Just told her Valentine's Day won't have no booze

no booze on valentine's
anyway you said it was a dumb thing.

'commercial way of life',
so let's not let these business people get away with it.

i'd really like to be with you without us drunk.
so that once in my life, i'd be able to share

what i'm like when i'm not entirely gone.

(for example, when i'm entirely here!)

the retina of the jedi

after the car crash i was in
i walked home on my two hands
then came walking back with
some strangeness, and you were ok with it. (okay?)

I don't know what that's all about,
it just stings and burns!!!

I've felt the aftertaste after
the professionals have come about.

.

Now you think that I lie like this. But you lie like that, too.

We should refrain from talking about how much we love all of you.

Happy New Year. Then suddenly, all of the pens in the universe were discarded.

A man was playing Grand Theft Auto #5 (the fifth of one of these), and he had a mission to drive a bike somewhere to safety.

His motorcyle was like a pen, peeing while driving along all those roads, and it was discarded in the middle of his mission.

The man was left to stare into his joypad.

Meanwhile, others were getting out of their secluded areas and their bounties of alcohol.

"I need to sign a check, dammit" somebody's voice could be heard. "But I don't have my pen!"


In a rural area, where mountains may have been sketched, pens were removed from those who appreciated the mountains. They simply became tofu, and the people assigned to them simply ate them before realizing they had just eaten their last pens.


Then suddenly, only biros returned to their world.


A lot of people complained, but there was no place or person to complain to or at. Many of them had to learn how to deal with biros.

do the buzzard circle if you are a real witch, bitch

at yourself till your neck diagonally itches,
finally find a shower with a buncha well-dressed babes,
and then your remarkable appreciation of beauty is set aflame.

flying down the highway as a ghost with the haunted guitar
there's a spook that the paranormal hasn't been spooked enough yet by
my oh my isn't it so fly or dry or other easily misaligned lyre?

mezzanine tie-dyes

what could possibly blow my eyes out of their asshole sockets?
besides trying to hold my breath while pondering the infinite future?
usually i have a lot more control over myself than this,
yeah bebeh. 

but now...you've obtained the full remote control of me.

bodily fatigue, and how good train systems can avoid it. originally titled: "you inability to cope with my awesomeness"

The train attempted its arrival at the subway stop.

We both stood well apart from the platform, none too eager to find out exact moments of the train's arrival against the curvature of its tunnel.

A lot of people were looking. They were wondering why the train was not yet there, or why it wasn't opening its doors to let them in yet, so that they could finally go home.

All they wanted to do was finally go home.

So they looked into the curvey tunnel, and that was the best way for them to spend their time. Leaning against the curve of the tunnel.

...

There are stories about how the MTA steals money from metrocards over swipes. One minute you have $38.50, next minute you are asked to swipe again. Now you have $17.24.

Seriously, people should pay more attention to that.

...

There is some boring ass shit plastered all over the train stations by some commercial interests, I think. And there is some equally boring ass shit graffiti. There's tired ideas like "omg wake up", or "u don't kno whats happening".

"Supernatural" posters get their eyes colored in.

The F train arrives. The doors open. Suddenly, I am flung into the train by an invisible handle!

There, I get pushed into paying more than I should for my train ride.

let's go so back

"can we...can we just go a little back?"

asked someone, who didn't want to really go all the way back.

"no," he said. "I need us to go really to the end of the past."

"but vhy?" asked another vampire.

it was one of the veghan vamphires, and never even ate food.

"you're getting crusty," noted an eyebrow demon, who personally disliked his association with all these mental or social lepers.

.

"Guys, guys," I laughed a little at my eyebrow. I felt guilty because I had run out of whiskey.
"I may end up parched in the morning," I told them. "Just saying. I don't want to leave any of you in sorrow."

"Keep us festered in description that ye may be more than a flitting lass to us," said someone, then, who was serious.

I turned my gaze at the voice. "Have you heard of the Gaze, young Throat-Strafer?" I asked.

Then the songs began, and they were overwhelming. They were not my songs, but they were the songs of the people around me.

Never being one who inspires sorrow, I began to dance with them. And I listened to their words as they danced with me.

in an alternate reality i paint my fingernails black

because i believe the visuals drawn would be distinctive.
i have an eyeball named gozer from when i was a child
whom i've had about since not-gozer was scratched out.

many theories try to find my mind,
i direct them to my tongue and fork them up.
salty little tasties, every one,
all the mignon theories.

i wear neon blue shoelaces over brown dress shoes.
to meetings, with people, but nobody notices.
all they see, like little babies with undeveloped eyesight
is the nose.

noose! quietly they then gather around to hang me,
for being an entertainment type of man.
"Make sure he doesn't escape!" whispers a cowled leader.
"Moo!" I cry aloud, waking the neighbors, "Moo!"

The cowls run away, quietly,
leaving me to my own nooses and devices.
I start to name each black fingernail to give them voice,
see what they think of the noose.