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words of the man becomes the man and the man becomes his words pardon my male centric writing the explanation of my words is sought in the biography of my life we are supposed to live our words and when we don’t the audience forces our lives into the mold of our words we write of death because we seek death we write of abuse because we have been abused we write of love because we have loved the simple mind seeks to reduce the complexity into small bits that can be understood they assimilate the small bits and leave the large bits to rot like forgotten dead flesh it is all because of our mothers they fucked us up like an average dumbass a stock photo of your scissors we have left you to yourself to cut your hair and save the clippings using them in your ritual of love casting a spell on me the pottery is unfortunate making me happy a shady piece of crap don’t get it twisted partner I am out here to expose the truth we are all friends here a force from nature obfuscate the truth she walked in and thought I was dead round characters and flat characters you weren’t keeping track of the score your voice floating through these steel walls assassinate the perfection kill the rejection pull it out of your pocket and flash it all around this aint money this is a fantasy land I’m sending to you so you can see it identify it place it in a police lineup the man is threatening me with incarceration with impossible dreams of leaving the jungle of someday walking like a free man with no scars upon his conscious I have washed your blood from my hands I have cast my lot with the Romans we pulled your temples down we sold you to the nearest merchant he hung a sing around your neck advertising your price how much for a piece of leg how much for a sniff of her tail a walk in the park the demons speak of your worthiness not wanting to speak bad of the dead all of your lovers lined up to cry by your body I was surprised how well they stitched you together the steel wheels did so much damage cutting you in two snidely whiplash would have been proud of my work the knots were tied with such love I was making a sacrifice to the gods of industry feeding the fires of the locomotive she is posting her outfits separately the first time her legs have been aired out in weeks she emphasizes a life of passion go to work mow the lawn feed the children marginalized through the mundane doing those things that have to be done running from the Republicans as they shout at you over the television screen counting the heads sitting in the church pews changing the spare tire a miserable creature fate leads me to conclusions ad hoc conclusions an island I never heard of before innocent goats and their collective sleep the outstretched hands of the melancholy priest thinking about the words he has put down on the page their resonance to his life in this world and the next cutting the tall grass in large broad strokes watching the clouds for a sign an indication for the direction of fate how it will influence the totality of our misunderstandings I thought about you and my thoughts turned out to be wrong you didn’t fit my little definition of the world you showed me that I need a bigger definition in order to contain you there is this possessive tendency again the desire to own something to possess something or someone is this capitalism or is this patriarchy telling them to get in line with the rain and the loneliness they want to be just like you to smell like you to talk like you to walk among the

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gloves the leather gloves are becoming me my fingers grow into the leather my fingers breathe in the leather the rabbit fur and I are one we coexist in the same world we all live in a ghost town we watch the tumbleweeds as my fingers cry out oh my god where is the justice there is no justice for a pair of leather gloves there is no justice for my fingers no justice only rambling tumbleweeds the buffalo eat the tumbleweeds the buffalo don’t believe in scary mary they believe in leather gloves and the invisible hand of the market just like Mr. Perry he believes in faith he thinks that faith will get him elected he thinks faith will give him prestige he thinks faith will give him power Mr. Perry wants power most of all we should be concerned about his wanting power this could be a problem for us all we need someone who can see the future to see if Mr. Perry is the one who will blow up the world all of the buffalos all of the leather gloves and scary mary and his religious followers they will get their wish to not exist boom says Mr. Perry let us blow it all up we will do it for jesus and his brother AC they are placing bets on when it will happen scary mary doesn’t believe in jesus he only believes in AC I believe in eternal ignorance and a woman who rides the buffalo I watch her on my video screen she has a pleasant smile her smile says trust me I’m as insane as you maybe even more she stopped my shoes dead in their tracks squeaking like a melon salesman with hieroglyphic meanings trying to get the message out about the new world order and the illuminati they were taking over the toaster and the refrigerator magnets of jesus as he was walking on the water speaking to the buffalos about the new Jerusalem god damn am I hallucinating or is this a rerun of I love lucy and I’m the guest in this episode about a cocktail waitress that believes too much in salem cigarettes burning all the witches in new York city while they worship the pagan mary and send their stickers to little bo peep since she lost all her sheep in the meat packing industry while making her pornographic video breathe mother fucker breathe in the holy ghost and the burning picture of Spiderman as he hangs from her wall the flames leap so high we are all so high and pagan mary is afraid