Lino.

Self-maddening perpetual pep talk
Who could drink these thoughts & walk straight?
Innumerable amounts squeeze through
The infinitesimal feed
I catch but two or three
Hold them for a moment –
No good.
I send them back from whence they came.
Hungover sentience prepares
A worthy meal
Warm buttered consciousness
Evenly spread over crispy, toasted mind
Inevitably thrown golden side down
Onto malting carpet
I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity.
Perhaps if self-sabotage was a
Paid occupation
I wouldn’t have so much time
On my hands.
Less on my mind.
& something in my pockets.
Perhaps for now
I’ll replace my carpet with
Lino.

 

Room.

Schizophrenic crosstown traffic
walls littered with
well dressed insects
religious figures and
chinaman
LSD
forest
ocean
hell.
birds forever grounded
atop two-dimensional
recycled trees.
carcinogenic incense
visibility low.
A coin jar
A tear jar
An empty jar
An empty man
combine the first
two
with the
third
so the fourth
can better understand
itself.
saxophone ghost
glockenspiel preacher
percussion vanguard
spiritual impotence
a dying king
a motherless prince
a penniless peasant
an ownerless dog
and me.

 

Sheriff Toad.

You thought you were all that
Struttin’ your stuff
Like some

Self-appointed hero
The messiah

Sheriff of this shit-hole town
Full of fuckin’ nobodies
Flashin’ your shiny badge
You floppy hatted cunt.
Oh you rambled on about
This & that
I wasn’t listening
I was completely focused
On your terrible moustache
& the way it rode your lip
When you spoke
Like some kind of nightmarish
Pubic rodeo.
Those ears you had
Dangling off the side
Of your boxed head
Clearly didn’t work
& should have been
Folded over
& stapled to your eyes
Because you
Saw & heard nothing
But your own
Self-righteous
Verbal faecal fest
Accompanied by
A chimp like
Interpretive dance.
You truly are a
Deplorable,
Cerebrally
Redundant toad
Please hop along
Go play on the road
& stop
Croakin at me.

 

Human Condition.

Cruelly condemned to
contemplate the
human condition
constantly
concerned
by callous
calculated
universal criticism
final judgment
passed by
cannibalistic cosmic
council
who’s sole
purpose is to
discontinue
my continuous
existence.
Consistently
plagued by
complimentary
close call reality
checks
courtesy of
colossal
corporate
cunts.

 

Cafe Zoom.

Cafe rhetoric with
lawyers & lumberjacks
together felling all who
penetrate the skyline
of law.
There are rules
for a reason
lawyer spits
his suit calmly reassures me
I wont be morally audited.
Lumberjack however
sniffs at me suspiciously

“you’re getting tall and you’re getting old
it wont be long now”

Axe in hand, brain in box
mouth wide open
hyperventilating at the thought
of the swing.
Sister shroud wanders in
religious soda pop in hand
inebriated throws holy water
at lawyer who instantly slumps
to viscous puddle swamping
lumberjacks boots.
Suit swiftly makes waves
at a steady pace
lawyer yelps
no recognition
with suit gone no body
to listen.

 

 

 

 

SLIPPERY SLOPE.

Streamlined existence
Convenience is of utmost importance
Find your lover online.
Attention span non-existent
Expectations growing ever higher
What’s mine is mine
What’s yours is mine
Illiterate, porridge brained narcissists
Total collapse of culture
Self-conscious invalids, putty in the hands of
Clever advertising
Human interaction redundant
Pure pleasure monkeys grinning
Facebook Facefucks us all
I must be acknowledged
I must be respected
I must be envied
Like my post
Like my picture
Live my life
So I don’t have to.
Obsessed with reflection
Stripped of identity
One collective unconscious
Simon says
No privacy
No freedom
No future.
It’s a slippery slope
&
You’re greased up
Ready to
Slide.

CITY.

I don’t often head into town, you know
I don’t really dig that scene, too many lights

Little bit too fast
Little bit too loud.

 But when I do –

Late night visits end in despair
I look around and I see bodies
Bodies lace the street
From top to bottom
Queens
Duvets, blankets, pillows, bodies.
No homes, no hope, no chance.
Vomit on the sidewalk,
Outside a burger joint
Got your minimum wage fast food worker
Mopping it up.
He looks happy.
Water mains burst, flooding the road,
Preacher screaming over the torrent
Got a book, the good book, the good word
Bullshit.
No one’s listening.
Probably cause they took a look around
Saw it as it is
There’s no God on Queens
Not tonight.
Fucken cesspool man, we’re drowning
Billboards are neon, moving
Saturating the hopeless
Blinded.
This is the best we can do?
This is the pinnacle of evolution?
Inebriated chimps, flinging shit at each other
And you’re telling me this is where it’s at
I don’t buy it man.

 

DIG THIS.

The tin-can alleyway rattling
of mechanical plow horse
flesh wagon spiteful screamer
dragging tooth & some nail
through shangri-la
who is now
fucked up beyond
all recognition
crying mud
where golden era relics
side burned delinquents
& self-proclaimed
armpit dwellers
shroud in prayer
pining for privacy
& peace
while belligerent
6 ft 5 geriatric ham hock
grunts carnivorous
soliloquies
overheard by
absent-minded
fluoro slave
who nods twice
salutes then resumes
molesting the atmosphere
consequently
swiftly convicted of
man attacks universe
is apprehended
beheaded
incinerated
scattered
& resting
ham hock is now
laughing.

 

 

 

 

 

Happy.

I had some cold cat dress me down once
Asked me if I studied anything.
I said it wasn’t my thing
He gasped, blew his mind.
Asked me what I did.
I told him, this and that.
He hung his head.
Asked me what I wanted to be
Said I never thought about it.
He almost shed a tear for me.
Asked me if I wanted to earn more
Said I got everything I need.
He told me what he earns.
Right on.
Asked me if I had regrets.
Said I made some choices.
He sighed in my direction.
Before he walked away
Asked him if he was happy.
He didn’t say much.

 

Maybe.

Sure,
You can have it all.
Maybe.
You could seize the dream, drag it down, lace up and walk a life like that.
Sure.
I bet it would be nice.
But.
You’re far too lazy.
Complacent.
Easily distracted.
It’s a real shame, kid.
You’ll look back.
Maybe.
See someone wearing your shoes.
That stride.
Your stride
Their stride now.
Damn shame.
Y
ou could have had it all.
Maybe.