Smoker 62

I know we stopped
a long time ago.
Scraping taste buds
to remove goo.
Please, let's not do
an entire pack
in one evening
regardless
of how manic
we are.

Silencer

Five hundred caliber.

Minister.

A preacher.

A reacher to end all things in a blink.

End all blood red vomit in a sink.

You and I we think.

Or maybe we stink.

Like dead bones dug up from ages ago.

Living bones are love from a time we cannot remember.

We remember most of everything.

Everything being a blanket over nose.

And mouth. How the is a construct to help us go.

Self conscious for a year and smeared.

Smeared lives.  How many times do I have to die before

I learn.

Get tired of waking up.  Don't we get tired of waking

anew.  Everything bleeds, sir!  Can you walk?

It doesn't rhyme.  Die or due to die or sky walk

backwards, strewn body parts and a head said

headset scripts are reserved for the deadset

skipset skip around everything exists at once

all the time every time dinner time kill every one

kill everything when you're born in a hell bear everything

every sound every taste every touch every beam of light

kill everything hurts.

Snort aloud.  Did that come out of my mouth?

Or did it come of out of my nose?

Everything hurts.

We were simple then.

Broken

bird

wings

gaudy

and 'purdy.  Some flash if the sun shone right.

Some photos to take if there was good moonlight.

Black grease and cages. Fences and contained rages.

Never leave home without a hawk is still rule.

Thirty three and still no actual tool.

Except the one I've honed.

Honed to protect a traveling home.

Snort laughter.

A bastard. Fantasize about deer slugs ending everything

that embodied what fear was

thelastthoughtyouhadworthhavingIhadanightmareaboutmydadand

I swear every day I want to kill him

with an antiaircraft weapon

shoot through the walls because if I step in

I'll walk right into his arms and he'll son me

the way he did for too many eras

and I will never make that mistake again.

Where his life ends my world begins.

Is the falsum I tell myself

to feel my time on this earth is worth its wealth.

I get tired of dreaming, screaming awake

like my 500,000 horsepower engines have a date with fate.

They don't.  I want to break the silence.

Take the forms to where they live.

Take the forms to where they build.

Talk is cheap, the market is.

Claps claps clapsclapsclapsclapsclapsclapsclaps.

The fires of rage do not have fences.

Chain links.  Fingers poke through, without rails, we speak.

Pain does not have boundaries.

Your worst self may be the best in the foundries.

I don't know where you're from.

I don't know who sent you.

What I know is I have been numb.

Numb for too long. A hip bone with no femur to tongue.

Getting our body together

300,000 days at the river.

Maybe not that long.

Time stops living life as a

NAN

Oh Quitter

Easy to sound
away tolls of loss,
flesh and soul,
to causes dear
with comforts all around
the storm battered
bluffs below the
jagged cliff's edge
scaled to a clap on the back
and a smile;
no more, no less.

Easy to shout
into sea frothed winds
the sacrifices
willing to blow
to reach the shores
across that deep
green black hungry chasm
with a friend beside
who knows
you cannot swim.

Easy to cry
until eyes bleed and teeth
crack clenched
over joining hells in which
so many have died
when your address
is not and
never was
on the invitation list.

Where was the passion,
the fly or fall dead trying,
the bluster and belly fire
when the time came to pass
to make up your mind
and you wilted and turned away?
Will it be there,
this bloodied sword struck to lightning charged air,
when the time comes to choose again?
Will this violent defense of life
vanish overnight or, easier, remain
silent and blind
until its moment, its chance, evaporates?

Double Blind

The most sensitive tend to be
the chin outs guts sleaved two sawed-offs for hands,
named Dance and Whitney,
folk.

Confidence never rides quietly.
Silence is thunderous.

A screaming argument in the middle of the street
while the moon mediates with its hand on its chin:
"state your case."

Paranoia, purranoya, don't you know me by now?
Lived through and with interpretations of happened.
When it shows up in a television show
or a movie or a song or anything
once removed

digestible.

When it shows up in a human damaged clearly,
off what is considered normal for reasons easy,

endearing.

The oft used trap and trick doors and veiled paper bags
inside of paper bags to make what is on a mind passable
is not my gas and to reclaim that fuel would be nice
to warm palms against a fire that is not hackneyed
thirteen ways to hell (I'm pretty sure, check the bus schedule).

Honest and top of the morning.  Always confuzzled. 
Shear a nose to save the face; I don't have the stomach for surgery.
Halloween comes once a year.

In the Superman movie with Christopher Reeve... Zod and his crew should be
approaching Neptunes orbit by now, assuming that weird glass had the same velocity
back then.  I have not run the numbers.  I am fairly sure
they are still in Sol's neighborhood, farting around
and playing their 3000th game of cards.

Twenty years from now
I will not understand
how a body can judge itself harshly enough to see
every piece of information incoming as a judgement on its is.
Then again

I am not they.

Can you play
dice games in
zero gravity?

Rearing

Having a bad word to say
about a two-year-old
does not mean
nutrition facts
are all that I see when
it laughs in my face
after I've growled
"for the last time"
the first time
and the clock hasn't gone
beyond eight.

Lens

I haven't been able to remove myself from my work.
Haw haw.  Is that how people laugh these days?  I
tend to cackle still.  I'm not sure when that started.
It is an abrasive laughter, to be sure.  A sort of demonstrative,
so to speak.
Thinking backward through the years, it is organic.
Has it use?  No.  Absolutely no.  Formed (shall we
dive) in the crucible of gifting courtesies to fit in.
There did cum a time to change because gray areas
had to be clarified.  A courtesy laugh was a curtsy.
A belly laugh was a howl.  My father made jokes.
Cheap jokes.
He had a few dozen recycled ones and a few
that were spurred by the moment of our conversation.
If I had a nickel, I would be fifty dollars richer.
I would destroy him in a battle of construction.     

Easily.

I haven't been able to remove myself from my work.

The remove has not been writer's block

or any myths like it.  Effort to effect

change is pain filled.  I miss flow.

I continue to tell myself, while

dying and hoping for a chance

to pull a trigger with no

repercussions, we will

get back to it.

Patience with

yourself

is key.

Lover's Spree

Sniffles.
Sniffles.
Addicts, we.
Six years older.
"So that's okay?"
I'm pretty sure it is.
The constructs be as they
Heart torn out and shown to me.
Cadence and glory and don't you dare
tell me what I needs.  "Can I be with you?"
A fresh razor is always fresh.  Tucked penis.
Remember the day I picked up a body
while it cried on a stoop five blocks
away from where it was supposed
to be and I shouted into a phone?
Circle the block and gasoline.
Fury and smoke and petty.
A show for the students
going to school in the
afternoon in Spring.
Wanting is flaw.
I love your's.
Do you
love my
own?