NOTHIN'.
this here is my 'tardo version of hippy steve's "WHO WE IS" series. hope you enjoy these as much as i have.
also, the 2nd movie has an entry in a bk i'm workin' on titled "THEFT: HOW TO BEAT THE HIGH COST OF LIVING".
******************************************************
******************************************************
******************************************************
ORSON WELLES - F FOR FAKE
*******************************************************
*******************************************************
*******************************************************
DADA DOCUMENTARY
also, the 2nd movie has an entry in a bk i'm workin' on titled "THEFT: HOW TO BEAT THE HIGH COST OF LIVING".
******************************************************
******************************************************
******************************************************
ORSON WELLES - F FOR FAKE
*******************************************************
*******************************************************
*******************************************************
DADA DOCUMENTARY
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
A FUCKED UP POETIC BOOK REPORT TITLED "SAY YOU LOVE SATAN & PCP".
****** ****** ******
a teenaged dusthead
a worshiper of satan
so called "acid king".
****** ****** ******
****** ****** ******
he started a cult
called "knights of the black circle"
that i bet was dumb.
****** ****** ******
hung out in graveyards
smoked 10 bags of angel dust
& longed for satan.
****** ****** ******
the first time
ricky got in trouble
was in eighth grade
he stole a
container of juice
from the church
kinda ironic that he
ends up worshiping satan
& starts by stealin'
from the church.
****** ****** ******
****** ****** ******
while on mescaline
bit him on the neck & ear
& stabbed him a bunch.
****** ****** ******
said that a black crow
brought a message from satan
telling him to kill.
****** ****** ******
SAY YOU LOVE SATAN
instead his friend responded
i love my mother.
****** ****** ******
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
A THEME OF HAIKU FOR THE ETERNAL STRUGGLE OF GOOD VS. EVIL.
deep in the desert
sacrifices have been made
to better mankind.
***
there are some times when
ritual sacrifices
are necessary.
***
chrome plated pharohs
directly under the sun
deflecting his word.
***
impenetrable
& uncaring that he might see
what it is they've done.
***
men with hooded cloaks
& satan deep in their souls
stand in the shadows.
***
waiting for their turn
for their moment in the sun
to serve the darkness.
***
a flux of power
with the first swipe of the blade
i can taste the blood.
***
blackened disciples
fighting christian warriors
protecting our kind.
***
outside the circle
we're nothing but mere mortals
inside, we are gods.
***
sacrifices have been made
to better mankind.
***
there are some times when
ritual sacrifices
are necessary.
***
chrome plated pharohs
directly under the sun
deflecting his word.
***
impenetrable
& uncaring that he might see
what it is they've done.
***
men with hooded cloaks
& satan deep in their souls
stand in the shadows.
***
waiting for their turn
for their moment in the sun
to serve the darkness.
***
a flux of power
with the first swipe of the blade
i can taste the blood.
***
blackened disciples
fighting christian warriors
protecting our kind.
***
outside the circle
we're nothing but mere mortals
inside, we are gods.
***
Thursday, August 13, 2009
a few haiku & some music.
wherever i go
that is where i will end up
LONG LIVE FAKE DADA.
***
gold painted lemons
3 card monty huckster pricks
fuck a magician.
***
the sun is frozen
killing everything on earth
for the rest of time.
***
that is where i will end up
LONG LIVE FAKE DADA.
***
gold painted lemons
3 card monty huckster pricks
fuck a magician.
***
the sun is frozen
killing everything on earth
for the rest of time.
***
Saturday, August 1, 2009
VS. VERSES
drunk vs. sober
memphis, tennessee vs. nowhere
karaoke vs. hotel boredom
garth brooks vs. tom jones
george strait vs. roy orbison
the warm grinding crotch of an "outcast" vs.
the glowing karaoke video monitor
singer vs. audience
father vs. son
forced professionalism vs.
a nigga who straight up
don't give a fuck
with a possible
$4 million pay-off
i'd keep on
singin' & fightin'.
memphis, tennessee vs. nowhere
karaoke vs. hotel boredom
garth brooks vs. tom jones
george strait vs. roy orbison
the warm grinding crotch of an "outcast" vs.
the glowing karaoke video monitor
singer vs. audience
father vs. son
forced professionalism vs.
a nigga who straight up
don't give a fuck
with a possible
$4 million pay-off
i'd keep on
singin' & fightin'.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
DON'T MAKE ME PULL OUT MY STEEL.
**********
the old me
would have
reached to the heavens
grabbed handfuls of
lightning
& commenced to
fuckin' shit up
all proper like
but that didn't happen,
now did it?
the new & improved me
grabbed the push-broom
walked to the back isle
of the warehouse
& commenced to
sweepin' all proper like
while wiping tears of
anger & frustration
off my face.
**********
the old me
would have
reached to the heavens
grabbed handfuls of
lightning
& commenced to
fuckin' shit up
all proper like
but that didn't happen,
now did it?
the new & improved me
grabbed the push-broom
walked to the back isle
of the warehouse
& commenced to
sweepin' all proper like
while wiping tears of
anger & frustration
off my face.
**********
Friday, June 5, 2009
untitled #27
i can identify
with travis bickle's need
to say "fuck it"
give himself
a mohawk
& start carryin'
a pistol
some folks
need to hold
their hands
over the flame
sometimes
fucked up shit
like that
has to happen
you can't necessarily
depend on change
to always happen
on it's own
fucking will.
with travis bickle's need
to say "fuck it"
give himself
a mohawk
& start carryin'
a pistol
some folks
need to hold
their hands
over the flame
sometimes
fucked up shit
like that
has to happen
you can't necessarily
depend on change
to always happen
on it's own
fucking will.
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