that she won’t come down the superman sent me a hit of acid in the mail I swallowed it and settled in for the ride she took the play to a strange place when she suggested that we kill the author that we each write our version of the play and perform them simultaneously I pulled out a dictionary from my backpack and looked up some big words we are hidden beneath our constructions we deceive each other into thinking that we live a linear existence we ignore the spirals of life professing our literary ideas upon the woman the destruction of her voice we destroy her point of origin we make her a prop in our play she stands upon the stage unfeeling we cannot feel her we cannot swallow her up and take her inside us we expand to include her yet she stands apart we participate in her death we remove her from the dialogue and make her a potted plant to be moved from scene to scene when the lights go down she ceases to exist we shut the doors of the auditorium and turn off the lights and she fades into the nothingness centered upon my life my tastes my passions I have become objectified to myself all of my failures is the result of who I am as a man we link the biography with the words of the author they become one the

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constructed for ourselves what does it say about a society when we lie to children every chance we get did we inherit a tradition of lies from the past what other lies are we telling ourselves is the foundation of our existence based upon lies why are lies so predominate in our culture it seems that the bigger the lie the greater the success and prestige of the individual lies lies and more lies we have them piled up to our ears tickling our ears our life is a big fact fucking lie everything is a lie I am the gate that stands before you I am the lie I am the darkness no one passes go no collects 200 dollars no one wins in this game the cards are stacked against you only suckers play the game I could not separate the boundary from the real and what seemed to be real the game creates illusion it numbs the mind characters in a play you read the lines and play your part but it not you it is you pretending to be someone else some people spend their wholes lives pretending to be someone else are you real can you be real can you stop playing the game look at all that you have lost there is nothing to gain I guess it is something you cannot choose you just fall into it you start playing the game little by little and eventually you can’t get out you are trapped the game is now part of you the eyes tell the story years of being lied to and years of believing in the lies of this world they are the eyes of the hoodwinked of the possessed of the sheep as they head for the slaughter expectations mixed with so many emotions fate leads to so many ad hoc conclusions thinking about things differently we no longer exalt human reason there no longer a utopia we live in a world where the tower has been toppled your claims about the truth is an attempt to control people anyone who claims to know the absolute truth is only trying to control you scary mary wants to control people he wants to build an army of believers an army of true believers creating little clones who think just like him division is evil thinking your own thoughts is evil questioning the authority of scary mary is evil continue telling him how great he is how smart he is we have dethroned the declarative sentences life is uncertain your conviction shows your desire to build a religion you are the high priest of aggressive bullying nonsensical bullshit must not structure must not be the genesis an oversimplification thus creating doubts in my mind you try to contain all of us but this containment shows the evil in your heart we are deconstructing you we reject your meta-narrative a community of sycophants kissing your ass I am just identifying the differences between you and me a greater shadow that cannot be experienced the ability to understand what is different the psychics are wrong married at 19 I must have been twenty younger than 27 never liking the concept of best friend the things that I carry with me in the Midwest not being in your place I doubt that it can be missed she loves the buffalo as they graze in the backyard she wants to live on the back of a buffalo she once fell in love on the back of a buffalo so she wants to spend the rest of her life on the back of the buffalo as they graze in my backyard there is love on the back of buffalo I am alone in my house alone with the books and the words that haunt me missing the foundation your foundation of lies the emotional requirements never coming to the same place I am wearing a new pair of leather gloves the leather gloves are wearing me I am becoming a pair of leather

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million stones the feminine adds gives balance to the year a creational wave light is spirit the spiral and the serpent seven serpents spiral the feathered serpent a disc and the wings spiraling through the milky way sin is the fact that we have entered the material world we have entered the sine wave the cause is the spirit the first ring the soul is descending going through polarizations acquiring the atomic nature being hexed in matter chronology time born into time seven liberal arts the general has seven sons and seven daughters and ten horns sprout from his head thus we have 24 hours the inferior world that goes up to heaven below the sun is the infernal world seven is the physical in the kingdom of Satan accumulating the seven vices he blinds our minds we all become ethereal as we ascend from the womb to the tomb they are both the same it is a spiritual story I have left you behind in prints and postcards in old letters with yellowed pages in the notes that I kept concerning your behavior the end is never the except a