Pa Pa PA POP. Flowgenomics.

everybody's talking like get up and go and im like get up and  grow motherfucker. grow to a stop and spit at a pig like that mother fucker never peeled back a wig in a moment of knowing who you are smfh who you aint.   knowing who's the canvas and who's the one to paint.  like every joys a toy you knew when you was just a boy and every coiled ploy is just another method to get back to better days.  like every day is another way to play the same games you played when you were just a kid and every time you fucked with them was just another straw man bid, been slid down the slide and now everything is live on the gun range, so strange to be down range these days in the haze but things get real, real fast, hold fast, and if it hurts then your not in the caste, not the first or the last but push up grass while you sleep at my feet because i will not be the last one standing, gun to my own head, asleep in a bed i did not make or remake or retake or reinvent like a bitch ass kiss from some seraphim heaven sent.  I will not let you detective film anti hero this shit and make me wish things were any different because my kingdom is my kingdom and ill cry whether you're live or your dead, i just have to come to grips with my body in my own bed.  and you living yours like the walking dead.

Human Interaction

Believe me when I don't say
I am approaching this with
serious trepidation.
Hesitate, please.
I am looking for an opportunity
to rouse the rest of me and
talk things over,
but the collection is time consuming,
I know,
but please give me the benefit of doubt
within myself, because, if I
screw up,
it will take longer for me to forgive myself
than it will take you
to upbraid me.

Cum

If Jesus came again
and turned the other cheek,
would he ever allow himself
to be raped?

More importantly,
did that happen
the first time and
not make it to record?

Winter Dissent

The season,
in and of himself,
is beautiful.  A thing of unequivocal
equality because everyone
suffers the same
for reasons they cannot control
and they all smile to you
because they know it is true,
though they do not know
it is your year around.

Have faith in man
because he will not admit he bleeds,
but he still will fall
face first, dancing,
on sidewalk ice,
the same as you.

He will still shiver
in the minutes before the heat settles and
he dreams of sleep
as hard as you do
some summer nights.

The season in and of itself
is miserable
by definition
and beautiful
by composition.

Have your tears in Winter and
the world will cry with you.
Have your loneliest years in Winter and
the world will be alone with you.
Write your letters in Winter and
every soul will be waiting to hear from you.
Start your fires in Winter and
I will be there, palms out,
gloves off, more ready to receive
the heat of no oneness
than I otherwise would ever be.

Questy

Yeah, we can get some.  Let's get some rock too.

What is rock?  Rhetorical question, but

I need to know

that we are on the same page.

Reading from the index.

See pages twenty four and forty eight

for context.

But, we just met, and you've already read me,

but I have not bothered to read you and

you have not offered.

See the index.

You are not helping.  Where are we?

A friend's place.

Why is it so dark?

That's how it always is.

I thought we were going to the gas station

to get money.

I know where you live, don't worry about it.

Why don't you ask me what I want to do?

Because you are a means to a way 

you don't know 

and the asking would 

ruin the slide.

I think I'm going to go now.

Do you know where you are?

No, but I will figure it out

by the time the sun is high again.

Well, it was nice to meet you.

Well, I wish I went home when the bar closed

because you are clearly

more happy to prey than I am to lie down

on the road side 

not gripping the tapestry

with the same hands you do

as it spins in the dirty two A.M. breeze

like a white washed body bag, goes the internal thought, continuing;

I might look your volume up 

on the shelves of human experience at some point,

but, for now, I hope you find your gem and

know that I am not the blue key to your RPG.  At least,

not today.  Keep the money,

I say,

you need it more than me,

I say.

Okay, beau, she says, pronouncing it "boo".

Nothing tugs in my heart, and I don't shrug or capitulate

as much as I sign my name emphatically

to the simple act of walking away

from another hell 

to which I do not need 

to offer joint citizenship to

again.