I’m one-eyed jack and I got poop growing in my stomach that some people call ulcers from years and years of heavy drinking. I got one eye cause my x wife, that bitch, she gawd dam plucked the other one out one night after I passed out, we had bin fighting bout stupid shit, aint it always stupid shit people fight about. She’s fukin dead now. My boys are both in state prisons. One’s in Alabama, the other fuk up is in san Quentin. I tried to raise em right. Some folks say I must not done a very good job. I say fuk them folks. Yeah, so hear I am, sitting in front of this dam keyboard, fukin board, fukin hot Florida sun shining down outside my trailer. On about my 20’th beer of the day. Get 600 dollars a month to live off, disability from the fukin government cause of my one eye, and I have seizures at times from an old surgery back in the day. Suits me just fine. I never much liked working for nobody but myself.

I’m teddy Bassnadle; I work washing dishes in this snazzy nice restaurant in town here. I’m 24, I’m broke all the time, I aint got a woman, I aint got no friends, I live with my mama in a small house, we got rats and cockroaches, it’s a small town, we got 2 dogs, named bixom, and burley, my ma’s a waitress at the local truck stop, she always bringing home different truckers from the diner having sex late at night while I read dirty magazines and pray to the good lord above that some day me and mama’s life might change for the better. mama’s got this bad cough from smoking for 40 years. Sometimes I like to go out in the woods on my days off of washing dishes. I just bin building a lil something out there. just to sit in, just to look up at the big sky, and wonder what’s going on up there. it’s real quiet like, and I can hear crickets and coyotes at times. I a good bowler too, but they closed down the only alley in town. So I don’t have many hobbies anymore. Cept I grow weed. But I aint gonna tell u where. My mom don’t tell me whatever happened to my pa. She always says.. “ u aint old enough yet son!”

My names Ruby peters, I’m a cokehead meth head stripper who works at the only titty bar 100 mile from these parts. My boyfriend is a heroin addict, he don’t work-unless u consider rippin off high shcool kids on the smack he scores work. I guess I am too, an addict of all sorts, but prefer the pick me ups more. I’m 18 and live in Brownsville north Dakota. We got our own house we rentin off Billy’s cousin. My man, and me, cause the dam neighbors at our old apartment always complaining bout the late hours and company we keep. I give my boss blowjobs every time he asks during the week. He makes me swallow. for an extra 200 dollars a week. My boss is an old fat man in his 60’s. lotta people in town don’t like him, lots of church going folks tried to shut him down years ago. But the mayor, and the sheriff are his two younger brothers. my boyfriend don’t know nothing bout my boss and me. and he just thinks I got so much money from the non-tippin lard asses who I give couch dances to. None of those fukers ever tip. I got brown eyes, like the color of shit, and I drive a sports car that the repo man may be looking for soon.

My names Josey Walker, I’m a professional man, advertising executive for ‘branz and branz’, one of the leading male oriented business magazines in the united states. I ware suits and ties everyday, am still young, 33 in fact, and i chum around with other people I work with. I’m the kinda guy who will slap your back if you are having a bad day. And say “cheer up u dumb fuker!” I’m a go-getter, and success comes naturally to me, as do women, u see I have money, and money can buy just about anything u want. I own 14 different cars. Mercedes, rolls Royce’s, bmw’s, old corvettes, jaguars… hahahahahaha, what do u drive? An old pick up truck? Ha.. that’s a joke I use while slapping peoples back’s. Nobody ever seems to get it. I got credit cards, I know movie stars, politicians, criminals, mobsters, Pulitzer winners, I own property in just about every livable place from here to new Zealand, I have ordered the death of 79 rivals now in the business, I drink bottled water and enjoy dry martini’s on the rocks when I fly into my favorite little vacation spot just off the coast of Hawaii, i work out daily, as u can see, and nobody in the world can touch me. I vote republican, and don’t eat meat, or dairy products. Me and bunny, one of my clients, were sitting here on my yacht with todd and mary, we all fuck each other in wild positions after doing some of the best coke that comes into America. I have a good connection on that.. I have all sorts of connections. we sit here laughing at poor people, as the sun goes down over a perfect California sky and I stroke my balls as bunny bangs herself with a golden dildo I bought her.

I’m Leslie huxbuckle. I go to college and am majoring in poly techno herbal health rot science biochemistry, with a minor in business communication. I’m 20 years old, I just love dancing and watching these Texas aggies play football- its so dam exciting going to these college games with my fellow sorority sisters, that it almost gets my pussy wet, my parents would be so proud of me, I don’t drink, or smoke, and I just love country music- that Garth brooks! So dam sexy on a Friday night! After reading my good bible, my boyfriend shawn, I just love his butt huggin wrangler jeans, he cooked some steaks for me tonight after bible study, then we went and saw this really neat movie, and it was so much fun! I just love the movies, specially all those Hollywood blockbusters. And those special effects! and church, and my boyfriend, and going to college off my parents money, and I have a beautiful Persian cat, named dixi dooo dah, aint that just so cute. I went and bought this book today for one of my classes at some bookstore that was suppose to be cheaper than the rest. And there was this guy at the register with really red eyes, and a miserable look on his face, he had yellow missing teeth and a big red nose. I was buying another book besides my schoolbook- the other book was on how to take care of cats. He tried to start a conversation with me, his eyes glaring at my tan tits hanging out of my work out shirt, and he kept eyeballing my legs, cause I had these nice tight shorts on, that showed off my perfect legs. I wish my boyfriend would have been there to kick his ass. This guy was such a loser, I bet he wasn’t a Christian, he scared me with his presence. He asked me if I had a cat, and then he started talking about his own cat’s personality, and how it always bit him. I smiled and said goodbye.. god.. he was so geee...rooossss!. What a loser that guy was! Shawn and me went riding my folk’s horses tonight and I told him about that sick guy in the bookstore that tried to talk to me.. shawn told me he would go kick his ass if need be.. I just love my fluffy red pillows my dad bought me after I got accepted into this great college town. My church has bingo on Thursdays, and we play softball as well, on my days off from class, My pussy is so nice and tight, and perfect. Hee, here’s a lil secret, every time shawn trys to touch it, I slap his hand away.. cause we aint married yet.. don’t tell my dad bout what shawn tries sometimes.. im so happy about life. Jesus loves me so much, and shawn too.

