LEFTOVERS

Black Friday
Dirty Gravy
Dark Meat
Broken Spun
Over Done
Past Due
Running Out of Reality
Second By Second...
Nothing Other

it's funny how they promise a better
world if elected but in reality they
stick us with another fucking library
filled with goofy lies and ridiculous
artifice in a revision of history that
never happened...

Zero Point
Absolutely Me

it seems like you've got something
to prove but no one to prove it to...

Good Brew
Liquid Trance

I prefer boozing in solitude because
imbibing alcohol is an original sacred
ritual meant for transcending illusions
of the world and accessing true self
much like taking yage and peyote or
waking the mind through prolonged
sessions of extreme meditation...

Modern Perversion
Autonomous Moods

"that this is the gift
and I am ill with it;
it has sloshed around my bones
and brings me awake to
stare at walls.

musing often leads to madness,
o dog with an
old rag doll.

into and beyond terror.
seriousness will not do,
seriousness is gone:
we must carve from
fresh marble.

hell, jack, this is wise-time:
we must insist on camouflage,
they taught us that;
wine come down through
staring eye,
god coughed alive
through the indistinct smoke
of verse.

the light yellow mamas are gone.
the garter high on the leg,
the charm of 18 is 80.
and the kisses, snakes darting
liquid silver have stopped:
no man lives the magic long.

until one morning it catches you;
you light the fire,
pour a hasty drink as the psyche
crawls like a mouse into an empty
pantry.

if you were El Greco
or even a watersnake
something could be done.

another drink.
well, rub your hands and prove
you are still alive.
walk the floor. seriousness will
not do.

this is the gift,
this is the gift...
certainly the charm of dying lies
in the fact that very little
is lost."

Bukowski, The Gift

WASTED

if it weren't for the void within each and everyone of us what would the inter-network connect to from snub to snog it's all been pre-conceived choreographed by the masters of illusion responsible for circulation of empty information a virtual shangri-la in google we trust truth be told I should've been gone two weeks ago but I've put my extended life on my credit card holding at 7.24% APR and I can always flaunt bankruptcy try collecting anything from me when I'm floating face down below Big Sur spoken ocean imagining a space between Bogart & Hitchcock the good old days of white lies dead flies black ties and dark skies we've seen the picture from a rear view mirror just in time for a Walter Cronkite news bulletin smile as if Kennedy had expected what was about to happen envisioned it coming out of Cuba Israel Moscow Khrushchev bathing in butter fried foie gras and human caviar blessed by the holy hammer & sickle one in the nose sticks and stones may break my bones but names tickle my balls one in the gut the other in the Bible is not without value but isn't it funny that it is taken word for word literally by the most illiterate among us why learn how to read when its so much easier to be deceived? "I'm pretty sure I can hear someone screaming in the house next to ours down the canyon and I close my window. I can also hear the dog barking out in back and KROQ is playing old Doors songs and War of the Worlds is on channel thirteen and I switch it to some religious program where the preacher is yelling 'Let God use you. God wants to use you. Lie back and let him use you, use you.' 'Lie back' he keeps chanting. 'Use you, use you.' I'm drinking gin and melted ice in bed and imagine that I can hear someone breaking in. But Daniel says over the phone that it's probably my sisters getting something to drink. It's hard to believe Daniel tonight; on the news I hear there were four people beaten to death in the hills last night and I stay up most of the night looking out the window staring into the backyard looking for werewolves."

Easton Ellis, Less Than Zero

END UP 3

not so much the stuff of Shakespeare
Baudelaire
Whitman
Pound
Elliot
or even Keats

no my friends this isn't poetry -
this is street rag:

the gritty stuff of back roads and
empty alleys where night meets
darkness and quiet souls wreaking
havoc amongst battered shadows
like sheep being led to slaughter
choking on laughter -

it's a bad world
it's a mad world
we create and sustain if for but to
ask forgiveness from some oddly
absent deity who remains distant
until at last Judgement Day -

as always as it is this world we live
you must be nuts not to think of it
crazy such every aspect has been
contaminated with mutated forms
of synthetic energy passed around
like fallout in a windstorm flooding
consciousness with impossible hope
dead dreams lingering upon metallic
sky a new conspiracy theory trilogy
spliced and re-engineered before the
beginning of Time "When a growing
individual finds that he is destined to
remain a child forever, that he cannot
do without protection against strange
superior powers he lends the powers
the features belonging to the figure of
his father; he creates for himself gods
whom he dreads, whom he seeks to
propitiate and whom he nevertheless
entrusts with his own protection. Thus
his longing for a father is the motive
identical with his need for protection
against the consequences of his own
human weakness. The defense against
childish helplessness is what lends its
characteristic features to the adult's
reaction to the helplessness which he
has to acknowledge- a reaction which
is precisely the formation of religion."

Freud, The Future Of An Illusion

END UP 2

AFTER that big old sun takes a
load off going totally bogus plus
terminator x it -

there are so many other things to
remember after all is said and done
but not right now-

some one ought to make the point
what it don't isn't a matter anymore
than if history lived in a broken tea
kettle -

time has a bit up its sleeve yet most
won't know about that until the end
damn near begins again -

my face done gone made itself a
freckle today and I'm surprised by
the way it makes me realize it  "In
the first place I'm sort of an atheist.
I like Jesus and all but I don't care
too much for most of the other stuff
in the Bible. Take the Disciples for
instance. They annoy the hell out
of me if you want to know the truth.
They were all right after Jesus was
dead and all but while He was alive
they were about as much use to him
as a hole in the head. All they did was
keep letting him down. I like almost
anybody in the Bible better than the
Disciples. If you want to know the
truth the guy I like best in the Bible
next to Jesus was the lunatic and all
that lived in tombs and kept cutting
himself with stones. I like him ten
times as much as the Disciples that
poor bastard."

