pieces somehow pertaining to ze muzique.

it's...

it's...

it's like cumming
to the tune of
acid mothers temple

***
downtown julie brown
wubba wubba wubba shits
on club mtv
***

NONSENSE.

so this fast-talkin'
middle aged black guy
comes into my store

says hi & a few
unintelligible things

then picks up a 45 single
off the display rack & asks
"excuse me...sir...
what is this?...is this music?
what is it?"

i say
"yes, it's music. it's a 45"

"what kind?" he asks

"well...it's a band from japan
called boris"

real quick like he asks if i
have any vietnamese music

so i pull out the only other
record i have that's asian

ol' boy stares at it for a second,
& proceeds to tell me that
it's not vietnamese,
that he's not sure what it is but
"it ain't vietnamese"

umm...yeah. the original chopped & screwed.

dying batteries
in a sony walkman
cassette player

but, that's what i had
& i wasn't about to stop
listenin' to
metallica's "ride the lightning"

untitled nothin'.

the introduction to
"black sabbath"
by black sabbath
almost didn't seem real
until i wiped
a few drops of water
off of my glasses.

untitled somethin' or other.

when i worked at
walgreen's drug store in
ft. worth, texas
i had a saying that
went somethin' like

"i gotta wear a tie
to work the register?
shit, i didn't even
wear a tie at
my wedding"

DEDICATED TO COLONEL KURTZ.

trees melted
due to a
white hot blast
of heat

all ze critters
transformed instantaneously
into vittles
& vaporized
at the same
break neck speed
[imagine, if you will, slayer's "angel of death"
crammed into the blink of an eye,
& now you wear a patch like a pirate]

what few people remained,
never had body hair again

memories faded because
there was nothing left
to make you remember the past

"everyday people" by
sly & the family stone
would never come out from
a stereo speaker again

credit scores
no longer mattered

nothing did.

JOHN WHITESIDE PARSONS WOULD BE PROUD.

space age euphoria

chromed-out erections
disguised as rocketships
buzzing around mother nature's
black holes

busting through
the hymen of
hawking's nonsense
about this & that
[theoretical will never be tangible,
therefore unfuckable]

intergalactic spacial 'relations'
with entire universes

tied up with
orion's belt,
sputnik flying everywhere,
as the hubble
films ze big bang.

ahhh shit......

much like gg allin
i keep a ready
supply of
milk of magnesia
on hand most of the time

it helps
exorcise
all the nonsense
that i willingly
& unwillingly
take in
throughout the day

this or that
does or doesn't

sip or chug?

but unlike gg,
i hold onto
my shit for awhile

with an adult diaper
strapped to my person,
collecting every little movement,
i sit in the stink for days,
starting the process over
every so often.

untitled.

rhythmic ceremonial rituals

making shit happen

in all kindsa forms & fashions

for thousands of yrs.

none title.

i was born
an original gangster

actually,
it started before then

fuck
amniotic
fluid

we be drankin' CRISTAL
up in this v.i.p. suite
made for one

she'd play mozart
like the book said to,
i'd kick the bitch
in the ribs &
scream for her to throw on
marvin gaye's greatest hits,
she pretended to not hear me,
but i know that shit had to hurt

doctors didn't even hafta
cut the umbilical cord,
shit was so covered in ice
that it just froze
the fuck off

first day on this earth
i tore that pussy up
sucked on them titties,
& had bitches wipin' my ass...

it's called game nigga,
get some.

dunno.

fuck you tron
& all yr neon bullshit
that does nothin'
but hurt my eyes
& look stupid

neon is not futuristic

chrome,

now that's futuristic.

