YEAH WELL I HATE YOU

all 

the 

madness & horror

& bad skullfuckery

would make sense

could make sense

if god would show up
& say

yeah well i hate you

but he
cant even
do that

MONDAY POPS

THE ACCIDENTAL JIVE

i
trust
in
the
coincidence
and
accidental jive
in
the
back-brain autopilot 
under 
the 
erosion and fog
to
make
my
scribbles
call 
sense their friend


CAFFEINE FREE

how thin the world is
without
stimulants
in
the 
morning mug

a detox / a fast
willful suffering

calling 
out 
to
a new peace
to
swell
my
world buddha plump


LOOK INSIDE

i
write
open
windows
you
can
look
in
and
see
my disguises
folded
on
shelves