Salinger, The Catcher In The Rye

END UP 1

snow is so like cold the
coldest there is

and just try to eat some
some day and freeze
your stomach off

kick in the punch trust
your fingers like in a
trapeze act on fire

just the opposite forces
of what the fuck are you
talking about

talking about drawing a
line in the sand forever

another 2nd Level initial
anti glucose coma dealing
migraine inside split mind
reverberations unlimited

to a sound revolution of
an underground unified
clam song I've seen pussy
like that sing a beautiful
tune excuse me if

empire of worms ants or
other forms of whatever
God wants

dead Uncles who fought
in the War

I'd like to thank Hello Ms?
I'd like to thank all of you
those of who I've known in
one method from many or
nothing really important

I've been privy to where
the words in front of your
mouth originate and their
inevitable destiny

the God they talk about and
words they want to believe
above all else
the faith of their imaginations
fails to realize what is most
obvious
they God the talk about is a
power within made actual
released into the light of the
world from without

a level of self excluded and
abandoned discarded by the
truth accepted amongst the
masses

which is why it's bad luck
to pass gas at an ashtray...

MIND X

to create nonsense in such an honest way as to appear as real as truth in order to compel the mind to see through the illusion of assumptions it has accepted of Reality and redefine each element by its opposite essence if but for no other reason then to reverse the trend of being demented before Time decides Never lasts longer than Forever seems like a dream caught in a bottle or an unsanctioned orgy of monks and nuns full throttle not sure what something like that should be rated I mean who can say for sure which came first walking it back from the edge of the end to a permanent distance of instant resistance against the coordinated hoax of historical reference just as Nietzsche discovered and declared "God is Dead" I'm here to deliver the poison tonic spider bite unholy venom to kill the Bible drive a fang inside the skin rip the soul and destroy the Source of original guilt and shame that hangs like a toxic fog above humanity's claim that immortality is a bit overrated given the fact it doesn't exist whether or not it can be proven anyone with a touch of common sense will tell the difference between believing and seeing feels like what watching porn is to cracking nasty eat the pink ring albeit far from me to suggest how one goes about releasing the king within embracing the savior reflected in mirrors Eternity + Now = 1 more thing to consider "It is only through the influence of individuals who can set an example and whom masses recognize as their leaders that they can be induced to perform the work and undergo the renunciations on which the existence of civilization depends. All is well if these leaders are persons who possess superior insight into the necessities of life and who have risen to the height of mastering their own instinctual wishes. But there is a danger that in order not to lose their influence they may give way to the masses more than it gives way to them and it therefore seems necessary that they shall be independent of the mass by having means to power at their disposal. To put it briefly, there are two widespread human characteristics which are responsible for the fact that the regulations of civilization can only be maintained by a certain degree of coercion - namely, that men are not spontaneously fond of work and that arguments are of no avail against their passions."

Freud, The Future Of An Illusion

THE ANTI - SIGN

or acid on Kafka words of fury blazing a path through sleeping dreaming invisible souls awaiting to be taken home luck has nothing to do with it just ask Bukowski whiskey and water once and for all sounds like taking out the garbage when no one else is around to confirm or deny your whereabouts at the time it all went down head butt lock and load 4 weeks 3 weeks less than I care to count or dare to remember up against Father Clock Mother Sun Sister Moon never stop to consider what are the odds of lightning striking the same place twice in a world when everything is so impossibly real postpone the announcement to the media to be determined as soon as new legislation provides an outline suspended expectations will be required by anyone in trouble with the Law a low ball response to high cheese pitch on the money an incomplete recall you might as well dance while you still can the lemon horizon dawning into tangerine as we speak can't say I said that coming back to an unsolicited "I told you so" let's just leave the shift caught between passing epochs recorded in gold leaf and toxic mascara look at a mirror the next chance and try to understand History is an obsolete theme song repeating itself in a vacuum through blind coincidence unguided happenstance and the seemingly innocent yet unobtainable quest for redemption we have all so naively swallowed hook line and sinker "And these men for whom life has no repose live at times in their rare moments of happiness with such strength and indescribable beauty, the spray of their moment's happiness is flung so high an dazzlingly over the wide sea of suffering that the light of it spreading its radiance touches others too with its enchantment. Thus like a precious fleeting foam over the sea of suffering arise all those works of art in which a single individual lifts himself for an hour so high above his personal destiny that his happiness shines like a star and appears to all who see it as something eternal and as a happiness of their own. All these men whatever their deeds and works may be have really no life; that is to say, their lives are not their own and have no form. They are not heroes, artists or thinkers in the same way that other men are judges, doctors, shoemakers or schoolmasters. Their life consists of a perpetual tide, unhappy and torn with pain terrible and meaningless unless one is ready to see its meaning in just those rare experiences, acts, thoughts and works that shine out above the chaos of such a life."

- Hesse, Steppenwolf