Listen to This

The dead
can hear our
thoughts.

They hear our prayers
and when we
talk to them
and say
we miss them.

This is true.

And since,
this is true,
I wonder,
what else
can they hear?

I've had some
fucked up thoughts,
some,
I have no
control over.

I can't help it.

These things just
come up
out of nowhere,
for no reason at all.

Can other's dead relatives
hear
when I cuss out
their children
and tell them to eat
garbage bags
full of shit?

Will they
use their
ghostly powers
to ruin my day
for talking shit?

Are they capable
of this?

Or am I
simply
going crazy?

The Beginning

I have worms
inside me.

Hell, we all do.

Some growing
as long as
50 feet,
and as many as
20 pounds worth,
sucking the life
out of us.

This is considered
normal
for the average
american.

Except, mine,
their inspired.

They make me dream.

In these dreams,
I'm famished,
starving for flesh.

Human flesh.

When I wake up,
I'm afraid
I'll still have
these same
cravings.

One day,
I'll be awoken
by the sounds
of my own jaws
gnawing
on my better half,
her tits
in my stomach,
and her stomach
in my mouth.

But,
this is not
my fault.

I am no cannibal.

Nor am I even a woman beater.

It's the result
of a carefully planned agenda
of the government
and the food companies.

They have been
knowingly
poisoning us
with genetically modified foods
and a daily basis
for years on end.

It's them,
who secretly
want to turn
the entire population
into zombies.

IT IS
the goddamned truth.

Don't believe me?

Aren't you hungry
for your sister's
lips?

No Winners

After a long night
of heavy drinking,
it's best advised
not
to chug wine
and proceed to
spill your guts out
on the couch.

Or so,
my lover says.

The cats too,
I suppose.

In either case,
there are precisely
zero winners
and the losers
are now covered in
what could only be called
shame.

The Second

I had
no idea
how thankful
I would be
to see
my own blood
in the sink.

Normally,
I'd be concerned
because my teeth
would feel
like they are
rotting.

Tonight,
however,
it's such a blessing.

My own blood
from my own gums
is a blessing.

The mirror even
smiles back
at the sight.

It may be
hard
for most
to fathom,
but this
is all I have,
especially after a second
dui.

The New Whipping

The best sex
I've ever had
was when
I was closest
to God.

We happened to be
in his bathroom.

He was watching us
through the window.

He rang the mission bells
to signal
to the world
that love
could be made
anywhere.

Even right
in His own
toilet.

I thought I could hear
the residual sounds
of the mission.

The whipping
of innocent
brown women and children,
who didn't know
about Him.

But then,
I realized
it was the moans
from our love making
banishing out
the ghosts
of the past.

One Fine Day

The definition for
insanity,
according to the Chinese,
is:
doing the same things
over and over,
expecting
different results.

I see this
everywhere.

People digging
deeper
and deeper
into the same hole
all of their lives.

There's no chance
of climbing out.

I can feel it
on their skin.

I can hear it
in their voices.

I can smell it,
even before
they've entered
the room.

Insanity
eating
away.

It's true,
we are
creatures of habit.

But this is
too much
to witness
everyday.

I've got to stop
looking at others
and go out
into the woods
or under some forgotten bridge
and stare
at nothing.

Nothing
doesn't mind
changing.

I can only
hope
to follow
its lead.

Starting Over

I've known
a few
unsuspecting folks
who've been involved in
the most impossible
of circumstances.

Some
might have killed
another,
while driving home,
after a perfect
drunken night.

Some
might have gotten
caught up
in the most blissful
of binges
with their soulmate.

Some
might have decided
to let out
all of their frustrations
on all the wrong people.

The list
goes on
and on.

We all
have out intentions,
most
if not
all of them,
are pure.

Still, shit happens.

We end up
hurting those
we love the most.

We end up
so far
from our dreams
it's impossible
to sleep.

Still, somehow,
we must manage
to forgive ourselves
and move on.

Knowing our flaws,
yet forgetting them,
and getting
right back
on our feet.

Right back
to our dreams.

Right back
to the beginning
of hope.

Home

It's unnerving
for me to listen
to anyone
at all anymore.

All of their lives
they've stumbled about
accepting anything
that gets planted
in their
malleable minds.

Never
do they question
their so called
beliefs
or double check
so called facts,
handed down to them
by religion,
by mass media,
by their parents,
or just by plain heresay.

As a result
of their blind faith,
I've made it my mission
to destroy their beliefs,
to defy
what they've known as
truth,
and be and do
those things
they thought
wrong
or impossible.

And despite their
evidence,
despite their
warning,
I have yet
to go insane,
I have yet
to perish,
I have not even
fallen ill,
nor have I taken
any
of their
medication.

I have only
gone deaf
to their
echoing, unnatural
voices.

I stand here
a contradiction
of society.

I want to know,
where is it
exactly
you are?

Have you
purged yourself
of the radiation and poison
you've been
force fed
all your life?

Have you revealed
the deranged and delightful
freak
inside you?

Your soul?

And looked
deep
within
that endless abyss of love?

Because
that, my friend,
is the light
at the end
of the tomb
you've been suffocating in
since birth.

That
is where
your home is.

That
is the only place
where truth
resides.

One Simple Request

What do
murderers do
when they do
nothing?

Do they ever
do
nothing?

Maybe that's why
they started
killing?

Maybe I should start
doing nothing
more often.

Maybe you should too.

Matter of fact,
I think
the whole world
should do
a whole lot of
nothing.

Don't say anything,
don't think anything,
don't do anything,
just
for one second
admire
your
life.

The Regular

The first place I
would travel to
when I croak
is the bar.

I'd plant myself
on a stool
at 6 am
and stay
till the end of
eternity.

Time
would mean
nothing
to me.

Neither would money.

I guess,
booze too.

I'd just sit there
and soak up
everybody's
last bit
of energy,
until I had enough
to manifest
right before
their blood shot eyes,
behind the bar,
naked,
with my balls
cooling
on the limes
and the tap
of the finest beer
right in
my butt cheeks.

Fellas,
this round's
on me.

The Most Beautiful Creature on Earth

I love animals,
especially my pets,
both past and present.

They have been
through it ALL
with me.

From the worst
of times,
to the best.

One such memory
snuck up on me
today.

My mother
came home one day
after work
and decided
to get it
over with.

She selected
the perfect knife
and the perfect spot.

Right
on the kitchen floor,
she began
to slice.

Cut by cut,
she tried
to end
her life.

Curious
as to what
she was doing,
our dogs
began
to surround her.

Jet, our lab,
began licking
her face,
giving her love
at the lowest
moment
of her life.

He didn't judge,
nor did he try
and stop her.

He just
licked.

Eventually,
she gave up
and with slober
on her face,
she called
her sister
for help.

She was saved,

By our dog.

The most beautiful
creature
on Earth.

Jelly Beans

Everybody
has their
quirks.

If you don't,
I suggest
you get some.

Multiple,
to be exact.

They are,
if you didn't know,
what makes
a person
interesting.

Normal.

Perfect?

Boring.

Lose a leg.

st st st start
stuttering.

Don't bathe.

Go into a store
and stare
at jelly beans
for hours
on end.

Till the owners
call the mental
health department
to take you
away.

Put these
quirks
into
your daily practice
and watch
as the madness
drips
away.

It's easy.

You'll never
have to worry
about anything
else
again.

Except for,
of course,
jelly beans.