hmm, I got loud there
didn't i? well doth
i am a same plotz

i think it just sounds
a lot like those professional
wrestler monologues
sometimes only with
more erudite language
you can be good poets
with insight but one
needs to be cautious of
anyone who calls
anyone else a poseur
because they are often
hypocrites or failed artists

one truth
failed artists make
the loudest critics

i've dealt with the kings
of college, unhappy but
the lie is that I

buy into their self
placed godhood, and ignore my
own ideals and thoughts

distracted by the
urge to kill, correct, humble
all the self same wrong

and i with logs in
my eyes, condemned to lash out
at the useless pride

the elite write shit
that provokes the stand of pride
and makes me wish to

sit on the throne and
cast the assholes down into hell's
eternal humbling

the elite often and
when overthrown heads roll down
replaced, new elite

exclusive clubs are
often challenged by other
schools of thought, excess

the exclusive club
is the abode of purists
and nazis my dear

burrowing inward
i exhume gauze from my skull
and reveal a void

i count upon ash
to reduce poseurs to form
pardon my pretense

ashen residue
'neath absinthe soaked sugarcube
holy shite! my head

so okay maybe
as ifs, oh nos and how sos
so what do you know

Girl, 15
Charming but insane
Unable to stop worrying
Embarasses easily
Trys to escape
Fear, overwhelming
No need to stop
And catch her breath
When is Grips her heart



Lonely Soul

mops of flaxen hair
wonderfully sounding toy
piano lessons

Bill Miller confused
Glib traders rejoiced brightly
Legg Mason whispered

Martingale great
Thick head tells Bill: Double Down
Fannie! Freddie! Die!

all philosophy
pretentiously reflected
is narcissistic

disconcertingly
between the gaps in my life
are large absences

wormwood soaked stumble
a ghost haunts ivory tower
pot calls for kettle

As days grow shorter
I begin my abscission
start with toes this year

piss on the textbooks
wring the ink into a well
and dip your own quill

who could find a shit
within their capacity
to give? Moses pure.

for those who know these
try: Boito, or Leyner
Maxine Hong Kingston

some obscurantists
prefer Barthelme or Breuer
Castaneda, Hume

no one is impressed
with schrodinger, or umlaut
freshman references

umlaut squashed the first
gah a bloody A left in
hasty worse than bad

take Schrodinger's fist
the debauchery exists
in a paradox box

take Schr

quiet knowing smile
touched her unlike others have
least like to think so

Soft beautiful Ducks
Survives in the freezing snow
But killed by Humans

don't forget to laugh
at the people you step on
as you climb higher

whats a drone to do
luscious flowers everywhere
honey wrestling too

my life is mundane
and i hardly write haiku
where's the fun in that ?

these r bad poems
and drunken release, malaise
torrid surcease, haze.

christ in handbasket
evil in harbor, velour
a brand new jacket

horrid posts galore
morbid homos dig for gore
sing refuse and more

wretched poseurs stand
against perfidy and shame
find mistake and blame

Gone for way too long
On a journey to no where.
Home is not too bad.

smiling bright green eyes
boring patrons surround us
this bar well tended

Zombies don't despair
They only wander around
bugs nesting in hair

i was scared today
open water swim panic
but there was no need

communication
what can you expect from nerds ?
lots of acronyms

delicious nature
a baby cow's death juices
dribbling down my chin

Nature sketches Winter
With Pen and Ink
Sharp and Clear and Fine

Nature draws Spring
In Pastel Chalk
Forsynthia against a Wall

Nature paints Summer
In slender Watercolors
Pure and Clear

Nature works Autumn
In fat,thick Oils
Brilliant,Twining, and Vining

Altogether- Nature's Paintbox

moronic fissure
an imbecilic ravine
dimwitted crevice

walking through stone land
chanced upon a long gone friend
discovered my death

the gods of thunder
lightning cracks a child jumps
this one is in VAIN

sun baked paving stone,
a cat purrs invitingly -
the girls in short skirts

to temper oneself
clear mind wakes ancient soul
demons find no perch

to those who pay their
dues to the demons one word
the cost, life of fear