tiny style

light up the night
with my
tiny style

light up the night
with my
tiny style

light up the night
with my
tiny style

light it up
...
light it up
(freeze. ice cream break.)

post-martyrdom depression

i accept these terms of service
ill wear the cross-shaped backpack
and the backpack-shaped cross
ive always been a glutton for punishment

shh!
i can faintly hear the dainty tears
of a runaway child bride
the footsteps on bubble wrap, shes slowly escaping...
creeping down the steps
dads like me never get invited to the kinds of parties shes running off to
i guess thats par for the public course

if i could do it all over again
i would do it exactly the same way
i did it
again
and again
until i regain
some kind of reagan-esque respect
for my most circumspect aspects

but anywise
if i may generalize, in a most general sense
i would order my troops to travel to the UCLA medical hospital morgue
to resurrect the corpse of michael jackson
reanimate him in a top secret government lab in my mothers basement
and force him to thoroughly explain to the fundits of tomorrow
the scope of his influence and musical genius
and why dancing in the flying v formation
is more relevant than any of emilio estevez's contributions to mankind

jazzy beef, the adorable motherfucker i never liked

some righteous playing by a jazzy great,
right?
one day
you will see me in the light

its the sex that youre not having, mother
motherfucker
fucker of mothers, conceiver of brothers,
that inbred sense of self righteous indignation
tarnation!
when will people ever learn
to learn to love the love they learned a long time ago
they could learn to live without

it may have seemed like a good idea at the time
before i changed my mind
perhaps
our schedules will overlap
and we'll have nothing but time
to kill
to stroke, and suck, and swallow our pills
and watch each other pay our bills
ive never liked this city

contemplate the contempt with which
one has been taught to resent the present
i had a dream about a red panda
it was adorable
but you wont see that on the five o'clock news
will you?

do you think im pretty?
yes, oh my god, hunny you are so gorgeous
im not handsome like the others, im a homely strumpet for certain
no, sweetie, really, youre prettier than me
you are not just saying that, are you?
no, darling, you are most beautiful girl of town

he grieves with little provocation, one might say
good grief
this whole sentiment smells like
roast beef
the porn star name i never used...

greasy wet gold lust

shes the kind of kind kindling that
kind of
feels
nice

you know,
the kind of kindhearted kindergartner
that, while grounded, kindly grinds
and whispers
and sneaks peeks daintily through
the stained glass mausoleum
of your pyramid-scheming,
gold-lusting nipple vesicles
those greasy wet chest testicles
the bladder-like, fluid filled sac
of pustular mischief
that turned my stern taciturn silence
into green, green ambient noises
punctuated by harp strings and echoing sines

ill admit it
i dont get it
any of it, at all
ive been walking from one gallery to the next
nodding my head in agreement
all the while stalling for time
trying to think of something to say
or do
and nothing comes out
i have nothing to offer at this very moment
because im just not feeling it
it being this
and this being whatever this is

practice the half-smile in the lotus position, or dont

as the scene is set
its golden, shimmering
gleams and sweats

it seems
as it has before
that these days weve all got a case of the
nosy neighbors
but you must have seen something you liked
right?

and the eventual response,
'the blueishness of it all...
startling, startles me'
the answer, of couse, positive smoke

if you must know, our son
is an absolute embarrassment
she lights a cigarette for some reason
he just wants to shimmer so hard
it makes my head spin!
snorkeling in my bathwater?
not under my skylight

keep it velveteen
honey bean
hes under the spell of a foxy piece of
shit and
your legwarmers are getting hot
enough to turn yourself into
your heaviest
self
ever

nowadays
you know?
its just not the same as
it used to seem

upon her exit, she spits the butt onto the carpet
and whispers
if everyone would just learn to suffer
with a little more style and grace
i would feel so much better
about my own
face

Faux-Scientific/Spiritual Musings Vol. 1

This dying star is about to collapse in on itself
Anything that falls inside the event horizon
Will get sucked and fucked
Into the singularity

Now I'm seeing multiple images of the same star
As I fuse elements
And produce energy
And hum to myself
And think about Roxanne and Hawaii
And my leg hurts

I'm still trying to find that spark
That made me fall in love with myself
All those years ago
And even though I'm turning gray in various ways
I'm still content 12% of the time
And I understand that's a significant ratio

I read a comment on youtube once
"It's gay to want to be happy all the time"

fresh guilty skeleton confessions

i dont want anything to change
ever
i just want everything to stay the same
forever

i want to travel back in time
to the set of the pilot episode
of home improvement

i want to be married
to my own constipated sense
of self righteous indignation
on the same day
they finally bury
my fresh guilty skeletons
the disguise ive worn
on too many doorsteps
on too many halloweens

itll be a closed casket ceremony
my humility rotting away
inside of a costco coffin

but all things must come to pass
or something like that
ive never been much for mottos or mantras
but i feel a chant coming on

dear jesus
please believe us
we've done the best we can
and if you believe that
ive got some literature
you might be interested in

monday 11:24

i thought i was going to be sad forever
but since ive learned it isnt real
its become more of a pastime, really

on one hand, its freeing
to know that ones misery
is their own miserable responsibility
on the other hand
thats a lot of responsibility

i wish someone could make these decisions for me
but therein lies the problem

if i could only
think
if i were better
i could

ill do my best
but thats impossible, isnt it
laziness is the antithesis of love
they say
and i am a very lazy man
but thats hardly unique

stop.
theres another way to think
about everything
every situation
can be analyzed from a more comfortable position
just shift your weight
in such a way
that you feel
like yourself
again

mastercrastination

i might have made a hell of a woman one day
but youre not supposed to say that sort of thing
out loud
or on paper
unless youre a scouting kind of girl
who sells the sweetest cookies
to the loneliest of men

i might have made a hell of a lumberjack
but with all these allergies
im better classified as more of an indoors kind of handyman
but with all this claustrophobia
its getting awfully difficult
to be agoraphobic these days

i might have made a hell of a man one day
i may still make something of myself
or i might shout at these yellow walls
i see in my peripheral vision
until my eyes bleed
and the yellow turns brown

i might pretend everybody hates me
its spring, so there are plenty of driveway worms

i might wish i were someone else
shaq
or ralph nader

i might have just heard gunshots outside of my apartment
but im from the suburbs
they were probably just fireworks

i might be the greatest thing that ever happened to my life
since my mom sliced me my first slice
of bread

or i might be the physical manifestation
of a buzzword
that didnt make any sense in the first place
and was probably misused, misheard
or misquoted
by some dork
named weric edgework

work...
hmm...

the old timers called it cabin fever

oh so smooth
pet the fur
that
feels like
it should have
been
so...
super cool

i am calm!
im perfectly calm!
im perfectly perfect
having previously perfected the art
of perpetrating perfection
perfectly
in all directions

you think you know me steve?
you dont know shit
you wouldnt know shit if you tasted it
you wouldnt know love
if it hit you on the back of the neck
and slid down the small of your back
into your sweats

i want to hold you so close
i want to put love into everything i do
i want a lot of things all at once
i do
and sometimes
it just
doesnt
seem like
the right thing
to do
to you

ive only got a few more minutes left,
relatively speaking
and relatively speaking
its all relative

you know?
you dont?
or you do?
you do or you dont?

you are something
but not something else
thats a special label that i reserve
but relatively speaking, you are
so here we are
back at the start

i wonder whats on tv...