.92

the floor was stickier than usual

the patrons crazier 

& rowdier

than i'd witnessed of late

the air was thick with fratboy cologne

and the stench of bulimia

there was groping

violence wafted overhead

add drunken beauty 

to that cocktail 

and there we were

wasted and happy

.91

all the poetry 

got me the girl.

who turned out 

not to be real.

i thought 

she was young,

and wise beyond her years.

i thought 

i was old enough 

to know better.

i was wrong twice.

she was a pro.

while i - oppressed - 

had simple 

amateur status.

she was 

a death wish.

i was 

a trick.

this truth - her truth

was hidden by an

exterior swathed in knock-off linen

and tiffany-like c.z.s

intended for mere deception—

her natural state of being.

i couldn't see straight,

and that was on purpose.

camouflaged,

she was

ready to pounce.

ready to asphyxiate.

ready to kill.

she taught me

venom is woman

spelled 

backwards

and nothing more.

.90

the very awesomeness

of your brown smile 

below you crocheted boleta cap 

takes me to places 

beneath the earth, 

beneath the sea 

where colors are muted 

and beauty is hidden.

i don't. i won't. 

i don't even know how. 

sometimes i forget, 

but more often i get wisps of you 

throughout the cosmos;

those otherworldly messages 

that indicate direction, 

lost time and gravity.

.89

as koreatown
burns to the ground
i stand on the sidelines
listening to the sound
of the people in streets
in sheets with beliefs
and wonder how these creeps
will justify their receipts
maintain their shocked grief
as they say they do
koreatown's on fire
this time it's true

and they hold our lives
in the palms of their hands
sweaty and wrinkled and
made in iran
they've got guns to the right
and murder in their eyes
this is the sound
when elephants cry
take 'em out kobe style
at least we used to
koreatown's on fire
what are you gonna do?

.88

warm up the presses

it's ink and paper

a tender display

of calligraphy

invitations

never to be sent

rubber stamp

the route to freedom

the back-up lights

brake, ebb & flow

the pixels are perfect

but broken

.87 [cokni o'dire]

My man Nick Faigin 

told me not to say nuthin', 

but i gotta get it out

cuz y'know i got somethin'

He said I should write a letter 

then tear it up. 

That sounded like a good idea, 

but it wasn't enough.

.86

they'll be hell to pay

there's documentarians everywhere

you'll tell the truth

with all these cameras and conflicts

i see the outline of time

i see it clearly and often

i produce, i reuse, 

i reach below and above

overgrown - 

a manchild within

a wallet on a chain in a pants pocket

a similar, but simpler mistake

.85

she's a pleasure

a moonbeam

a feast of womankind.

inconsiderate beauty:

she wears it like

a sad jacket bedazzled.

it sparkles

on the fantastical

red carpet.

the superstar within

struggles without 

her heart.

.84

one of them

the misfits

the slimey

the milfs

the slumming

the over

the under

all genius

all artists

not to be disdained

but cherished

celebrated and

brought to the frontlines

and among them

.83

i think it.

i get it.

who am i 

to judge?

i see it-

then i can't.

i'm desperate-

then i'm not.

i whisper-

than i shout.

i'm confused and

i cannot understand.

.82

a bastard of a day

a realization of a wrinkle

an obsession with the truth

a notion of the past

a rancor still within

.81

diesel engine roars

feel it from inside

a slippery clutch

rocketing petrol

drizzily cold

the journey is gray

and every gray journey 

begins this way

butlered into

an old overcoat

pockets filled

with tickets and ink

quickly refreshed with 

purchased breathmints

and a bottle of water 

holstered in tight

i sit with papers

bag and my book

prepared to waste time 

should anxiety cease

still hours til morning

days before destinations

my socks fill with moisture

my adidas - gone lame

.80

i'm california cool and

i'm santa monica mellow

new york's nice and

new york is it

but i'm california calm and 

i'm very venice beach

.79

it's completely improbable-

this sham of a love

gently unfolding

into petals of truth.

.78 [funk]

i'm on-the-one
psych-o-delic
blissed out
in outa-space

i'm dirt behind the ears

scrubbed until i'm bled

dished out and
i'm served cold

i'm colorful
colorless
flavorful and
flawed

i'm friday night fights
i'm saturday jams
i'm family stone and fatbacked

baptized

forgiven

i'm work-a-day-all-week
i'm hustle to pay the rent
i'm in cubicles and meth labs

i'm a stone gas

honey

i'm a party
i'm a heartbreak
i'm a secret 

love affair

i'm sugarcoated

deep-fried

raw and 

famous amos-ed

i'm surrogate soul

parliament

punked

superfly-ed, atomic dog-ed

con-funk-shun

.77

hello photo.

it's something 

in the way 

she poses.

silent still

the world;

chosen–

the best from the roll.

