1.
where does the head go
not where its told to
over and over
breaking the rules
broken heart
open and closed
where does the head go
favorite places
where does the heart go
always be around
broken head
what can i tell you
not what i'm told to
over and over
breaking the promises
broken ego
started and finished
where does the heart go
away from strangers
where does the head go
old forgotten places
broken heart
how the freedom of flight in black night screams so perfectly out of the folds in each crease of the blanket of stars reaching its silken arms above me and stretching until it meets with all four corners of the sea below me, my eyes peeled wide open, mouth like a sailor, how many sirens could sing me to sleep? on a stage, in the ceiling, peeling out of a wrapper, unfurling like some wild apparition of a song i had heard once before in the throes of my youth, but the size of it is all too large and it wraps those silken arms around me, then bends itself inwards until i'm inside out and every single word is the most pristine sound. falling like rain, two yellow lines of a highway twisting upon the slate gray surface like a snake, coiling at the foot of a mirror, on the rooftops, in the walls, ripping out of an envelope, unwinding as if it were propelled by the nature of grace itself, in a perfectly calculated motion, and the clouds begin to rattle as the city takes the plunge into the siren's open hands...hands like an opera...my features, black and white, like a piano, slowly regaining color...into red mouth, chalk skin, pupils like the flash of a raven's wing, and my twig legs, planted firmly in the earth...
you can take your pills, but me, i'll take the open sky
1.
Oh! special places and the ever-present
pretentious faces
you are, at times
one and the same.
I can smell it as soon as it
begins to spoil.
forgotten meat, long left alone
those ever-present pretentious faces.
you are not the only one
to feel so alone
so leave me alone
2.
words can feel so invalid and suspicious
suspicions arise at the words i despise
three thousand hits hit all at once
a taste of oblivion, then its done
ten thousand come downs
too many interruptions to reconsider
what it once was at the start
so i turn around
hits in reverse, save the last for the first
words can feel so impolite
and freedom lies in the power of flight
black night
the perfect come down
my dear last days as the globe spins quick
words sometimes they make me sick
with every intention comes the dawn
daybreak in my fragile mind
counting now from time to time
every eggshell i step on seems to crack
three thousand hits
hit like a kiss
and your lips
open ended answers, the distraction
i missed
with every feeble attempt at this
i
saw you in the widening corner
all your angles were turning obtuse
though i tried to stop all of the bleeding
it was simply a bit too profuse
cat and mouse
i'd like to play all day
you see you've only shown me
just what i had expected.
cat and mouse games are child's play
i'd like to think that we are
far much older-
that we've outgrown such follies
PERHAPS I SHOULD
PUT MY HEART WHERE MY MOUTH IS
BEFORE THEY BOTH GO MISSING
(don't waste all of your strings)
me, the end
all the green
and your casual lack of concern
brings the bottom fairly close
to all that sits above
i just had to show my utmost care
in giving you what you deserve
telephone calls just make it
uglier
yesterday said that the
time wasn't right
devotion
maybe i'm over being loyal
maybe you can't hold
my ever-waning attentinon
its obvious, though
that the limit's been burned
me, the end
all that green
and your casual lack of concern
i can't make up my mind
once i have what i've
always wanted
i just toss it back
into the green
All My Friends Are Killers.
sometimes I think that every new party’s gonna save me
sitting in the bath when the bouncer calls, he asks me
where’d you run off to last weekend
are you gonna come tonight
love makes me sick so I wonder why they wanna touch me
my hands bloody red like the
rings around my eyes
the sun hates the sky so give me every last drop ‘til it comes
.. ..
all my friends are killers
.. ..
all my lovers are fake, they just want to own me
and stick their hands up my shirt, unbutton my pants and
have their way
all my boyfriends aren’t there
put the cash on the counter and buy me, bit by bit
it doesn’t work, love makes me sick
.. ..
and those lines cut up on the counter top aren’t even real drugs
all the drugs were done years ago
there’s none left, my arms are empty like the
weight of my head
the water is warm and my legs are so white
his voice on the phone makes me laugh like a little girl
or a woman with a gun up her skirt
.. ..
all my days are sedatives
.. ..
the ingredients aren’t right, they just form a clot
I couldn’t admit that he broke my heart
now every time they try to get inside me it simply forms a wedge
between my thighs and the door
all my lovers wanna stick their knife in me
when I say no they tell me it makes them want it more
they say I should just lay down
and try to take it like a man
end up
bleeding out
.. ..
there’s exceptions to the golden rules
drank until I couldn’t talk and added some
fast food and smoke,
in the earliest morning the moon swings on its noose, high
the bouncer wore a silver suit-
every new party’s gonna save me
all my lovers make me wanna die
all my dreams are lucid ones
.. ..
the static’s a crime
every face is a new one, you’re perfect
my legs spread open wide
the first time it ends is the next since the last
and now this is the part in the sex where I laugh
each bartender has a crooked smile
your fur coat reminds of me running fast
I’m on my couch in oblivion just wishing that
he was pushing me
.. ..
in the house its not safe
on the street its okay
freedom’s so big that it
makes me come
hard
is it the reason that i'm home?
how many places could i have
called home
and the very thing that is the
sense of home
could that be you?
there were so many
cities
making up the fibers of my
roads and highways that we
drove so many times
i've gone there before
and empty old times i recognize
still the same presence on the block
how pretend
i could pretend i'm pretty
while i sit with the window
rolled down
pretty is always the perfect fake
pretty is their intentional fate
LOS ANGELES
why would you spend your time looking for needles
just one time could be the only time left you just
avoid the twist of fate and let the time eat your days eat the time
I HATE WASHED UP LEFTOVER CELEBRITIES
HOW DO THEY SURVIVE ALL THESE RERUNS?
REALITY TELEVISION GAME SHOW CHALLENGES
YOU JUST KEEP PAYING FOR THEIR FOLLIES
how many times can acid be the answer
its so much easier to just have someone do it for you
but what if someone else says that its time for you to learn
it is the alternate
so much time. slow glow
i follow the trails of color
how many individual strands?
so many immaculate
this could be the catharsis
i feel it to be so
compound images lead us
to the center of a circle
how perfect the times
there is something i love
about sugar
black pools distract me from daylight
too many nights i have spent in disguise
and the times that i knew it was done
are the ones i so readily hide
its my skin i'm not willing to part with
each pore as a
piece of a
whole and
your eyes!
pierce right through
pin me down like a
paperclip
bent in all
kinds of directions
you hit all at once
its such fun
how the force knocks me down
how those black pools distract me from daylight
eyeing me through the
casual dawn
the blank day
WHERE DID THE DOPE MAN GO?
DOPE MAN YOU ARE THE EVER PRESENT
ARE THE SOUNDS TOO GOOD? ITS SICK
TOMORROW'S THE OPEN CUT ON THE
ten thousand times
over and again
never shallow
sometimes it just
eats me alive
open and mellow
cancer forlorn
today you might
swallow me whole
pretty in tangles
knots in the strands
maybe we should
tie the loose ends
until the next
big thing begins
kill the old news
open and close
my black eyes
what a benign
disease it is
what a design
to reckon with