The Number Twelve Looks Like You

When you hold your hand and cry apologies, all I can hear is the train bell ringing "All aboard".
The trains begin tugging.
I love knowing that when you kiss your child, that my dick filled the same pussy walls it came from.
I don't I don't I don't agree to dis dis dis disagree.
Smell the dick on the kid.
You pulled me in to feel my touch, I hear your torso giving up, I'll never forget the way you hugged, flaps of flesh hanging at the ends of your body, bones and muscles skipping along the tracks, they're falling out part by part... what a disgusting mess you are inside.
The trains pick up speed and are no longer in sight, happy to have company.
Lying naked with her legs spread open was the last time I saw that much of someone's insides.
I close the night off with a dance along the tracks


2. El Pinata De La Muerte

Remember my face dirty man?
Smack me with a frying pan, maybe this will all come back to you.
You gave me a fever a long time ago, I never got better.
Remember me yet?
This is where I celebrate my recovery.
I'll find creative ways to strip your body parts and use them as weapons of torture, my mother will be proud.
Maybe you can appreciate this saw created with your nails, use it to cut off your lips and stuff them in your nostrils, empty my bladder into your dirty mouth.
Gargle my fluid.
Hum you and old tune while we dismember your legs.
Hung upside down by your waist... I blindfold myself with the skin of your thigh, ...spin 5 times... and use your leg to swing at you like a pinata.
You explode the remedy all over me.
My fever is gone and so are you


3. Jay Walking Backwards

Their arms frantically tossed through the air.
While his hands were together reciting a prayer.
Jesus my lord, don't take this good man, just let him finish what you began.
Stop covering this pavement with his blood, can you hear me, can you hear me?
The cameras start to roll now everyone can see.
To feed his family caused someone else to be taken from theirs.
It's head is now one with the pavement, and it's hiding behind the flares.
Time for heaven, or is it back to the shelter.
Well lying inside of a coffin is always going to be a warm temperature.
Naked and damned, the load is trapped and rolled away.
Midnight appetite, sirens silent.
Did you know that pedestrians always have the right of way?
Their lives came together when they danced in the street, it's really unexpected how some people meet.
One's lying in the street, the other sits in a back seat, and another relationship is then complete


4. Grandfather

There has never ever been a dull moment - we can kiss the highest clouds and name them after movie stars.
Your fingers, they're flower pots.
And as the cuticles crack the stem comes through, you'll never know a poet's eyes unless you see them for yourself.
Hear me now.
After the truth is found there will be a suicide.
Hear me now and grant my wishes as sins, not ignorance.
Endangered now, with pockets full of oil.
All I have left is a face fucking, homicidal waste of time.
Take these roads and take them fast.
My legs collapse in harmony with the music and I plummet down forever.
I can write the dialogue to a script about your death.
I'm walking across 2nd Avenue... I'm tripping across Lexington... I'm falling down Park Avenue... and dying on Broadway.
We can wish amongst wish, hope against hope.
You have become a new bloody valentine.
Over and over again, I've watched you killing yourself.
Hold my hand, let's start the decay.
One shot in the mouth.
You'll never know a poet's eyes unless you see them for yourself


5. Alright, I Admit... It Was A Whore House

The path has changed so much over the years.
No reason to fret, just turn around and walk away.
The glass of wine and the plate of overcooked food burnt too long. ...Paranoid about a fuck me dress.
Relishing in memories, twisting like fate.
It's only a matter of time before this is destroyed.
The bridges are too low to duck under and the fenced in possibilities seem too dark to see without candlelight.
Because years have passed, visions have also.
Down under there's a devil, and no one notices.
Above us are clouds that swing and hang down over a small town.
Obstruction of vision is nullified by the elevation of the seats.
An orchestra pit down under like Australia that catches fire from a match.
The path has changed so much over the years.
Slimy, sticky leaves cling like leaches.
No reason to fret, just turn around and walk away.
The glass of wine and the plate of overcooked food.
I'll never run away again.
I missed this


6. Paper Weight Pigs

Stand Clear of the closing doors.
Punch in your sleazy dignity.
It's almost time to eyeball those interns.
Eight hours of conference calls.
(One) eight hours of brown nosing.
(One, two) eight hours of boardrooms.
(One, two, three) eight balls of white godliness.
Put down the pen paperweight pig.
Insatiable wants and greed.
Put down the pen paperweight pig.
Hang your head for what you lead.
The weekends are the only time I really live.
The cancer lies within us all.
They can't whisper when they wanna scream.
They can't work as a team.
When they wanna be covered in whipped cream.
Kiss your wife, not that intern.
Corporate world has no u-turn.
If you applied, then just don't return.
Business mastercards used for lapdances.
Money under the table for congressmen.
For those broken environment regulations.
Anything is possible in the corporate world.
Million dollar compensation for executives.
While posting billion dollar quarter loses.
Trapped in a cubical I'm throwing a party in my head.
It's all meaningless


7. Sleeping With The Fishes, See?

Take my picture I want to have proof of this history, I want the lake in the back and all this beauty in my heart, they like to hide in the marsh.
Like a child on a tire swing, they swoop in on an arch to brush the fish home.
Dinner is served to the younger, the late bloomers lay their eggs, and they all sway to the music of the brushing weeds.
I want to conserve, I want to protect, I want to defend, we have to preserve.
How can I help before this will end?
The bees need to stay busy... butterfly wings need to keep the flowers in motion... the trail needs to stay warm... so you stay away from their home.
You and everyone like you are selfish destroyers, and I'll be just as selfish when i don't give you back.
One drill through your heart, two chisels in your eyes, three nails to crucify you.
I will turn your project to news headlines


8. Cradle In The Crater

We all thought the same, it was going to be okay, thankful for my clean brain.
Scratched my head, felt the dandruff piling up underneath my fingernails.
Thankful for my clean brain.
He's just a boy, flying to space in a cardboard box, sleeping on the moon in his dreams.
Fly your flag forever, don't let anything stop you.
Cancers don't grow, and there is no such word as suffering.
Next time you fall asleep, look down on us at earth and realize that it may be better to forever count sheep.
You're the captain of your ship and star.
For today you will shine and be impervious to pain, we have all admired your bravery.
With boots tied and chin up, we watch you fly away.
Through stormy weather - hold your ground.
Keeping your eyes fixed on the prize.
This must have been God's mistake, and correction by giving you eternal life.
So young, but in good hands, the strength of 100 armies, to keep your evils at bay.
Just keep walking and keep flying... and never give up


9. The Weekly Wars

I am my own killing moon
The hunter and the prey
A baptism in dirty water
Escaped from th e crucifix
But still carry the weight
A baptism in dirty water
These impure thoughts lead to soulless action
And the cycle continues
Furthered by the thought of a confused soul
A man with no release
Concerned by his own thoughts
Slowing the rotation of the cogs and the gears
A halting machine
A haunting disease
A man with no release


10. The Try (Thank You)

Immersion in the wrong sorts.
This is my manifesto.
Tingly body.
Mind sunk deep within.
An arbitrary conversation.
Looking, seeing and feeling the wrongs.
A simplified overcoming of stature and belonging.
Nevermore, this overcompensated disillusion of downtime and no time of babbling.
I will set aside and overcome, with suds of porter in hand.
A mild-mannered genius has come to save me.
I seem to rise as morning draws near.
Pushing through fields of tracks (green and alive).
The dew draws close to my hung down body, feeling alone, but in the comfort of friends.
If I drew this close to perfection, every moment I would be the field and I would be the green.
A conflict of mind and matter.
I would live in harmony beside you.
But never alone