My names chester gutshot, people always ask me what gutshot means, and if that’s my real last name. I go on and tell them to mind their own business. I work for muxley roofing, or I use to, bin a roofer for 18 years. I laid Spanish tile, laid flat roofin, laid tar on sunny days in hot hells. I started my own roofin company after bout 14 years of laying down roofs, and rippin off old people. Fuk muxley. That old man doesn’t know shit. I Telling em all sorts of shit about how they needed a new roof, the old folks, on farms and shit. Deep in backwoods, I dam near earned all this I got now. I hire Mexicans from across the fukin border everyday to increase my profits, pay em like 5 bucks an hour, those fukers work quick, and I aint never seen one of them in shorts, even when it’s like 115 out and shit. I got a nice lil boat, and decent sized home now, my kids call me every once in a while, shit wasn’t always to good, it aint bin easy, but I stuck with a trade, and now its paying off. Shit. I even got cute lil bartender girls coming over late at night, pouring me drinks, and sucking my old cawk in the moonlight, just cause I got the best weed in town, I only go out to the roofin sites now, bout twice a day, once after waking up, and second time, after my drunk nap, got berry to keep an eye on things while I rest, berry aint a bad kid, he speaks Spanish too. I got this fukin dam computer, I bought, and I bin, as they say-surfin the web for bout 2 weeks now, think I’m addicted to it. they got porn too, all sorts of shit I never had growing up.

My names dertry mcsasquatch- 31 years of age, I work in a holiday inn, as the daytime bartender, my hours are from 10 am, till 5 pm, most days, it’s a job, u know, u gotta work they say. Mostly I make the popcorn, and open bottles of wine for the waitresses that come over from the restaurant this place had too, in the morning. The cooks and me are always exchanging stoner stories.. I ware a bow tie, a lot of the cooks laugh at me. but I sell them drugs they cant get, so I earn respect slowly. Sometimes the head guy of the entire hotel walks by me, catches me talking to the walls, changing the channels on the TV’s.
polishing fifths I drink late at night. I’m a thief, I will rip u off, don’t trust me, I shot heroin in the holiday inn bathroom once after puking all over the pop corn I was trying to make after 2 hours of sleep, my owner was in the next stall, taking a shit, as I sunk a used needle into my so needing arm, it was pure irony, pure symbolism, just stupidity & joy…
I don’t work there anymore, but I remember a lot about stuff… one time me and this dude who was a bus boy went out back and started exchanging drug stories.. and we both started frothin at the mouth and shit, this cook joined us. But shit went bad man, not just the meet, but u know, its good to move on and shit, my name’s dertry mcsasquatch.. my folks gone and kicked me out, I live on the beach now, live on friends couches.. aint had a job now in 4 years/…

 
Shoots & ladders

bong watered codeine
splattered barfarama
thin walls of escapism
abandoned disillusionment echo
dreamt dreams drowned around upside down
standing on one’s head gets u high
soaking towels perplexion loft laced
drum wiggle beat bounce pound pound
over expansion tremor eye poke
hole in head, hole in cock, hole in nose,
hole in ears, hole in belly button,
hole for shit to come out of,
hole bunch of stupidity vinegar regrets
hole lot of nothing
twisted to reminisce
bouts poured stomach grown punch face in
arms sore attached to over read eyes
excitements waking no sleep rough time
so much informational dirt in nails
life massive amounts in short bloody periods
mirror watch who is face millions
phobias public no work, first sip, second sip,
like a morphine drip in hole arm vein
start morning with a drink
start afternoon with another drink
start evening in drunken haze
adult children of necrofeel eee yaks!
two twins in different cells
sitting exactly the same
while baffled guards wonder how
slow down brain attack not now panic safe
signals passed in electric sky lined pitter patter
Genghis fukin kahn eating with ivan the terrible
while squawking children
like shot seagulls convulsing
on summer beaches
swim into toxic fountains in youth
searching for final hole
awareness to silliness’
like small slits in painted eyes,
slits in vibrational nonsense, frothing, fuming, control,
breath, music, man, women, earth, psychology,
statistics, recluse, content-
bronte sister alien arsonist rewind
go boom bang, blood rush to head, giggle,
speech impediment cut tongue
flying wounded birds
inside a hollow globe hole

choices

have knives
have guns
have whiskey

so what

my cat hates me
lots of people hate me

have sharp knives
Guns… I know where u live…
next door phone calls
private callers
bury them
dig out

could start a world war if need be…

people are very ignorant
even myself

cutting the skin

causing drama for no other reason
than to prove my pointless point

I get the last word
get the last word

things u could only imagine
lived lives u only make up

duck duck goose
marco polo

something died
it smells like fish
smells like your wrinkled skin
flaking off onto memories gone

watch your mouth
better yet
watch mine

cause we all know u do

blood trickles onto keyboard
stab wounds deep into my leg

jab it into my skin
& make
only bloody mary’s
with extra spice

my face blotched
in nervous system slow downs
just for u old man
ten valiums,
a saddled hair dye, bloated looks,
the donkey boy with wings
flying past future attacks

licking the blade
watch me die
make sure u laugh
watch me die
pretend I care
watching my mouth

Dream again

on the back of this pick up truck- can here the ocean- driving south in the dark with other men in orange suits flabbering away with their jaws of stupidity, got a grudge against this one guy in the truck, not even sure why…so I rip his arms and legs off and hear them break and crack, and I throw his body torso overboard into the red sea, as the others tell me “that wasn’t cool man”

“shut up, this is my dream, and I’ll rip your legs and arms off too” I state, drinking more…

now the police are looking for me and the other guys in the orange suits, the truck broke down- only now somehow all our suits turned purple, and I’m sort of crouched down wandering on this slope like hill filled with ivy- the cops spot us all, and then these things get out of the cop cars, they look human, but have black eyes, all pupils, dark, in gray shirts, that have some medical slogan on the shirts-

my suit turns red now, and the guys in the gray medical shirts start crushing the other men from the truck, crushing their heads in with their hands, heads pop like pumpkins-
and this one kid in gray shirt keeps backing me up, flashing me some badge, saying- just let us take u to the hospital sir, u saw what happened to your friends, now don’t try and fight me…-
“those weren’t my friends, u fuk, this is a dream, and u aint even real” I scream, taking a hard punch at his face..he just laughs, I take a huge kick at his head, other men in gray shirts are laughing, I pull out a knife, and cut his head off, it flops down on the ivy, and re connects itself.. these things are not human.. a huge flying torso devil floats up to me holding a bunch of cards.. I don’t like this.. It’s taunting me.. telling me to pick a card.. I slip down some ivy, and tumble onto the beach, and I notice these sick weirdoes holding some poetry contest in the late evening of California air.. the guy is right in the middle of his big poetry line.. saying… ”& so they sat, in miserable worlds, eating’s each others souls, while fishing for the meaning inside these missing warmth nacho plates towards freedom”

“that’s a bunch of crap!”
I yelled

“dude, dude, dude, that aint cool, Freddy is our brother! Who are u? that aint cool man, u are a buzz kill…!”

