Thursday, December 27, 2007



I am

A working class

hero with

nothing to

see (blind or oblivious)

I only know

what is

spoken to me

Something went

terribly wrong in

the world today

and yet who notices

or cares

or sees the affects

and I lay here

Disappointed

Alone

Suffering

Surviving

Dying

Ripped into

particles

That only you

can see

Do you see me floating?

I just went under your

neurons.

You were

suppose to sniff

Now I cannot even

live in your brain

I am stuck in this

weed (not a bad thing)

waiting

on a dog to piss.

Death by squirting

Sunday, December 16, 2007



I have thought of you

the night through

not knowing why

only that my senses are

tingles

splayed open

for your defining

I can see

us at a drum circle

our souls beating

and swaying to the

same rhythm

how cool to be in

a circle

joints going

round and round

long hair braids and beads

Lennon wailing

"Come together"

and we do

and we are

Saturday, December 15, 2007

Homless

I saw the news

the homeless people

and I thought

would they trade places with me?

Debt and regular bills alike

or are they lucky

to be without these worries?

But while I sleep

in my comfortable bed

I know they would too;

as I struggle to pay bills

do they want that burden?

Yes..security

for the unsecure

Do I want to

live in a tent

on the front lawn

of the state building?

No and

nor do they

So why?

I salute these people

with no name

just faces

of hunger and worry

and I wonder

would that be better

than bills and taxes

and the dreaded job?

Who would trade with me?

With all the worry and heartache

that goes along

with being society;

not fighting the man.

Tonight I may

sleep in a tent

just to trade places

and understand the injustices

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Hello and Goodbye

Touching you

Pheromones liberate

Inhaled delightfully.

"Pardon, do I

necessitate your acquaintance?"

"In what way?"

"The way that

I understand all people"

The potential attraction

is crushing

yet we

saunter away

covered in sensation

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Growing up

I have already

Ruined that

rotation I swore

would shatter

The vision came

while tossing in

the sheets that

gnashed my

legs as though

they were

soft snakes

taunting me

He does

not need

love

hugs

my hand

or intellect

I have educated

him in the

pastimes of

Loneliness

Solitude

and the life

of extroverts

My pain and past

is now his

to carry on to the

next generation

like Celtic spirals

spinning without

halting

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

It was not your usual grain-

Spinning brightly, dashes of brown

(Those are life specs)

To whom do I speak, is it the memory keeper?

If I must speak frugally, it was a simple brown.

Lines. Lines of white not so simple

They spread out into the vastness

Teasing the sense of safety

They are the line breakers

Careful as they walk

Watching their back

Timid steps

Into the crack, not over

Are you taking this down?

(Memory keeper?)

Brown. And white. Lines.

Vastness. Safety lurking under the grapevines

Taking away my giggling

And innocence

Back then on the table

Grains far from the truth

And now,

Hiding here on the wiggly time line-
I squirm.

I must remember what good feels like.

Earth odors emaciate my senses,

Thinning

My blood so that I may

Fly without air

Melancholy wine, tendrils of their own

Wrap around me, curling me up

(Please take this down.)

I become pod-like, and safe in my shell.

My breathing takes in all that approaches

Even the white blurs

(Note to the keeper: the following)

Remove the prickly taunts-

Just grab the ant by its legs. It does not belong

This time

(Memory keeper: Life specs)

It was about squeezing what was left-

Wild onion grass underfoot, a bushel of space,

Upside down butterflies,

He loves me, loves me not, I wish I could

Remember. To try. To savor

What was left of adolescence

In memory

Only the sting.

(Was left)

It is later now.

My pinkie nail has grown

filed to a point like a vampire incisor tooth.

The memory keeper is long gone.

My half-life is burning out

but it still fuels the hybrid being that I have become.

The white line blurs within me. I breathe it in.

I have parted, split, broken, and become effused.

The jagged line is there in the middle

between existentialism and aesthetics.

Much later.

I remember spring.

An eruption of shadows, and light.

The fullness inside of me.

Vines that hug skin tight.

And I am whole.

Sunday, August 05, 2007

Mediocrity

One bird on a wire

Not sure if it is genuine

All the cars glimmering

in the sun dry my vision

Where have the old

ones gone? rusty and smoking

Oh I spy them down that

dirty area of urban sprawl

Turning away not looking back

Departing from the genuine people

I go back to the

attractive people

and breathe

Saturday, June 30, 2007

The Great Disposal

She was deceased, my grandmother

Packing was an abominable chore

Brothers deciding

Who would get what

(I already had the 200 yr old table)

Then the scream of horror

Guttural and disgusting

Great uncle Roy screaming

MY name

So I run

And there he stands over

A nightstand drawer

Peering at a simple

Creamy vibrator

Remove it he says!

I stared at the last

Remnants of

Grandma’s youth

And shivered

We found one

In every room

I knew because

There was always

A scream

Thursday, June 07, 2007

My name is Almeda

a whore following the railroad men

across America with a

passel of children at my heels

Skirts pulled up ten times a day

Cum dripping down my leg

All those babies crying

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

FUCKIN WAR

BIRTH

DEATH

LOVE

SECURITY

ALL

GONE

PARENTS

DO NOT SEE

GRADUATIONS

LITTLE GIRLS DO

NOT DANCE ON

DADDIES TOES

WIVES

MASTURBATE

ALONE

MEN JUST

BECOME THINKERS

NOT DARING TO SPEAK

BUT

WHAT DO

WE

BECOME?

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Sitting blindly

Not knowing

The effects

I wait

I yearn

I know better

But the excitement is fun

Ecstatic

Tantalizing

Remember

Your first

Meeting?

Friday, May 04, 2007

"Jockomo feeno ah na nay
Jockomo feena nay"


Living in America

Chaos of life

Nipping my Achilles

It came to me

"Hey now, hey now

IKO IKO all day"

I covered

My face

And

Stopped the

Tears from

Falling


Saturday, April 21, 2007

Where is Kerouac

Where is Kerouac
Holding my hand
Saying let's just
Hit the road
Waning down the Mississippi
Through farms
And fields
And swamps
I need all those
Interesting
ORDINARY
People
Trying to make
It in this
Harsh reality
We call the hum-drum
You know?
The one THEY
Say we can
CHANGE
If only we try



Thursday, March 22, 2007

Soaring above those

Andean peaks

I circle watching

Alpacas graze

Poncho laden men

Mold the fertile earth

I spy cuy

Running to and fro

SWOOSH

Blood drips from my talons

I am condor

*Cuy is a Peruvian guinea pig. It is a delicacy when skinned and roasted

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

I am disconnected

No longer understanding

MY Purpose

Life's purpose

I am not suicidal

I am benign

I am caught

Between

contentment and

melancholy

I have become neutered

I want the passion back

Certainty to coming knocking

With news of my future

I am tired of the what ifs

And the what will be's

Someone told me

That I had no fear

Of GOD

Ergo, happiness

D

I

S

A

P

P

E

A

R

S