Uh-lay-knee

How much hip-hoo-yay before you bore a hole between the membrane & soft tissues? How many, fucked up situations must you compulsively, & continuously put yourself through? Is it worth it just, fucking up friendships makin new friends that are into that type of shit just drawing in energies and playing with people Daemon shit learn from it

How much weight can a bridge take before it buckles, crushing rivers like broken hearts home is the trail home is where you fall down at night in the morning whatever. if I didn't sweat so much I'd sleep out side in July, but I do, so i don't. Just be nice. Try not to worry. Bigger picture, you made that fuckers night. scared some kids, but, better you than Red Rats out to Get 'em! Nothing else to be frightened by but, fuckers still dying Hit me, Fuck it attitude they won't.

I wish I'd spent more money. that's what i'll think as i die. laying, sitting, maybe, gasping for air who cares how i die? it's what happens before and after. it won't matter how i'm dying, i'll thing; "I should have gotten more paid more money, paper to the people i care about if i'd known i would be sittin' here, dying i would have gotten more tattoos my mother hated.

I thought this would make me happier, but now I'm just feeling, again. I guess that's better Whatever, Forever. I can't say I don't miss the shit I know The folks I knew How the fuck do people do it, here? I told a kid I'd stab him if he stole my board. never heard shit like that, before. I need the wage I'm getting, the sun, the space, collection of faces. Too soft for Boston Too hard for the Midwest. What the Fuck is left?

Keep it neat keep it neat Loving with you feels like defeat! and my feet, my feet! Bleeding, burning, reeking of hard work, hard steps, concepts they seem so un- familiar with Give 'em Hell! Give 'em Hell! they cant even tell

Now, whether they like it or not, these folks were all stuck, together. for the time being, at least. lumped in for lack of understanding they all had a sneaky little feeling that the only way to come out on top, was to hoist each other up. but these cowboys were weary from all that liftin', takin' cautionary steps towards greatness. we all must be afraid of bein' late to our passions. put stride in yer steps.

Sometime's the just wanna fuck but that's never been enough for you. you've started telling 'em the truth. Broken teeth, it's all the shit, underneath. and, how dare they, how dare they!! assume they know what you mean, but they're not listening to what you're saying, it's insanity, but it's me. it must be. 2019, edited 2020

Oh! to be inhabited by this drink, these drugs, intoxicated but feeling nothing. Three sheets to the wind, three more in the bin, more like. who wins here? is there a loser? does any of it matter? Apathy. Struggling. Shivering. Crumbling. Something big coming. ^^^my idea of a promotional campaign^^^

they're all so trusting here making it feel kind of disgusting here, when you come direct, from home. I could have never known that shit, going in. but, it's all ola kala. we can fend for ourselves, now. wouldn't have wanted the alternative either. i choose neither, now. it's fine. blue line at state towards WONDERLAND first of the poems from 20202020 edited

    Gifts from the Gods Dirty ol' sods How dare they How dare They Don't let yourself be scared away, by thoughts of tenderness. good intent fools intentions That's all that's left is True intentions. Lies make no Difference to  (                    )        ("God") Dirty old bastards. no date on this one but presumably late 2019 This poem is something I now feel like helped me through something I couldn't even identify. I skate around a lot at night playing jazzy rap music through the bluetooth speaker in my backpack and scream bits of my poetry over it to try and sort out the intention and the breakdown of the wordplay.  I fucking hate drunk drivers, stop trying to kill me. I type everything out on a Smith-Corona memory correct typewriter I got for $12 from the goodwill down the street on my 21st birthday & edit & retype from there. sometimes I'll just cut out lin...