“shut the fuk up, u morons!.. I just fell out of the sky and these demons with gray shirts and sick skin are after me.. trying to kill me…. excuse me if I’m honest!”

this one idiot guy comes up in a phish shirt

“dude man, we can groove, chill bro, it’s all kind, man, let the love in…”

I realized I was in a dream again.. I always wanted to kill a hippie, or a poser hippie..

“no dude, it aint all kind, the world is a fuked up place, and we live in it.. and no, we can’t groove together! I listen to slayer late at night, and u listen to fukin jerry Garcia!.. now die!”

this hippy chick walked up, all sexy and hairy and big sloppy dumb stoned boobs.. the ocean splashing next to her….

“hey man, free love brother.. its all good”

“no u stupid close minded fuks! It’s not all good.. nothing is pretty or sacred!die!”

then the guys in the gray suits came swarming down from the mountains.. and picked me up.. with claws, and wings, and lectures on opinions and personalities,, and devils, and games, and religions, and cultures,, things like that..

“never trust a hippy”

one of the guys with black eyes told me,

and then they took me to this party, and we did drugs and turned into night creatures of folklore with bright shiny happy trails eating away the sadistic de sade like revolutions..

and a I kept trying to kill the nightmares
praying on knees on heavy narcotics.. booze, weed.
Late, it’s too late.. I threw that torso in the river
Near the ivy, next to the gray shirted hospital men with all black eyes..
and it flew up to.. in the baptism of grief dreamt…
I couldn’t win, anywhere..
forced myself to wake up in a cold hot sweat..
clock read 6 am
had only bin asleep for an hour..

a burning cigarette lay on carpet
my cat pawing at it-

can only hope for wet dreams tonight
if I indeed decide to sleep again.. if ever..

mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein from a bad dream
so they say in the books
i finger at work

don’t own any orange suits
don’t eat Tylenol 4’s codeines
5 of dem
after reading all morning
with vomit eyes in a world full of liars
sand in toes, opinions on a hook,
biting further, deep into un known ocean floors..

3 am walk

drunken wood stumbling
walk with Yankees

lil sis

lil friend of sis michagander, flight at 3 am…

“cows !” they scream,, we must film the cows..

video me, stumble focus
230 am..

they giggle….

We walk, dark, texas, backroads-

film my feet walking for a while

Then I film them, getting scared-

“where are the cows?” they giggle…

“yeah, what dah fuk, I aint see no cows”

I trip and fall

Grab camera..

Almost do

Head plant.. laughter..

film..

Two young girls giggling

“no like like like we are so serious-
there were cows out here earlier” cali valley girl

“whatever.. hold my flashlight and drink”

drops camera again..

her friend wares a mini skirt
& pisses into gravel

“gosh dam don’t film me!”

she screams in this Michigan accent

as I focus in…

“like oh my gaaaaaawwwsh”

we walk on chain smoking

as I step in cow sheet

mumblin….

“I didn’t wana go anymore, I aint seen no cows..”

we walk across bridge

giggling and filmin , holding each other up..

ash

Everyone dies
In the end
Critic me
suck me
Pretend u are cool
Pretend u no better
suck me
Critic me
Tell me this could be better

everyone dies
were all ash
Floating in this shit plasma 20 bucks

Suck me,
Catch my vomit
As it sprays the only truth I know

Critic me
Love me
Fuk me
Spit on me

Stop telling me
How special u are
Instead….
Prove it

Critic me
Spread your legs
Send me haikus
I’m so sorry
I’m not sorry at all

Love me,
tell me something
real
without all that ego
fuk me
kill me

be sure
to send a
Self-addressed stamped envelope

fuk me
fuk me
make us cum
poke me with that needle

sell my blood for a drink
when I’m gone

i came home from work

i came home from work, my girlfriend was staring at the floor, talking to a marble on the floor..

“its gonna be ok, take me away, mr marble.. take me away.. could move to Sweden on the slide and make love to Africans..” she said.. her arms and face shaking. her eyes pouring down tears..

“honey, are u drunk? Did u eat some pills, it will be ok “ wipe tear from her face..

“no it wont be u fuk! Everything is fuked!”

“hey, honey, its me, its ok, relax, and calm down.. I love u”

“love me! ha! “ she bellows, vomiting onto the carpet..

“it is a pretty marble “ I say..

“no, its not” she cries..

“do u know I had my father ‘s gun in my mouth last night u bastard!”

“but honey why? Come on man, don’t cry”

“because, just because.. I didn’t do it, because of you! because of you Nicholas! I thought of our love…”

“honey. Come on, u know life aint easy, why would you put your dads gun in your mouth.. I don’t know what I would do with out you..”

“with out me! ha! I was going to pull the trigger, I don’t know where I am, I want to die.. I want to live.. I drink too much!”

“honey, chill out man.. its gonna be ok.. just know that we have each other forever..”

I pet her head, wiped her tears.. said a prayer.. worried..
She left me a week later,, and never talked to me again, other then to remind me of her hatred towards me..she began seeing another man 2 days after dumping me..these things make one become soul-less, lifeless, dead to it all..don’t trust anyone.. and and.. and. And.. I bet it was all an act… whore..

winner

my mom tells me I’m a loser

my xgirlfriend tells me I’m a loser

people at work call me a loser

some of my old friends think I’m a loser

i think my own kitty cat

even thinks I’m a loser

but I’m drinking

and tappin my feet to some ricky martin

on some radio station I’m too lazy to get up and change

my bong next to me stuffed with good green

if this is being a loser..

it sure don’t bother me right now…

gets up to change station..

