human suffering 2.8

2.8

If I could only talk to you for a little while before I read for the ladies. I was their hero. Especially for those who thought they needed saving. I wanted to go straight ahead. I thought we stood on some kind of common ground. I seem to be seeking for the right words. So many times the right words do not come. There can only be a little glimpse into this thing, this wonder, and this world mystery. I wanted to impress you with the seriousness of my concern.  To hell and back with all the noses. I can hear the darkness call. That voice has always been there. Calling out to me in all times and ever conscious of the eye. I had sacrificed the patron saint. Tied her up with the fresh clippings of the bushes in the backyard and set her heart to flame. There is always some life blood dripping away. Off you go with my sorrow.

Human suffering 2.7

2.7

I have been thinking about remote things. I think of a soft body in a cool dress, a summer dress. I have seen you both victorious and defeated. You field of vision is hot white desire. Your house burned down from the intensity. At first the curtains were set to fire and then your couches and chairs. Soon your book shelves were all aglow. In the mornings there is nothing to do but wait. Sitting on the stoop counting the passing cars, I told you that we should end this charade, that we really didn’t have a clue as to what we were doing. We danced to your broken soul and drank a toast for the lonely.

creativity 2.6

2.6

I have spent so many years trying to be silent. To not speak of the sensual and to let be still all those ghosts that long for silence within my heart. I have no more room in my heart for propaganda. There go two beats, pushing blood, pulling me along down the road. One foot I place in front of the other, mesmerized. I see my body being covered by moles. I am watching the white chickens eating their feed. I sit and watch them for hours. Could we become one?

creativity 2.5

2.5

my god is a little stone rhino that sits on top of my computer his name is horny the fissionability of Freudian concepts can they spark a fire the clues to your personality have pointed to this reoccurring theme of an unwholesome preoccupation with sexual dysfunction disjunction construction finding them in your households ferreting out the human interest story so that the experts can turn it into an atrocity tale how big how wide is it a growing problem can we find it in Paducah Kentucky altering the bizarre things with cotton candy and Carmel apples as the ducks eat the bread from off the bridge needing a diminutive with a lyrical lilt one of the most limpid and luminous liquid and delicate the welcome murmur of its source of heartrending fate knocking at your door very nasty with a look of the multilingual memory we are back again to your tower and the virus that you infected us with not wanting to join a cargo cult as gods sends presents from the sky I had to invent your America because it did not exist there was a cheap plastic version that everyone else was buying into yes they have become very good salesmen and saleswomen when I question their experience at running things they all give me a nasty look

creativity 2.4

2.4

we are grieving for our loss it is a loss that we have know for a very long time we gave  it a name and made it a home inside our hearts this loss a was a poor lonely beggar begging for scraps of meat at the door so many have shooed him away but I let him in a gave him a place a special place where he can grow in his utmost a sense of immorality that is very strong I do not give a damn for your morals that are the ideals and values of the weak you have glorified the weak and have made a fool your king it is your responsibility a vain and cruel wretch that appear from time to time to be human he is really just a jackal that should be kicked and beaten like the rest he is lulled into a deep sleep not being able to distrust the phony you have made the phony your king living in a false world a primitive world filled with glitter and remorse I was a one man multitude a Kinbote slashing and pointing my sword in your face challenging you to come out to play to be a warrior against the philistines in their seditious plot to pull the wool over your eyes one or two spicy digs the soul descends with Chrissy Georgio into hell as a teacher she is dangerous and dubious to the garden incinerator the illusion of spontaneous conversation great pains and mushroomed almost overnight the solution to the composition I cannot grudge her this with her sinister charms few can deny her queer pull the struggle with the snow on the driveway she tugs at her sweater and brings us the tray with drinks your kingdom for an ice cube or a tetrahedron the clearing of nervous throats why so nervous her high forehead with her hair pulled back exposing her little scar the same kind of acid-etched scene nothing is as exhilarating as American vulgarity feeding the trailer trash to the rich and vice versa it is the coliseum all over again can we get enough lions for the evening show there is nothing like the crunch of good Christian bone you can skip history class I will tell you everything you need to know about the past present and future the ascended fathers why are they fathers it must be some leftover patriarchy getting in between the cracks of your toes yes just some toe jam of paternalism and hierarchical thinking the female boner of feminist theory god bless you doctor baker you could roll it up and bake it in a pan while the hubby would not work for the warmongers I forgot to put the not in the monger sex as an institution with its institutional discrimination the rules dictate how we tie you up and how much you should be paid and what is an appropriate safe word we are creatures of habit and custom believing in your ideology your sex as a roadside accident they stick their heads out of the car windows and whistle sweet Jesus blow your fucking whistle one with the platonic solids trace the line around the body it is just a government statistic now not a real live human being something for the senator to show on the senate floor in his blue and red chart

creativity 2.2

2.2

the function of the medium is to make something happen making it happen can you make it happen you say you believe but you don’t believe in god or politics or the politicians but you do believe in utopia how is this different than religion you have replaced one religion with another you are still trying to reach a future state that doesn’t exist that never will exist you are still operating inside the box the box is your home and you don’t realize it little boxes that hold your head little boxes that hold your shit little boxes they are stacked one on top of another they go up beyond my ability to see they reach up into the heavens they are your tower of Babel each one a soul commitment each box represents a sin not against a non-existent god but against yourself each box represents a time you deceived yourself into thinking everything is ok are someday will be ok this shit never works out the way we planned I am sorry but it is true I guess that can be your absolute truth everything is fucked up