Thursday, October 30, 2008


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?

Wednesday, October 29, 2008


warm up the presses
it's ink and paper
a tender display
of calligraphy
never to be sent

rubber stamp
the route to freedom
the back-up lights
brake, ebb & flow
the pixels are perfect
but broken

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

.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.


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

Monday, October 27, 2008


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.

Sunday, October 26, 2008


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

Saturday, October 25, 2008


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.

Friday, October 24, 2008


a bastard of a day
a realization of a wrinkle
an obsession with the truth
a notion of the past
a rancor still within

Thursday, October 23, 2008


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

Wednesday, October 22, 2008


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

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


it's completely improbable-
this sham of a love
gently unfolding
into petals of truth.

Monday, October 20, 2008

.78 [funk]

i'm on-the-one
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
flavorful and

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

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

i'm a party
i'm a heartbreak
i'm a secret 
love affair

i'm sugarcoated
raw and 
famous amos-ed

i'm surrogate soul
superfly-ed, atomic dog-ed

Friday, October 17, 2008


hello photo.
it's something 
in the way 
she poses.
silent still
the world;
the best from the roll.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

.76 [love]

the grand punch
of excitement.
that raison d'etre
and nothing less.

pants and sighs,
and unrealized,
it doesn't die-
it just lies 
beneath the smiley surface
and flattens

Thursday, October 9, 2008


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

Friday, October 3, 2008


the boredom
daily without thinking
ass sitting
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