bin reading a lot on selflessness
bout breathing, bout letting go,

of any one else’s opinion but one’s self,
and if I’m ego less

and opinions are ridiculous
even my own

cause everything is nothing
then being a loser is pretty cool

&
learn to meditate
inward
each day
like a gigantic jelly fish
flapping slurping, burpin under
perfectly circulated musical oceans
all alone with a smile of heavy egg crack
oh yeah, what was I talking about…
oh, that’s right, about being a loser,

my friend crazy matt just called
he’s coming over
people call him a loser too

dorker

i’m a drunken idiot jerk
who writes drunken babble
then burns it the next day
darvecets can enhance ones perception
on even, steady now boy, hidden realities
after eating Rolaids
one may consider life
if it’s getting hard to see your feet
when u shower
then its time to rub the belly
& let it grow , let’s flourish
cause I don’t like muscle heads
use to- weighed 120 a few years ago
but was also living off chemicals
I can’t jog, cant lift weights
It’s hard enough to get out of bed
I can eat
Up to 175, fattest ever, I think
& go to some low paying job
& deal with all shiny happy rem people
it’s ok to think
gawd I hate that song
but if one breathes deeply
enough
things can happen
like half naked passed out
sick girlfriends laying in bed
as air conditioner pumps out
& every letter I type
on keyboard
is like some loud echo
of something that use to feel important
addicted to the slurred word
my brain throbbing next to you
a platter of deep fried truth
& your snoring flesh
with them dream like hand twitches
I’m out of ganj
I’m out of line
with dreaded chunks of hair
dangling off my knotted ears
lets order pizza
wake up honey
my cawk is sore from over spankin

tonight I went to a lesbian work party after work

I was at work and this lesbo hottie told me of her party
I figured sure,
I'll go, have a few drinks, really gotta get out of the apartment more...
Meet people sometimes..
better then sitting around alone trollin round poetry boards
Work people were there- couples..yawn.. we drank, ate food
Went over to my dope dealers house
In same complex, we smoked weed
Then he went all philosophical discussion on me
His girlfriend gave me her last vicodin
and we chatted about spirituality and all
And he started pulling out his guitar, I yawned..
And he asked me what it was to me
"I don't know dude, who cares, I wana go back to the lesbo party"
hope I didn't insult him
but I needed another drink as well
went back and asked the host's girlfriend if she had any pick me ups
maybe a lil, follow me in bedroom. Crank lines.
Then she gave me this weird glass sharded meth stuff that she said u don't snort
"u swallow it on a cookie or cracker" she said handing it me
"whatever, thanks," I said, went in bathroom and licked it all up
went back to party and started babblin a mile a minute
but the night was just starting, I drank more.
And two drunken lesbos came from bar
One was really drunk, and we started talking
She had blue eyes, I got a thing about blue eyes
She was about an inch away from my face as we chatted
She said she was a vet, had her own practice
She started rubbing her tits up against me and biting my neck
As fellow workers looked on in amazement
She was 33 years of age, im 31-
She was all over me! my gawd! This shit never happens to me
And a doctor lesbian who was cute no less!
Fukin aye, I needed some fresh air..
My dope dealer was out on the balcony
"dude" I told him "that chick is all over me, I might get some"
"dude" he said " she a lesbian rich vet, she aint gonna go for u" he laughed
at me
I stared him down, "just watch and learn bro" his girlfriend and him laughed
more at me
Then the drunken vet came out
She got all close to me
For some reason she kept calling me a pretty boy
"I aint no pretty boy, im ugly"
I said,
as she nibbled more on my neck, I was getting horny now...
Her cunt rubbing up against my leg..
I smiled over at my dope dealer, as she suddenly grabbed my head
And stuck her fukin tongue down my throat
I responded with my lizard like desperate tongue..
People watched in amazement
The stories they will talk at work....
I thought, as we began rubbing each other and kissing more
My dope dealer was watching the whole thing, eating his words
As the crank and vicodin and booze and pot rushed through my horny blood
We sorta went off to a corner, and I lit a cig
As she was all over me, saying "your easy, pretty boy"
"hee" I mumbled
" I like your blue eyes and tits, I bet your good in bed, so is that your
girlfriend in there that looks all pissed off at us?"
"oh no pretty boy, dam your cute, scratch me more"
I couldn't believe what was happening
Are tongues invading each others saliva, not even remembering the others name..
I asked her friends, the other lesbos if she was really a doctor, vet..
They said yes, she was..
I started asking her to take me home to her rich mansion
And I told her I'd make her cum
"all in good time pretty boy" she said, sticking her tongue in my ear now
she decided to take her shirt off
her gut was kinda big, but who cares, she was hot
tan, blue eyes, a fukin drunken doctor vet!
She took her shirt off, as other party members looked disgusted..
Then she started rubbing her tits up against me saying
"don't worry bout them pretty boy, they no how I am"
"hee" I mumbled
then she fell flat on her back for some reason, drunk
and almost rolled down the stairs
I grabbed her tho
People left us alone for a while
I could see them in the kitchen babblin, talking crap, who cares I told her
Yeah she said, who cares.. we made out more with her top off
And I started rubbing her secret spot
And she was all " yeah man, oh yeah" im not sure if she was faking it
I didn't care, this shit don't happen to me to often
"so I thought u liked chicks?"
"well, whatever, I like u right now" tongue down throat.
I drank more, she followed me around, seducing me
I don't know why I was nervous, just all the work people watching and shit..
More crank
Drink more
I started asking her if I could quit my job
and move in with her, considering she was pretty well off.
I told her how I need time to write the novel
And that she could support me
She laughed " oh pretty boy, your easy"
As she began lifting my shirt and sucking on my hairy nipples
What a crazy fukin great bitch I thought
The other lesbo she came with started looking pissed off
So the vet doc with shirt off dragged me in the bathroom
As people looked on, I felt special for a change
I watched her piss, I aint never see a women piss.
My nose sniffled crank decay down my throat
She stood from toilet
And we went into more sloppy kisses
"take me home to your big house, I'll make u cum" I said, nibbling on her ear
"oh pretty boy, your easy " she said again
"stop calling me a pretty boy, u don't know shit about me- im a writer"
"I write to pretty boy, " she said rubbing my unshaven face
then the girl she came with started pounding on the bathroom door
I thought I was about to get my ass kicked by the other girl
I left them to yell and talk
Went outside and laughed at my dealer
"I'm having a great night bro" I told him
he smiled
then the lesbo vet and other girl were gonna leave
but she gave me this big sloppy drunken kiss
and I handed her shirt back
and she kept like teasing me more, rubbing her cunt against my leg
as her friend pulled her away
and they left
most people left
I sat around with the lesbian hosts
And a big storm started at about 4 am
And I talked to them about there vet friend
And I said I felt guilty
"why ?" they asked
"cause she was drunk, probably didn't even know what she was doing"
"she always knows what's she's doing, she likes to make out with women and
dudes,
but she really seemed to like u" they said
"really?" I asked
"seems that way they said"
I drove home at 5 am, with freeway signs and trees knocked all over,
Didn't see one fukin car, no cops thank god..
This was a good night, I need to get out more often
And I hope I see that vet again sometime
Holy shit, 6 am, still not tired
Have to work today, fuk..life is cool sometimes