.76 [love]

love
delivers 

the grand punch
of excitement.
that raison d'etre

and nothing less.

love

pants and sighs,

and unrealized,

it doesn't die-

it just lies 

beneath the smiley surface

and flattens

.75

i busted my cherry

at 26 and a day

my sheets were stained

with black ink

to look back now

it's nail guns at sunset

pressurized cannons

with plenty to see

.74

the boredom

daily without thinking

ass sitting

standard

commiserate

with others

who can rationalize pain

who can live without crying

those who can live despite dying

i wouldn't

i couldn't

i shouldn't

if there is fear

i own it

those things i hold dear

i've known it

all the times i've been expected 

to be grown up

put on that smile 

to the world and shown it

the kitchen

the bathmat

dust settled 

on the tabletop

the silent 

Santa Monica

mornings

.73

Cosmos is a flower
and not just outer space
they come in chocolate, red and gold
they put a smile on her face
they're prettier than other annuls
and much much much more rare
they're hard to find, hard to get
then they die - why care?
there are much more common flowers
be they white or beige or blonde
the thing you love - it always dies
its there and then its gone.

.72

your heart is
encased behind
a solid concrete wall
surrounded by
a massive moat—
brimming within of
burning lava.
i can't get through—
i can't get past—
i can't get in—
no one
can get in—
a something friendship
with nothing to lose
your glorious freedoms
your meticulous heart
unfettered
still pure...
maybe slightly corrupted
and confused and
twisted up—
seeking hydration
until thoroughly quenched

.71

what do you feel
when the earth quakes
when the foundation shakes
when outside it's only
grotesque and moody
and unnatural
and frightening

do you feel all alone?
do you want to go home?
do you even have
somewhere to go?
do you know?
do you know?
do you know?

.70

She knelt on the other side
of the canvas tarp —advertising
a budweiser sponsored
volleyball competition
down on the beach—
and was sucking on a bamboo reed
with the flat of her slightly
exposed pink tongue,
in preparation for playing
her wooden ebony clarinet.

"nice embouchure"
I smirked,
while forcing
myself to finish
a mint ice tea, I ordered specifically
for the caffeine…
"Thankth! Cahn I buy you anuthza?"
she lisped, reed still in place,
"I haven't even finished with this,
and I might not finish it at all—
I don't really like mint"
She removed the reed and
offered to blow me.
Nice embouchure, indeed.

.69

these women never cease
whether or not you pay them
whether or not you're good to them
they never give you what you really want
not their body-
for bodies always get old.
not their mind-
for minds often grow feeble.
not their spirit-
for their spirit can be weak.
but their respect-
everlasting
in response
for your honesty
for your love
for your patience
for your humor
for your effort
for your success
these women never cease

.68

it's not my fault
that
she couldn't handle it—
my business
my politics
my cowboy spirit
my eazy-e sincerity

her karma
hit a brick wall
at ferocious speed-
becoming broken, warped
in need of
replacing
like her own pricey Vuitton

her time is running out
her story
is old and uninteresting
her flame flickers—
i got burned
by simply standing
too close

.67

she brings the pain
but not in a good way
she brought this wrath
down on herself alone
i'm gonna fuck all her women
and ruin all her men
i understand now
exactly what she does
and why she does it
it makes her human
i embrace a
genuine rush of power
now knowing
i could crush her sexy ass

.66 [the N train]

Through QB
silly how one wonders;
writes tentatively
all about the sound
clattering
clacking
riotous
vomit hurling racket
between the cars
between the ears
it's a question of degree
quietly I listen
even quieter I expound
flashing lights mean nothing
My world is down.
Under.
Above.
Anything but right here,
Right now.

.65

the hottest
summer nights
scald me
and with
blinding energy
every sad
neon sign
turns on
to you

the dapper and
the dapped
estranged and
engorged
overflown and
overfilled
forfeit real life for your beauty

splurging
the excessive depths
of your kinky headed
halo'ed image
i yearn
(i do)
but for what
i no longer know

.64

how i wish
i wasn't
what i am
to you

if i could be
any other
you might
take a second look

instead
i lost your
attention
immediately

.62

I do go on
Dour and humorless
Scarred and overly private
Friendless and privileged
Situationally disadvantaged
Socially retarded
For all to revisit
Should they stumble upon me
My inaccessibility
Mechanical measures taken
Ensures my demoness'
Won't be disconnected again

The nutrition
Daily without thinking
Disturbing like a cold chill
Disturbed like raised flesh
The riptides mellifluous
Aroused and soaked through
Weighted down
Tender and heavy
The freezing calm
Combative and sweaty
A storm is brewing
A warm front
An unholy humidity
A heavy burden
A realtime disaster
A funeral

.61

mine and her's pure secret
we are clandestine
deep dark and dirty
for no one to know
for they will judge
then destroy the mighty delusion
the catastrophe

i deflate embarrassingly
when you whisper the truth
mesmerized by your sworn witness
invested in soulful degradations
committing what once was
but from now on
will never be

.59

the jazz baps along 

with her heartfelt song
strumming
bumming
or is that just me—
unfulfilled
losing my grasp
and again
my past
has nothing on me
i never could be told—
so why would I tell you?

.58 [nyc]

where the living breathe,
there is more to see
and more to do.
one must trust
but not
completely.
a missed opportunity
can ruin
a whole day.
tingling from head to toe,
i could never be heard from
again.

