should I want to try
to connect to this enclave
of slaves to style...

I will hit enter
i don't care no more
(redneck manifesto)

(real book, read it)

so shall I compile
a list of enemies, nixon
style, shy, removed in

some seculuded place
not knowing how to connect
to shallow liberals?

what will it say on
your stones, here lies an asshole
who drank the best wine

that's funny, I think you
people who go drivel are the
self concious guardians

of culture who ought
die first when the next
real World War hits

pompous, inhumane
and unremoved, not
worth human life anymore

oh shut the fuck up
can't you see the reason I act
like this is the critque?

so blot out the nights
i'll be inventing new stars
until you give in

the refresher course
periodically dished out
optimistic ash

Skipped past half this page
It's self indulgent "BORING"
Except the last two!

thoughtful reflection
studied classical syntax
surely it's not hard ?

again i tell you
that hitting the enter key
doesn't cause haiku

I laugh for I am
easily set off, proving
the "fool" postulate

generalizations
do make an ugly taste but it
did well for hitler

till he shot himself

I don't like passing
hateful judgements, that's not the
real me, I just am...

fearful, paranoid
coming free at last, and to
you a stranger...

yes I know those who
pass judgement are judged in turn
so what's new, politics

as usual

where do you idiots
come from, some hallowed empty
spire of obsolete writing?

hatred consumes for
if it is shallow then you
get what you give back

I would burn all your
books and heil hitler for hate
replaces real time

debate, hatred is
real, i would hate and be a
true being of dark

then a false and bland
aesthetic bowing to the
urbane bullshit of...

well, people so "charming"
so rich, so removed from the
common experience...

I picture myself
hitting him in the face not
once but again and

again, feeling the
rush of intimidation
the vague sense of bland

evil the school yard
bully felt at trashing the boy
with too many books

i laugh at the bland
liberal asshole who calls
my words foolish, I

would tell him babble
on, critics abound like birds
of eating garbage

flocking over some
recent kill, all saying the
same thing, squawk, and shit

each person wanting
desperately to be heard
a crowded bar

an english major,
says the man in the pink shirt.
what's a chanticleer?

a cup of red wine
overturned on my table
party foul! she says

crimson liquid rock
tears apart its silver skin
the trees are burning

crushed and bittersweet
she sighs as her hair fall down
in blue poles of rain

dell, dell, what's that smell ?
just your cred that burns in hell
fix it ? time may tell

that's it, I'll be rich
I'm gonna start farming fish
some Sarpa Salpa

How can I expect
you to keep to rules unknown?
By revealing them.

When you understand
A promise broken twice is
twice as bad-you'll know.

the words are hiding
cannot find them anywhere
somehow that's okay

we fall to vague depths
between all you will not say
and all i can't ask

I resist the urge
His words are crap and stupid
Who will tell the twit?

what, I didn't shave?
the loss of shaving cream the
greatest tragedy

stages of life pass
by the wayside what seemed big
is not years later

I just heard thr word...
whis-key, you know I'm now to
dream of glenlivet...

ah, that's not a bad dream...

closer in meaning
to all the remains throughout
our feet on the ground

what to eat for lunch?
most anything will suffice
as long as it's fried

nice little boobies
all you boys go spank yourselves
you like little boobs

okay i 'm sorry
I gotta go do work now
great big sigh..ho hum

mom forgot to tell
you have a bastard brother
and yeah ..he has tits

hot wax down her back
oooh and ouch.. whats really cool
her sexy pole work

cmon cmon man
put up your dukes and fight like
your momma taught you

fire thrown all about
leaving behind burning trails
just my kind to hike

i've cried all morning
the rejection of this life
my heart black and blue

name the time and place
we'll see what aligns about
i prefer high noon

odor permeates
a crowded elevator
don't look at me, man

trespass forgotten
river of cask strength whiskey
not yet forgiven

the flow of words comes
out and the throwing of arms
in sighs of protest

and I leave for a
bit, come back, see the euro
spiced talk about spain

what about the low
culture, the middlebrow what's
so "low" about it

(sorry, the law died
with Jesus on the Cross)

it's still what it is
I really feel critics don't
think when they speak much

Friends new, old, worldwide!
Facebooks taking on new life
Soon to circle Earth

intoxicating
with addictive potential
the "off-my-facebook"