This moment

today was turkey day
some sort of holiday
where I get an extra day off work
& in the end, that’s all that matters

the less
one has to work for money
the better, unless u are paid for
something u do that u enjoy-

which is rare, like a pink steak
dripping lips licking salty meat
in liquor smiled kb nozzle head slurp slurp
vico-profin smile holidays

today was a good day
not like last week
not like yesterday. or tomorrow
not like the occupations
i can no longer count
maybe all days
could be like today
that’s all that matters
for now
was today & right now

People at work

this big dude at work
with a tank top full of sweat
suddenly caught my eye tonight
at work, cause he was staring at me..
I looked away quickly
but it was to late
he was gonna
have to ask me something
dammit!
he came up
and said
“dah, do werk dere?”
“yes, may I help u?”
“doh, doh wife dah , u come, deet dat fors”
I followed him to the back of the store
as he said
“Gert merk boh done Englishf wife git done”
i know I hadn’t smoked that much on break
i know what I fukin heard
& that’s what he said
his wife could speak a little better
and she asked me some question about
if this one dictionary was the same as
another dictionary for her daughter
i pretended
to act like I knew what I was talking about
& went into
a long explanation about the different dictionaries
& publishers, the years, copyrights, editions,
meanings of definitions, just talking out my ass,
& I think I said something about butterflies
for her daughter & which mite be the best one
with my eyes plastered on her sweat filled husband
they fell for whatever I said
& the man said
“doh dee dank dees, good helpers”
& they left

Work

these consumers of waste waddle around
like wounded enemas weeping
about what to watch on TV next- or what to stuff down their fat tick like faces-
belching up ignorant eyeball
contact & holding ridiculous
books about nothing, while waving shiny credit cards
nothing can snap them into another reality besides their own.
these are humans, despicable rodents, most of them.
much like myself.
people who use public restrooms
& leave globs of human excrement for an employee to clean!
i leap to yell in lights covering my sore eyes.
i consume words hidden in the furthest chair
until the snoopiest of ignorant lookie looz poke noses into back shelves.
i glance up, mad, can I help u!? I say.
they wiggle away, probably unsure if I even work here.
two deep breathes, & time flys, when I turn the last couple pages
my jaw drops, wanting part 2, what a novel, back to reality…
time to mop the ladies room
& take out the trash
after cleaning up shit

The buzz kill guy

fukin assholes
I’m out at a bar
trying to talk to people outside
i don’t even know why

notice a group of so called hippie looking college kids
one of them, some dude, is babblin away,,
& they are all agreeing with him,
& laughing at his dumb stories

me stumble up

the guy is trying to say he rode his bicycle from the pacific coast highway
all the way to Nevada or some shit…

“ that’s the stupidest story I ever heard,
& I can just about guarantee it aint true…..…” I glare at him-
“my names nicholas, I want to do some drugs tonight”
I blurp out..to this circle of people

the one yapity yap fuker dumb looking wana be hippie guy goes..
“u the feds man? U with the feds?”

“what?” I ask

“yeah yeah, that’s what all feds say..”
he tells me

“look dude, I aint a fukin narc
im drunk, and I trying to talk to people”

“a narc? U just said the word narc.. that’s what all feds say,
just answer the question, u a fed?”

“look u scrawny lil fukin college boy fish listening fag,
I bin doing drugs since I was 15,
I’m 31 now” I stare him down…

“yeah, but u didn’t answer the question” he states..

I ruined their lil get together

all his dumb friends are staring at me, chicks, and dudes..
giving me dirty looks
I finger my middle finger ring
A big black stone
I ware for occasions just like this

“call me a fukin fed or narc one more time,
come on, do it, and see what happens to your fukin face..
come on dude.. mr big shot..
fukin call me a fed one more time.. I dare u!”

I say,
backing up, staring him down..
Ready to punch

He goes…

“no, u cool man, fuk this, I’m going to get another beer”

“yeah u fukin do that fuker!” I yell at him..

“man” one of the girls says..”you’re a real buzz kill”

his buddies all separate…
whispering things to each other

& I just stand there
trying to make new friends..
ready to kill

stumbling back to my car
after bar closes
deciding to keep to myself
from now on

I am totally normal

sometimes I think every one is nuts
just anyone, just a random lover, random friend,
my folks, my animals on the phony estate, customers..
I think sometimes they all gather together
while im asleep, all these people who are nuts..
& they dance around drunk and dribbling drool
& talking about degrees & talking bout futures..
while I dream another nightmare unexplainable
my old rooomate ruth use to tell me
I was neurotic & paranoid & too sensitive

I always wanted to have sex with ruth

but some things weren’t meant to happen

plus, I think she was working for them
ha, sensitive! Neurotic! Ha! Paranoid! Ha!
I moved out & never spoke to her again
after jerking off
for 6 months & trying to play her games..
i knew what she was up to
Plotting against me
cause
i spoke truths she wasn’t prepared for..

sometimes I think everyone is nuts
then I stop, and I take a look at myself
I don’t think im nuts
I use to say to an old girlfriend named sleslie,
as she was called in the end, she would tell me..
“that means u are nuts then!” she would scream..
“what ?” I would ask
“it’s the people who think they are nuts, those are the people that aren’t nuts, but the ones that don’t think they are nuts, those are the true crazies, those are the ones that don’t need to pretend!, the ones that are a little to comfortable being along for long periods of time..” she informed me…

“maybe your fukin nuts” I said,
taking a sip of my drink.. half laughing, yet thinking she may have had a point if I could only remember what she had just said.. I had headspins.. had mixed many bad things.. maybe I would die..maybe my body and brain would give out tonight… I thought.. smiling..looking over at this girl next to me, with her tits hanging out her top, her tight green 80’s mini skirt, and her sad almost caring drunken eyes..

maybe I’d finally die

and I got bored with the subject of who’s nuts and who aint nuts,, but all this talk about nuts, made me want some peanuts.. I couldn’t find any.. so I settled for 3 week left over fish I found stuck in the back of my mini fridge. I let my cat sniff it first. He wouldn’t eat it.. I saw that blue mold stuff on it. like really bad milk, or cheese, or anything u leave in the fridge to long.. 8-month-old spaghetti.. shit

I ate it all, very hungry..