.57

A movie star
at an awards ceremony
you presented
yourself,
leaving
fingerprints
on me
that still haven't
rinsed clean.

Awkwardly
incessantly
religiously -
ridiculously preening
my resumé emptied
my credentialed sack
acid dipped
like hidden
was even an option.

.56

It started as a joke on myspace
then I heard you sing,
I tried to convince you
I was the man—
I was just trying to fit in.

We played a little rough that first night
but still we both were playing
fantasy…
reality...
neither one to blame.

But it started sweet on myspace
and maybe without class

I Googled you
I wanted you
Your heart your soul

your exquisite ass.

.55

there's a face you make
when you don't wanna hear it
like you wish it hadn't
appeared at all-

you crinkle your nose
as southern lines swim
rippling
your satin brow

those infamous eyebrows
suffer in silence
seismologically
stretch and scrunch

truth vs. fault
they answer divided,
but they answer
nevertheless

.54

terror sets in…

like a Buñuel
nightmare
like a Bosch
daydream
like a limping
lizard
like a child…

like a Dali
stopwatch
like a road
to ruin
like a solid gold
erection
like a heart
that's been broken
like a heart
that's still healing
like a handful of
ashes
like a goddamn
foul ball
like my life
before you

Under St Marks

Bowery Poetry Club

.53 [the moon]

I.

are you suffering from happiness extremes?
do the stars seem farther away than ever?
you never answer my questions
i'm just left with my imagination

are you fine and well and taking on the world?
are you cerebral and cautious and planning your next move?
all my questions remain unanswered
i may as well think about the moon

II.
moon lights up my nights
let's me know when to sleep
reminds me to think of you
makes me wake when it's done

i can't make it stop
and i want you to know
it's changed and estranged me
from those that i love

maybe someday
that light will extinguish
then hummingbird flutters
won't crowd round my door

i'll find some respect
and maybe a fortune
my life will change for the better
and the dawn will have come

.52

i think i need a woman
i know i do in fact
i'm up the wall
so you should call
or at least just call me back

i think i need a trainwreck
drop me to my knees
wake me up
in the middle of the night
make my darkness ultra-bright

i think i need to scream
i think i wanna scam
i think i gotta lean
i think therefore i am

.51

summer's impending
swooping towards May
memory overfill
the sand
the steps
the pier
and the memory
of you.

.50

i had
nothing
then i met you
now i have
every thing

i never
got out of bed
before you
now my spine is strong
and able

i couldn’t find
my way
around
now the direction
is obvious

i thought you
were accommodating
yet untamable
now i just
stay away

.49

women must dread
that moment
when they walk into
a bar
a club
a restaurant
anywhere in the world
and see
that man and
lock eyes with him
for just a second...


the panic
as her naiveté
catches up
and her secret
jeopardizes
everything...


imminently scrutinized
by those she trusted...
suddenly threatened
by those she deceived...


and i love the deceivers -
the unconventional urchins
who share their indigo sex appeal
their dark femininity -
all pleather and sateen
polyester
and mine

.48

I'm not up for being down.
I simply want to bond
with greatness.


As I look round the joint,
I see the scattered 2 or 3,
self-absorbed, self-involved, and detached.
Out of the darkness much genius permeates.


I can sit back and enjoy myself and
trust that life can be simultaneously fair
but so uncool.


Nearing rainbows - breaking rules
the consequences are few—if any
A nice cool rainfall would be perfect
Cleanse my head, my body and heart


I will live in the moment
and believe that everything
happens for a reason.

.47

your worn Vuitton bag
and faded black "Apple Bottoms"
you don when you dress up
when you’re bored or being boring

i don’t even know
why i would want you
normal and republican
aspiring to be like the wind


you say San Diego
is too conservative
obviously Stockholm
is too dull

but it’s where you belong
and I’ll dump you there
if you tell me you’re happy
and you’re where you wanna be

.46

just like
the paintings
i’ve covered
you up

the canvas’
with gesso
my mind
with the drugs

.45

people do a lot of things
for a lot of reasons.
girls lie about sex
all day everyday.
i get a little overexcited
a lot of the time.

.44

You gonna bust that chump down to size?
Make him needy and weak?
Have him questioning his every move?
When his one desire is you.

It sickens me.
Looks like a ruse from here.
I’m trying to forget,
yet I can’t disconnect.

Will you
go STRAIGHT for him?
Or will you go
straight FOR HIM?

.43

hope you find
what you need
hope you need
what you find
our stars won’t collide
our planets won’t align
torturing hearts
just your way to survive

never again
will you choose to ignore me
the rest of your life
you will bore me and floor me
i won’t be told to stop staring
and you’ll never be seen
reciprocal kindness
is an obsessive’s dream

that you do well
that you do good
the most generous
that i can be
i wish it was more
by the end of the day
it’s a drop in the ocean
a tear in the sea

.42

a wicked transformation
is underfoot
a brain wave of possible terror
a hidden nosebleed
a caution

investigative pontification
there is an answer
and it is underfoot
like winter bricks worn
and potholed