bluecityveins

a free ride inside my diseased mind.

Archive for the month “February, 2012”

eternal super glue


eternal super glue

half of the time is spent looking for the pen,
and the rest is for searching for the paper.
words?
well they just write themselves.
isn’t there a shirt in this world that fits.
they all seem to itch
and have some weird static cling.
searching for my self in movies and history books
i think i ran in to him yesterday,
or was that me?
tuna and cat fish have devoured my apartment
what is this beast,
and when will it truly be released.
its more confused every day
and that’s why
i build my web
a mish mash of perversities, and organic space trash
a note floating down from zardac 2
a planet made up of
granite, and soiled mattresses.
awake in this rape, to face the day
broken fingers,
held together by eternal super glue.

you can purchase a signed 8.5×11 print  of  “eternal super glue for$24.00


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some humanity, please?

some humanity, please?

some sort of subterranean human dipped in an atmosphere bath
consisting equal parts chlorine
and upholstery cleaner
you know that breed of human
the ones with that fresh car scent
they will wrap a plastic bag inside another plastic bag
and then
ask for another
just for good measure
cant escape the mind rape
being nice just doesn’t cut the ham any more
we need another
sharper knife
too carve this sick life
biting my lip
and squeezing its tits,
shove some fingers in the holes
try and get this sick job over with
sleeves rolled up
in there
up to my elbows
feel like a porn star plumber
some sort of  pity fuck
feel controlled
have no choice
told it
“here is my bizniss card”
now
stick it in the hole!

decafatated

 decafatated

the letter sense of amusement
this is it.
the real thing.
the wild west.
show me your sundays best.
the cactus fights
spaghetti
sex girls in the windy city.
lego pock marked marks
tuck you stomach in sir
the reminder
the pocket comb-over
double -over
we call
rover
over
the late afternoons
the fall
playing after school football
with a teacher with one arm
he has a beard
his breathe smells like an old ashtray
oranges, and eggs.
he still has both of his legs
the school bell
it is the never ending pillow fight
from hell.

cement

cement

laying on a  pillow
eyes closed
the voices are deep
the voices seep in.
the rain season.
steaming brazil,
and a canopy of wilderness.
misty rivers curve carvings into the land
chasing its streaming tail.

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