The next day I awoke with the usual hangover, but an extra gut rot that could double any strong man or women over into a heaping mess of pure physical pain…
horking my guts all over the dam carpet, with no one to notice but an ungrateful rotten cat that bites me from dumb women gone…

My phone rang
I heard a drunken female voice on the other end

“hee, hee, I have bin watching u, I think maybe u are nuts” it said.. like an echo from some skipping old punk rock album growing up..

“whore, whore, what whore is this that my cock was once in have u forgotten my one true trait? Loyalty bitch!?”

the phone went dead..

I had another drink, thought about mirrors..cleaning up the mess..
Maybe they were closing in, a climax of all the drunken philosophy rants in a cage for all to see..
im pretty sure it’s all a big plot against me..
I have become less sensitive these days.. as far as neurotic and psychotic, and alcoholic, and manic and paranoid,

am in complete control, vic chestnuts on..

they were the nutty ones, not me, im normal man..
im nrm man..jellygun.. zonkzest..

they say leo dogs make perfect loners
but maybe those
people thought astrology
was the answer
leozane, kee tars.. good kitty..

not gonna die tonight
sorry

now git

tie me to the clouds of rain that fall backwards beyond horizontal markings with in musical justifications- for a moment inside these wandering all too hungry eyes smoldering atop the fire above-speak with me in puddles-inthefires-intherains-inthefires-intherains- beds of boredom arise like greek feasts of clogged toilet pipes connecting to over thought brain cells that kick on and off onandoff- once for one in all that I see-flashing images –floods & wars- suicide bombings when a doorbell rings like blasted alarm ears in crumbling rubble with a long stretchy scream in an empty room – get naked & scratch tiny chunks of flesh from my face while hopping around like a free prisoner on my soul with a hack sawed chain around a neck hauled from eternal sick sun shined second ticks-belt me a good one –tell me a good one-cradle me in teased scabbiness so when the ointment is applied I can pull my teeth out one by one- these fortunes for come with a wicked out dust found in gun residue air after a night of trigger pulling at the sky- for the coyote gut carries housecats while crying housewives eat burnt egg plants along broken walls –along the lines & lines of humans peeking through stalks of codeine morning hinges- chastise memories in words with planets dropped ultimate body rot decay from inside this movement allows waves onto waves struggling arms in ocean sea salted tongue echoes- valleys of grazing goat howls- sling me around while cracking my head like a watermelon with your ancient glue remedy in pocket less times-get naked & show me what’s inside-get naked& let me come inside-affectionately spit my pet from sleeping cave dwellers & swallow another one boy while racing away to another dead end-

Gobble another

it starts in your ankles
a warm sloshy feeling
working it’s way up
to
the pit
of empty stomach
sitting there, inside, dissolving,
eating away at ones liver
eradicating ones problems
it sparks euphoric receptors in brain
u swallow a few more
now your fingers feel numb
loose enough to move images
to move semi trucks
u stretch
& feel every puny cell pumping
like sweaty jack hammers
pounding into the ground
u flex
& move your neck in circles
sun coming in through blinds
it makes one feel confident
your speech flowing fluently
it hands out bliss
like a priest
putting a communion wafer
on your tongue
liquefying all sin & pain away
if only for a while

Mr. positive

I don’t like football, American, or European,
don’t like apple pie or baseball
don’t like most movies or TV or the Olympics
don’t like housewives & credit cards
don’t like dads with sons in bookstores
being all jolly & repetitive
don’t like college or college kids
didn’t like high school or high school kids

don’t like bright stores
i don’t like guys who ware tight wranglers and talk real loud with cowboy hats on
i don’t like women who ware American flag shirts, all fucking patriotic,
& drive mini vans, and pick their darling kids up from soccer practice
don’t like yuppie neighborhoods or communities
don’t like lying whores who trick honest loyal people

don’t like fast food joints that cant get my simple order correct
Can’t stand malls, or the people in them..
didn’t like to hear people talk when i don’t want to hear them talk
like standing in line at the grocery store
don’t like bosses- or work 40 hour a week for shit pay
don’t like people with huge egos and huge opinions on subjects I don’t care about

don’t like nazis or racists or hypocrites
don’t agree with organized religions & governments who kill & judge
cant stand liberals, cant stand right wingers-
don’t like having to pay bills and rent and stuff like that,
I don’t care for people who always seem to have some answer to some dumb
question

don’t like when my truck runs out of gas in the middle of nowhere when its snowing out

guess I don’t really like people with agendas
I guess I don’t really like people who know what month and day it is
don’t like school spirit or football, or what state you live in spirit
Don’t like cavities and sore broken old bones
don’t like labels, I don’t like slackers, I don’t like mtv,
don’t like working out in gyms, don’t like go getters-
I don’t like big crowds and phony conversations,
don’t like to smile or eat all my vegetables or stand up straight

I don’t like hot pavement with bare feet
don’t like frozen snow with soggy socks
I don’t even really like myself or this thing I just wrote or you reading it

primitive unabomber ate French clocks

breath elements elevating head pain
garage door blasted another sun echo
head lice sucking on intestine soul
shimmers in tumbling step croak

orange ashtray with leg fried didn’t think so
brownish yellow paint spurted curtain close
feather pillowed disturbed over doer
dancing wiggle wonder gut froze

heavy breath in naked sheets
invisible beings sucking blood
out of each other’s hollow heads
like acrobats pelted with bowling balls

lip shitted gobbled em all today
burning stomach acid finger nibbler
a knock on one’s door with out a shake
just one timer with hands stopped

France’s revolution back spring
shooting public clocks…
with screams in chaos circle a’s
red rivers filled public alleyways,

bombs, soldier’s wives, apple venders,
pepsi cola addicts, futility in shattered glass,
body parts quivering, alone is it,
purple bluish cyanotic veins of revolting fat

a huddled child of three staring up at planes
hitting a spiral turn around….
with blank expression: repeating
Freud over and over..


“civilization is something which was imposed
on a resisting majority by a minority which
understood how to obtain possession of
the means of power and coercion.”

