All my dead friends, three deep to the bar.
It'd be so easy to be where they are.
But I'm pulling pints; lining up picklebacks.
I scratch through the tax stamps on each Evan that's cashed.
All my friends are sweet. They're dying to see me.
Read MoreDon’t give me a pet. I’ll kill it.
Don’t give me a pet. I’ll kill it.
I’ll kill it by accident. An accident of...
An accident of inattention.
I’ll soak up the faces of a thousand strangers.
For all the hours days have I’ll soak up their faces.
And their shoes. I like watching shoes.
Read MoreIf my heart pumps blood through my veins…
If my eyes turn light into sight…
If it still hurts, touching the oven at work…
Why do I feel dead?
Everything twitches that should.
All of my reflexes flex.
Like I still crane my neck when I light cigarettes.
I’m worried that you’re nearby and you’ll see.
Read MoreI could have moved to Berlin.
Oh well, here I am.
I could have learned the language.
Oh well, here I am.
I guess that leather ball gag is not for me.
I could have been swinging up there easily.
I could have been looking down from the ceiling.
Fish hooks through my back like it ain’t no thing.
Like my body was meant for me.
Read MoreWhat happens when The Lights turn off?
What happens when you die?
When you flip the record to the other side?
When you slip through the Universal drain?
When you learn Death’s first name?
What happens when The Lights cut on?
What happens when you’re born?
What is learning for?
Where are we headed towards?
Is anyone keeping score?
Read MoreI don’t want to kill Trump. Just want to see him dead.
I don’t want to kill Trump. Just want to kill his friends.
I wish that Cool Hand Luke would descend from the clouds
In a cast iron time machine.
He’d light an unfiltered cigarette, look me in the eye,
And scream, “are you not seeing what I’m seeing?
Read MoreGod bless the bureaucrats
The suits one step back
From the arc of the spotlight’s powerful sweep
God act like rebar
And steel the taupe backbones
Of career bureaucrats; nourish them please.
Read More