new beginning traveling back into the heavens she walks like Bo Diddley she would arch her back and hiss jump up in the air landing on her feet it was like she saw something that wasn’t there she could disappear like a cat get stuck in a pine tree calling out for someone to let her down the twin brother of satan would come around and do magic tricks for us he was a funny fellow always had twelve guys that would follow him around it was like they were memorizing everything he would say or do can you remember a mouth so tight like a hunting animal things that might be of use someday the wonderful things and their ending using a piece of cardboard to make a dramatic change trying create a solution I am scarping the cardboard against you placing you in the wind to dry to become a remote hermit an isolated and alienated individual separated from your species being nobody cares pushing you down into the bricks it is not good to be standing on a bunch of stuff looking at you without my eyes I am trying to remember that you are people too am I too much for you I do have my drawbacks killing you with a paint roller going back and forth over your body I replaced the cardboard with a paint roller they both are very good I have been exposed to your germs daggers in your eyes and hammers pounding in your head stewing the potholder and smoking your knowledge of silence with a teaspoon of science taken in by the stupidity watching the cranks on the internet listening with our emotions with our guts destructive guts patriotic guts they are making a statue of my guts and then there are nuts they can never get enough nuts blowing them up and filming it for tv we are all entitled to an opinion about nuts appeal and claims about my nuts appealing to the emotions of my nuts the train wreck of my nuts my nuts have earned respect bow down and worship them and their idiotic musings enjoy the stupidity of my nuts repeating the same lies to the power of zeitgeist I am convinced of the truth of my nuts the immutable word surviving the products an incredible organ pulling off your puzzle pieces gluing the metal to the side of your face they blend into your face lonely lumps of metal traveling through space and time occasionally we crash into a planet or an asteroid eventually we burn ourselves out becoming nothing becoming one with the deep dark space

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scam he is listening to Budgie Bandolier and talking to the dead spirits in the room it is time for us to decide the course of our direction living inside someone else’s dream unable to change the direction or the speed I moved headlong by someone else’s power it was as if I was living someone else’s life letting things naturally rise to the surface once again the beautiful woman disappears the man is left to search for her in this world and others there is a mystery to unravel impressions to interpret and magical experiences to experience the magical bleeds over into the mundane world silly madness with squinty eyes your god exists in your troubles it is when your troubles go away that god ceases to exist your throw your troubles at the nearest deity hoping for mercy and relief wanting a cure for your shakes a fix for your hunger creating my doom making plans for my destruction she was making love to me she said AC was leaving her for another woman I had nothing to offer her except confusion deciding things that were already decided thinking we had a choice thinking we could move mountains and slay dragons she said that in the end it will all work out for the best I knew that I would eventually destroy her faith in goodness it would take some time but I would eventually wear her down I was soon becoming her only friend and she always fucked her friends we crossed the groaning abyss she was trying to invent the wheel I told her it had already been done but she wouldn’t listen leaning over my shoulder her hot breath on my neck she wanted to show me her plans they were very detailed and intricate I examined them very closely I didn’t want to miss anything crippled by the salute disarmed by my wicked smile I am climbing up her back she wants to sit upon my throne and worship at my altar steady and loud I am familiar with her ambition and her emotional diplomats a poor little lump of metal we feel the other world hexed by the sine wave the divine science a being like us the seven visible orbs mercury and the right brain the messenger of the gods spiritual psychic and matter a fiery ball of hydrogen decoding the puzzle sitting on the edge of the world a correlation between the sky and the ground a knowledge of heaven the pattern of our life the significance of small moments moving by the eternal spirit of reason marveling at nature’s works putting the stars into flight impressed upon the human constitution it comes from the center the sun on its angle very precious days everything comes back into balance the blossom into the land of god celebrating the birth of spring the first full moon there once was only the virgin and she had no scales to weigh the worth of humanity interchanging particles they are the causal ones stimulating the best and the worst a global conflict representing freedom raw and with syrup cracking the bullwhip all tools modify the environment the hammer modifies the nail dealing with the darkness inside one glorious voice a big giant floater endorsing your autonomy everything is multiple not trying to be vague about your decision making power we are to be understood I can’t talk about it right now getting a head of self seasonal affective disorder a cosmic order where are you looking are you looking in the wrong way looking through socio-cultural context thinking about what you have been told pointing towards the rising sun we walk between the two pillars provisions and the weathering flying in your helicopter three