Here Lies...

Tombstones.

They're everywhere.

Most
unmarked.

That's unfortunate,
I guess.

What's the purpose
of one,
anyways?

To keep our
family
and friends
in mourning?

Sure,
whatever you like.

Since I might have one,
I prefer to have some
writing on it.

"Mourn for me,
if
you want
to lose
your testicles
or have your tits
shrivel away
into thin air.

May I rest
in peace."

Harsh?

Not at all.

Don't cry.

Pass it on.

Listen Carefully

Her mother

talks

to her 

every single day.

She doesn't notice.

She hasn't 

been listening.

She's consumed

with what's wrong

with her life,

with this world.

Wild Horses

drifts 

through the air.

It was her mother's 

and father's song.

It still haunts her.

It reminds her

of their last 

breath.

She heard it again

today.

Wild Horses

couldn't drag me

away.

It was a message

from mother

to daughter.

Reminding her,

nothing

could keep her

away.

Not even 

death.

One day,

when she stops looking,

and starts listening,

she'll finally know

she's never

been alone. 

A Glass of Water, Please

The world's on
heroin.

The earth's collapsing
in
on itself.

The sky's cracking
down
on us.

We're still here.

Alive and playing.

Enjoying our
final moments.

Drinking our
last glass
of fresh
water.

A Reminder

He saw her.

A black ball of
ghostly hair.

Running around,
giving everyone
goosebumps.

She was born here.

She died here.

She's still here.

I can hear her
between
the silence.

Encouraging me
to play
and enjoy the sun.

The way she always did.

Even when
my grandfather
smacked her
and called her names.

None of that mattered.

Then or now.

Tough love
is still
love.

So much love
she'll never
go away.

My Plan

He had a brain tumor.

We didn't notice it
at first,
because he wore
a hat
and was completely
wasted.

He was offering
everybody drinks.

This guy was stumbling
and slurring
all over the bar.

He even tipped
the bartender
in weed.

The tender graciously accepted.

Then,
his hat came
off.

There was a
huge
lump
on his head.

He said,
I have a tumor.

Everyone stood
in shock.

We didn't know
what
was real anymore.

I have to be honest,
it was a buzzkill.

But he didn't give
a hot shit,
he just kept on slurring
and repeating himself.

It was a sign
to us all
that no matter how shitty
we have it,
we can still
have a fucking good time.

This is
what I plan to do
now.

What's holding you
back?

Curious Faces

When dealing with the public,
one sees
many faces.

One can't tell
whether or not
those faces have
molested or
raped or
praised Scientology,
but some can
pick up on those vibes,
worlds away.

For instance,
my coworker
had a
funny
feeling
about this gentlemen.

He stocked the shelves
and had a smile
on his face
all day long.

Something was hiding
beneath that smile.

My coworker could just
feel
it.

Sure enough,
a few months later,
he was arrested
for child porn
or something
along those lines.

Hard to judge that one.

But then again,
they're faces
that look like
the faces
of murderers,
yet that couldn't be further
from the fact that
they are
the most sincere
and appreciative customers
and have done
only a minimal amount
of damage
to this world.

Far
less
than
me.

In fact,
they must think
I do
horrendous
acts
in the comfort
of my own home.

Wouldn't they
like to know??

Clean Slate

New places
are almost always
nice
and pleasant.

There's no history
that I'm
aware of.

The place
might as well have been
built
right before
I got there.

Of course,
it wasn't.

The feeling
is still
the same.

Or rather,
the lack
of them
altogether.

There's no dread
or worrying about
whether or not
I'll see a person
I've just screwed over
or denied their
request for love.

Clean slate.

Now,
there's plenty of time
to fuck up
all over again.

There's almost
no
better feeling
and almost
no better place
to be.