UNTITLED SHOWER NOTHIN' *** aka BIRDLAND IN THE BATHROOM *** aka SUN RA IN THE SHITTER

i pressed play
on the music makin' thingy
& got in the shower

after havin' about
5 minutes worth of
sympathy for the devil,
i got out

it was at this time
i came to fully realize
i would never make it
in the military

2 minute shower
is a quality i do not
wish to possess

so, come next shower time
i said fuck it
& pressed play on some
18 minute long free jazz bullshits

then commenced to
scrubbin' my filthy body
like the spastic space monkey
that i am.

gg allin + roast beef sammich = no bueno

i had seen it a
handful of times
i knew what
was gonna happen
but when the part
came where that girl
peed in his mouth
'cuz that's what gg
requested for his birthday
i realized how salty the
roast beef sandwich that
i was eating was &
proceeded to throw it
the fuck up
real quick like
in the bathroom.

an untitled poem.

i wish that i had
a decent explanation
as to why the song
"whiskey bent & hell bound"
as sung by hank jr.
makes my eyes well up
like a little fuckin' girl
who just dropped her
precious little ice cream cone
in the dirt

but i sure
as shit don't
now do i?

no, i don't.

**untitled bullshits**

what i would give
to see a
beautiful
public bathroom

one where
the tiles would
make you weep
like a little girl
who just dropped
her little dolly
in the mud,
but happy
& with a smile,
thus making you
shove "li'l susie"
face first into
any & every
pile of mudslop you see
from here on out
just to make yrself
feel right

one that is the
polar fuckin' opposite
of the bathroom
at whatever the fuck
rest-stop it was
that i stopped & rested at
while on the run
& speedin' thru oklahoma
that reeked of
piss, groans, & despair

one that you could
feel proud of usin'
while takin' a hobo bath,
so proud
that you could feel
almost... elegant

i want to go
for the golden
toilet seat,
i think
i can
do it

i need to see
fuckin' bullshit rembrandt's
hangin' on the wall
while i take that
mornin' piss
& my head is
still all warm & fuzzy & caring

who gives a fuck
about economics, politics,
sitcoms, frozen pizzas,
the murder rate, or cancer?

REALLY

WHO GIVES A FUCK?

we deserve
rocket-powered streams
of hot water
shooting directly into
our assholes
while some nameless unknown
stands next to
the sink
& hands us things
such as a
600 thread count
egyptian cotton
hand towel,
a jewel encrusted comb,
maybe even a
breath mint

what i'm sayin' is
GIVE US WHAT
WE FUCKIN' NEED
& DESERVE.

untitled stupids.

god's only sun

is peeking through

my kitchen window

watching me burn

the flesh of animal

while the sounds of

black metal fill the room.

GOD DAMN SON.

as we sat there
mindin' our own
some sort of walkin' talkin' street urchin
walks up, kneels before us,
makes false accusations of
us bein' hippies (he claimed "you can't hide it"),
then starts tellin' us this story
of a bear chasin'em through the
piney woods of nowhere &
him havin' to do the ol' zorro routine
with his fishin' pole to fight off the bear
(which apparently worked since he's here tellin' us his story & still has all parts of his body, minus the brain)
well, the chase somehow led to
him findin' these big ol' mushrooms
that he believed would allow you to
see the face of your creator
these things were fuckin' huge
(maybe as big around as the back tire to a tricycle & about as thick as my hand stacked on top of my other hand)
& were only gonna cost me 5 bucks each
not bad if they was the real deal, but
we declined his offer of
black death 'shrooms
at affordable discount prices
& away he went
but bein' the walkin' talkin' street urchin' he is,
he came right back up to us
& asked if he could purchase
a cigarette from one of us
for somethin' like 15 cents.

god damn.




lurve,
FAKE DADA

thingy.

waves of sun
pour through the room
vaporizing everything
that dare stand
in it's righteous path
thus creating a
thick haze of
blackened smoke
blocking out
all that is impure.

random poems.

all in part of the game of chance

i don't blame
stagger lee
one fuckin' bit,
stetson hats
are somethin'
to be proud of.

***

i hate
getting wet

yet i will
never own an
umbrella

i find them...
pretentious &
unnecessary.

***

i done stuck my dick in the meatloaf.

*********************
i'm glowin' like the
metal on the
edge of a knife
& god only knows
what i can do
i'm prayin' for
the end of time
we're gonna go
all the way tonight
it's never felt so good
it's never felt so right
ain't no doubt about it
i can see paradise.

**********************