The quiet moments of my evil
There is in every madman a misunderstood genius whose idea, shining in his head, frightened people, and for whom delirium was the only solution to the strangulation that life had prepared for him.
Antonin Artaud
I am not quiet about my evil
feeding that part of me that needs the evil
the grasshoppers are fucking the beauty queens
feeling this kind of deadness
overly feeling this need
I have crossed the threshold of human hate
she says that her suffering is absolute
I am here next to you
recognizing the evil inside me
an occupying force
I will never forget the things you have done to me
how you have stolen from me
cold, alone and nameless
like Casablanca in the drizzling rain
we reduce these things to the extreme
giving you up to the dead
at midnight we went to church
Hemingway was preaching about Utopia
he said the aliens were preaching through him
and he was hiding from the government
he was a targeted individual
planning protests and drinking cheap vodka
he spent his days looking for medical marijuana
always wondering about the crazy stuff
he is planning a trip to Afghanistan
to purchase the fruit of poppies
spending his afternoons relaxing by the pool
listening to Dire Straits and Bob Dylan
subjugated and conquered
bending you to my will
you surrender all
a demonstration to prove the metamorphosis
crawling on your belly
twisted around my finger
breaking you down
complete surrender
you have been trained to behave
falling headlong into my trap
this is the point of dissolution
your life has become dependence
into the depths of your personal jungle
profound in your foolishness
led to folly and ruin
I have become irresistible
I ask merely to be loved
seeking a reflection in the mirror
someone that I can recognize
no longer blinded by the glamor
refracting all light
alive in the flesh
your velvet was exaggerated
looking so helpless
your ass up against the wall
straight to the hands of the compass
you are tactile and delicious
murderous and full blown
ashamed of your gluttony
the pinwheel revolving as your groaned
a husky murmur
encouraging me to unleash my tricks
slapping up against me
my teeth marks on your neck
stealing the hour
inventing the cosmos
we stepped out of our bodies
you grew three heads
and wings
wonderful and splendid wings
we watched the witches stir the poison
summoning the last ounce
establishing new rhythms
and we drank
we pass beyond joy
spreading ourselves over the entire surface of the earth
people turning into vegetables
flying through the clouds
lost in the intensity
they try to shut off the motor
but it continues on
churning and burning everything up
a dazed superstitious delight
we divest ourselves of this communion
a sharpening of our senses
your sordid and infantile smile
I had removed your soul many years before
it was quite by accident
a happy accident
sometimes there are such things
developing your streak of madness
it was either music or murder
we all wander down noisy streets
leaving you my insensible body
gloom and rococo lurking
a routine smell of sadness balanced
we are caught in a time warp
feeling the sides of our dilemma
taking careful measurements
trying to determine its boundaries
one system playing against another
the terms of advance capitalism
we refuse to participate in your destruction
fed up with the zero imagination
it was my dreams that you fed on
making your point even more fuzzier
charting out the direct and indirect relationships
they are fighting in the streets
over the problem of imposition
implementing laws
imposing life
forcing somebody to live
no interest in transcribing hope
using the intensity to build the death machine
moving closer to its completion
making a list of my call girls
talking to people I love
wanting to be in your game
these words will not last
like the knife you put in my back
removing the cat hair from your face
sometime you think that the world will eat you up
send you into the vortex without a prayer
red eyes peering at you throug the slats
taking the money and feeling guilty
selling our souls to a collector of antiquity
we are riding to Milwaukee
in the back of an old pickup
drinking beer and shooting out the windows of apssing cars
the girl with her tattoo
eating the oysters from the blue can
I didn't care when she jumped
she was lucky enough to sleep
dealing with life the only way she can
she has nothing figured out
gone are her chances of a future
she couldn't fit to have a human life
it was forced upon her
the wanting was forced
she clinged to the wanting as long as she could
her work left her difficult and lonely
she decided to move away
going back to sleep
having nothing to trade for her life
its all about rods and cones
time dissolves everything
like boiling meat off the bone
a tenuous presence on the way out
the assumptions of your windows
hidden by dirt and grime
I was having a moment of splendor
with a piece of meat
it was a beautiful piece
the pubis mound
and labial tracks of the train
speeding along into the night
of course, time is an illusion
thus, there has to be something else
that takes all things away
digging my own grave
one of my names will set you free
it could be Martin, it could be Steve
I could be the knife that pierces your sleeve
there is a buzz in my void
Kendra was dancing at the golden dolphin
she wants to kill me
because I want it all
she's coming down again
with a knife in her hand
and a smile upon her heart
I took her for a ride
put her in the ground
six feet down
the sky falls down with her
we spent her money and crushed her dreams
under heel and under my wheels
it was a case of mistaken identity
another sister with a needle inher arm
it's how her world falls apart
she wanted to feel proud
to feel something she never felt before
to start with a stolen newness
drinking the feeling in with an awkwardness
she needs to talk about her identity
I want to express my desire
I was caring too much
making the dark magick of the changeling
it is always with me
even when I am drunk with unawareness
you are my little bible
a man was handing you out on a street corner
he gave you to me
and I took you home
as the skin took to the oil
you becoming your name
taking all the properties that you inherited
you bleed and burn
the vision lives on in your ashes
they are stuck in your awe
going into other kinds of places
you move your body and you speak
the past becomes the present
and you are the future
all your basic needs are met
except for love
outside the machine
hurt by your privilege
to dissolve in my hand
not knowing what comes from your mouth
we are making money from the crash
the flash of sudden insight
that instant before the gears move
that small hesitation
when everything becomes so clear
frightening clear
for many of us these moments do not exist
we are blind to them
either do are faults
or the faults of the universe
for a special few, they can grasp the meaning
they here what is being said
some just stop right there
they stop at the hearing
and they live forever in that moment
rejoicing in the fact that they heard
it is the wise few who act upon the voice
they take the vision and put it into action
they make the unreal the real
a moment of splendid transcendence
the air vibrates around her
her feelings seep into me
and change me for the better or the worse
13 spirits carry you away
they take you to that hidden cancer
it is all about the primal call
we are betrayed
rooted to the deception
seeing love as a drop in the bucket
you are a powerless child
waiting and hoping to be released
abandoned when you were young
wishing that love could come back to you
you are waving at me
and eating an apple
your hair in pigtails
just keep talking about the pain
reaching out to the need
to the voice in your head
I take you to the water and throw you in
trying the direct approach
when you look at me,
I hope you don't see a monster
you feel so trapped
going with what you feel
as I go with what I know
being fully honest with what is going on in my head
not trying to impress myself
losing track of my subjects
I am the person you look up to
another lost soul
I forget where I placed it
you are so generous
you care a great deal
getting the bowl on the counter
forcing you to strive
to be the most interesting person I know
I can see your emotional heart
we give good reasons to everything
living to do good things for me
creating a reality that we want
shutting our minds
being bogus
I love your potty mouth
explaining so much
hopes never become reality
you wait for ever
eventually being set crooked
never hanging love
being loved
I steal from you every chance I get
you give and I only take
I take so much from you
more and more every day
we all rest in peace
in our graves of ignorance
they things that we thought when we were young
now seem so stupid
moving closer to the partnership
we are lucky accidents
and wishful speculations
so loaded with ignorance
your head and body are in different places
you stop your world from spinning
this throws everything around you into chaos
I think you live for the chaos
you prefer to live in the confusion
this is the force that moves you
it makes you go from on spot to another
escaping from your life of mediocrity
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