My grains

my head full of chicken fat
my stomach full of migraine
my water jug is all I need now
maybe a feather pillow that forms to head
dam whiskey bottle pill no sleep

my father threatening to kick me out
from above his fukin garage
me and him, that fuk, I came from his cock,
& all we want to do is kill each other-
humans must breath more, take days with false smiles-

my mother would have lost her finger
the other day
if it were left up to him

my eyes full of smoke
my lips stuffed with silent thoughts

Cat in dah hat

LaLa from the Teli tubbies is sucking on a summer passé-fire with
Luke skywalker dancing around in Speedos on crack, talking a mile a minute,
Dr. Ruth is bent of over the back yard spa, taking it in the ass from Leon spinx,
Alice cooper is curled up in a corner
of where the mutant dog shits, reading a bible of all things,
Robert Johnson is naked, drunk, on weed, laughing at me, how can he even see me?
Marsha Brady is sucking off
ethan’s hawk from sesame street
Keith partridge is silently sticking a needle in his dad’s arm
In some movie trailer
Chrissy from three’s company is on top of me, and wet, and happy,
And so am I for a change
Barbara Bush has
Ted Bundy and ET in a head lock, while they rip her
Sexy dress off, they laugh, fall into pool, and change clothes in mansion.
Charlie Brown is bleeding from his alligator attack
Jim Belushi is shooting his leg up with
Some sort of burnt egg fried remedy
Jerry springer, vinegar veins gone
Shaggy from Scooby doo is having gay sex
On some puppet show
With miss piggy and spock
as a dealer who
Pat Robertson has a black vibrator up his ass
With his followers beating pro choice women to death
As they drink shots of lime filled vodka
Jesse James is hanging out with
Oj Simpson’s mother, they are tongue kissing
Roger whitaker is playing his guitar
For a young man in a sleeping bag
Chong, from cheech and chong
Is passing me the answer
Ren from ren and stimpy show
Is off with luke skywalker, vomiting.
John holmes has
Hillary Clinton
Tied by the balls
Elvis is on the toilet with an
Erik estrada doll shoved in his nostril
On august 16 falling to his red carpet
Shoved down his final barf episode- the king they said-
The blonde girl from the show ‘hee haw’
And
Charlie
manson’s father are swimming in a sea of nuclear bass lakes
Mike Tyson’s dad
Is raping
Aretha franklin
Tarzan wasn’t invited
But he is still swinging around

dord pulled his backpack out from under his bed and began looking through all the bones he had collected over the years. Small ones, large ones, deformed ones. His pet rat Herman ran around the glass floor. Dord touched the bones in his smooth hands, he stared at them, talked to them, each one representing a different person from his past life as a lonely ice cream milkman. Now he fished a lot, collected bones. Put on his actor persona when occasionally going out to the bar. At the bar he could play what was his funniest game, pretending he wanted to be around people. His rat knew better. The bones knew better. But the people didn’t know any better. Not the dumb bimbos with boobs hanging out in late night idiot bar conversation hours. No way, they didn’t no a thing about dord. Dord was an enigma onto into upon himself. Whatever the fuk that means. It didn’t matter, what mattered was that backpack under his bed. what mattered was to stop the voices with more bones. That’s what it was. The bones he had painted were in another section of his creepy downstairs disco room. His own lil room of horrors. Blue bones, black bones, pink bones, washed bones, bleached bones.
Dord was busy, at the bar , that night, dord had found some flesh, female flesh, but under that flesh was what he wanted. He needed to keep collecting. Not just for himself. But for Herman as well. Man- was he smooth with the ladies. Green bones, white bones, orange bones, lavender bones. Midgets, monkeys, dolls, jackets, shoes, nylons, cancer lungs. Soft music, sweet kisses. Small snacks. Big appetites. Dord, dord the collector. He was.

Jack of all…. nothing

frothy fused retrospection
occupied drains detached
intact summary

olive soaring moles:
hungry devotion battered:
emergency kites running:
sleeping relaxing panicking

problems feast heads and
tails
self made home
derelicted transport music
scratch technology
cavemen bathroom mirrors

leather horse monkey
flipper tiger shark
rust feelings blood
scrapin grasping grapes

peas farm birds
cleanings
paint jobs in black
red box side streets

forget all that

“dear Mr. Chablis
we can not at this time
except your fiction”

all I want to know
is who is
Mr. Chablis?

i have no name

only the ones
they make up for me

not even a dollar
to my name
but I’m drunk
and I feel alive
with
myself -ish
observations

i spit some blood
up today
when I walked to the
discount tobacco store

i stopped for a minute
and stared at the emerald
wounded spit wad
i saw many things
in the side walk
in my destiny
I’m afraid to say

coughing up more
blood
buying cartons of smokes
sometimes I go jogging
in the woods
of my community

up hear above
the garage
with the Sibyl’s
many persona’s
with

the imaginary
friends
haunting myself
with dreams of
future head spins

and everyone is smiling
like animals
at cash registers

shitting out
huge turds
while the cat
licks the plate

I don’t remember eating anything

my hands are
shaken at the water cup
at work
I need
It
need my time

don’t start those
spins, my, I thought
it was under control.
Obviously not

Is that all
For tonight
Sybil flush?

the grapes
are burning in nacho cheese
and what do
they no about love
in between the remotes
euphony channels
what do they no
about cooking steaks on
low for the entire day/ night

least my piss isn’t red yet
that’s an absolute thing

gloomyx

to radiate away from gloom in the mis matched pattern sewn by mothers we use to know.
free and broken. clocks, all at the exact time in every particle in this hemisphere of earth wonder.
musical cures among garbage picked brainy walkers of that special wordy juiced sweat drops.
chap sticked guitar riffs, my face green, at work, eyes looping like roller coasters inside. cave men messiahs walking like humans in big corporate bookstores,
like overfed vultures with no taste in anything so called tasteless. to take a one way trip
with no concerns on ever coming back; around that midnight merry go round I spin away
to all the tiny little noises I hadn’t noticed, outside for a while, watering plants in warm late night sky.
to have stone roses and toll free numbers to possibly call, and the softness of a pussy cat, to squiggle against,
walk down street, pet the horse as well,
the barbwire fence, then get your sock caught on that rusty fence, laugh at carrots in palm,
and what the hell are all those little noises outside in the dark?
I noticed them more for some reason on this warm adventurous night in broken seconds.
I released fluids, from pores, from bowels, mis -stepping every which way,
mis- spelling things like reason-less reasons in the radiation of temporary exotic bliss. to stop time for a while high above the
creamy nights chilly sweaty wind among lakes falling from the loopy lip suction, lypo suctioning my spinal refreshment.

