tomorrow will bring a bludgeoning of now. of right this moment that when i get up i wont know whether to take it or leave it.
i might suck some coffee down but for right now i want a turkey pastrami because it dont sound a bad as a beef.

for all you know in 6 months time you could be in total satisfaction. shitting on those motherfuckers who took the life out of you or for all i fucking care to all those who gave you nothing but a slate,,, a slate of regurgitated slander… or to them might seem like the most possible way to go.



take your butt in the front and lead it somewhere else. let it rythym in your pants and become another person inside of you. let it be a krang. let it be a master blaster. if you will let it destroy as many lives as you can while its being useless with all of your cokes and fat filled foods. you got a shit in your belly that might as well have a delivery date.




and a thirst for stolen meat makes your forehead sweat uncontrollably like i felt when i wanted arthur nersessians chinese takeout. i stuffed that shit so deep in my jeans and walked out like you did passing me with that look like you were caught.

last night was full of grease. and spit and shit and anything you could get your grubby little fingers on. thats not the matter though, the point is that these holes, worm holes if you will really lead nowhere. taking you down paths and places already visited. the pen ink dries and whats left? no pen no let loose and a whim already saved by god knows who.
the sunset caught my eye that night dreary and repress-ant. if you could just have taken it all and left what others left behind youd probably find yourself a rich man underneath covers writhing and wriggling on your waterbed unsure of your exact latitude and longitude but no one is counting and that happens to be you. the headboard with its grains and tiny foldable ninja turtles and years later… youll… find…. yourself…. in bed or on a couch with a coochie to call your own… and you wont know what to make of these tiny plastics that inhabit the crevasses when your not around to give diction. guess where youll be in 10 years or less and i bet youll be wrong. you wanna be in a hut? you wanna be in a reach around night gown giving nights the want to be someone? give me a hand?
times are supposedly tough right now and im supposed to be real scared and feared of the country but the only thing i can think of is how to get off this shit. is how i can crawl around it and make it something other than what it has already been or wanted to be or can be. \\\\
i hit walls coming up with explanations in the wee hours of the morning of how its how it always has been or if not for this than for that and well…. you know quantum physics is of no help except in theory. except in those desperate times when nothing goes my way and i can figure my way out of anything. there has got to be some sub atomic wave im not riding or some thing that i see while im not seeeeeing some deaf girl im not listening to...

The last time you took it out for a ride, what was i like * 8? i remember that shit like it was 19 years ago… especially the hot heat and fake uprooted grass upon my toes playing soccer and riding the air conditioning unit like it was a fucking space cube or floating protective agent against a variety of varying agents of harm. lava for one maybe a safe haven against uh attacking apes or maybe not apes but like a pedastal you know? shit was easier back then. back when we got drunk dancing around middle aged mexicans who were too drunk to notice that this 7 year old had just made a mix drink and was about to beat someone up wwf style and get hurt real serious. laying in bed with whats her name naomi. 12 years old in my parents car looking up at the stars making out with this 17 year old mexican immigrant with big breasts and a real strong itch to kiss. going up for air. laying in bed. she was kissing you then me and i just wanted to touch her boobs back then. i think i mistook your leg for hers and we rubbed feet for a while which in retrospect was pretty awkward. making burritos later staring at the ceiling fan for comfort. joining gangs and shit.

man: just take em outside to breath for a while…

woman: no. they are fish. they'll just grow legs and slander the neighbors heavy weighted daughters again. remember last time?

man: no. i spend half my nights naked among stars breathing rhythms. beating on my chest parts till i cant no longer remembers simple things like beating breakfast or taping up shims on motor stretches. its all one blur. one long blindingly bright blur that stretches. i feel like fucking the incredible hulk or dr jeckll… well wait thats worded wrong... i dont literally want to have intercourse with the aforementioned characters but am evoking the sense of utter despair in the word fucking… as to say i am fucking totally the incredible fucking spiderman of your deadbeat dad dreams.

woman: well i cooked you some breakfast the least you could do is soup it up and put some on your chins for later…

man: in due time woman, life is not about various wet breads and clammy cold sausages. theres more youll see. theres great big ass football fields and prairies with no end to infectious creatures all with signatures likes and dislikes. fears. objects that help them distinguish other objects from other ones in inventory. youll see. the future is here. right now. like right…. now….. and even right now… as i speak these very words theres a man on outerspace walking around maybe with some sunshades or something on somewheres. theres gotta be. and if there aint then theres one off in the keys or making out with some shady lady underneath a bush.

i want to sleep to be near you.
i want to crash out so that when i wake up im sure not to have that look in my eyes

all this limes and no no no.
i woke up asleep and found out that it doesnt matter
when or if you sleep what you say or choose to omit
because the the taste stays the same or changes depending on your mood.
no one else either.
theyll go on throwing their boxes without you
theyll drive by the highway to no end and leave your light by
and walk all over your grave to get to someone they know.
you can put your hand in it or take it out.
its all the same.

so punch someone in the goddamned face
kick some shit over and spray all your funny wobblies all over it.
because my hand wont move forever
and my lips cant speak for always.
but i have this right now
and i want to sleep it all away

they are fake liking roaming and foresting the hot homlets.
they are grinding their shakes till the cows come to weed.
they are looking for the next riding sausage on the plane they call home. and liking it.
today they will find their keys on the top side of the bed
and their whiskers as long as they are wide
while the day goes on into infinity shaking holes in the wall and beggin for some mores.

tossing and turning for hours on end to catch the last tail of sleep and missing. loads of dancing robot fucks and shitty corn on the cob men yesterdays conversations and taunting. everyone everything. its loads of nastiness and the past few days of dreary sleep nights keep me up. day and night confused. then panic sets in. waiting sets in tossing and turning. fuck sleep. i ate the shit.

commission

OLD

implant at bike life

addition

pasties

sammed

jammed

• 
  
  

helium

flight or fight

harmp

rommel