So god said let there be rain & john Hinckley jr.

erotomania can be like loving obsessions
delusions trickling through dampest skied out ‘ psychose passionate’
balance the leverage like david blaine floating-
distinguished paranoid truths like ‘de clerambault’s syndromes’
telepathic tribulations in coded in books voices
devotions rejected affection, some people’s compassion is nil,
a horizontal smack across my face with a fuking led pipe!
bleeding flowered red wines from my tired eye sockets-
john Hinckley jr. was in love with obsessive possessiveness
when he knew nobody owns anybody
slipping notes under Jodie fosters dorm room door
the munchausen disease becomes tunnels for minuscule remedies
relief of pain- perplexion techniques used in names of creation-
nothing but a ‘polle syndrome’ followed breaking points

alexander pope said “ is it, in heav’n, a crime to love too well?”
but who knows what he saw, we only have words with no bodily smells,
psychodynamic theories with special variations mixed up manic paint splashes-
tor rets syndrome- fuker! Shitass! Fuker! Dickshit!
as if therapy needed health insurance for behavioral discharges
do u know what the word frotteur means? ask Vladimir knobby cough
society has rules fuker! this is a voice in my head,
they filled my head back up with egg yolk from alien space ships
made from bong shaped men at bars saying” your to drunk, we cant let u in!”

my outrage… “ drunk? who u calling drunk? I’m just getting started!”
they want to take all my money when I have none left
stimulating loss can be a sub culture in tourist town gone wrong-
of course these are all hypothetical evaluations in theoretically altered orgasms past
mythology in myths of misty bela lugosi bites-

the transylvanians lead California state
with 33 self proclaimed vampires-
zen samurai taboo kung foo ti chi sociology section work yoga baked
yeasty bored board games- hydro chodone diner done-
do your section work-
a metamorphoses in baby Babylonian scars
tor rets boy “fuker no! fuk off, shit face fuckeyes!”
lycanthropy, therianthropy, minds over matters,
patience in growth, trivial turdlings like hail in lightining-
do u know who peter Kurten was? he yelled at his trial…
“nobody understands me! i need blood like an alcoholic needs liquor!”
branded the monster of dusseldorf
sex slaved psychologists in 10’th degrees of in out with above snapping black belts
of of of of of of of of of, I use of a lot-

mind in body training breath- to take another led pipe to injured head hole
& here comes thunder, just outside these humid texas windows-
of course ninja masturbation can kill u
with autoerotic asphyxiation depraved criminality
headrush yourself to a sense of sickness in morality
outcasted rejects of all society & love-
just now- the storm, made all electricity go out- computer shut down- cat get
dazzled- man get mad- I assumed all these words were lost-
but fate has a strange way of working- hormonal clingings I suppose-
now-
flie a deux of dual madness – contagious slurps-
communicated simultaneous imposed psychosis
like some Koro complex, some degree in koro penis withdrawal into abdomen through yellow emperors books of medicine from 3000 BC

tor rets- “fuk this fuk off, shit fuk no” bang, lightning again!
10 drops of blood only equals one drop of semen
ancient systems broken with kicks and punches, metal pipes, led weights,
anxiety erected sexual globes of dissipation
subnormal feats un discovered like gustav mind-
hair pull the trichotillomania while illustrating smoothly
the presence of external tongue meditations
with in the internal energy fields through radio transmitters that are invisible-
lies the depths of meanings, the radishes among all rashes-
ignore flimsy necrophiliacts blistering bat average-
mastering things beyond any violence, beyond any peaceful classifications-
soft as cotton, hard as steel,
every day in every way-
i become healthier in one way or another

sicker, sicker, healthier, healthier,
sub con sious potentials in compassion plus wisdom
call them eccentric laws in creation
call them lighting flashes with tough rain,
call it anything u will,
it becomes every day in every way to survive

trash

Herb tended to drink a little to quick at times to try and make his mind go numb, numb like the statues with mold and centuries of rain eating away at them in brown algae ridden no one gave a fukin dam times.
Herb thought that he could get to a point where he wouldn’t think of his feelings about a girl who had played, and scrambled, little corners of his brain with a pickaxe.
Herb came over a few times and vomited all over my Japanese rugs my mother had given me in past life times. the sick bastard never even cleaned it up. Said he was a busy man, working all the time, dealing dope to people with no concept of inner sanctuary.
herb was a fukin asshole. Herb was my neighbor. He had raised pit bulls for fighting, had two white trash sons from his first marriage, fukin herb. What an asshole-
Herb was dieing, that’s the only reason I cleaned his puke and stayed on friendly terms with his sorry ass. Plus I had seen his gun collection one night after a three day binge of crank. he was dieing everyday, so were his retarded kids. he thought I was fuked up. I thought he was fuked up. I use to hear him shooting at rats in his backyard at 333 in the morning. Drunk off cheap canned beer. Yelling bout his x wife. As his Mongoloid metallica wearing t shirt kids ran around pissing off the pit bulls.
Me? well, I was next door, peeking out my windows, paranoid as hell, thinking every cop in Lansing was just waiting to break down the broken doors with eviction notices collecting snow.
Eventually the skunk bud blossoming in the locked room my invisible friends rented got everyone a little paranoid when the sun rose for another day of cold damp slushy oil ridden snow along the bus routes to soup kitchens. Herb was sitting on my couch sucking on a nitrous balloon I had given him, when we heard a loud cracking noise in the basement..

perv

     I was trippin my brains out of my skull - covering in space like late night stars. Sitting in my father’s 25 thousand dollar spa like pool and patio. Only my eyes were closed, and I was really in the ocean of one’s own mind. Just content for a change, thinking the night could never get any better, staring upwards now, eyeballs like yo yo’s, when suddenly I heard these girls giggling at the gate to the mansion’s backyard. Before my eyes, stood two somewhat younger tipsy-gypsy beautiful females in that early morning air, 2 or 3 am.
     I thought I was hallucinating, so I just sucked on my kind bud joint and stared at these two beauties in full g-string swimsuits with towels around soft girly scented shoulders.
     “We live a few doors down. I’m Sally, and this is Gloria, we wanted to see if it’s cool if we party in your spa.. hee hee. We been wondering who you are, we always see u driving around the neighborhood and shit,” One of them said.
     I wasn’t sure if any of it was really happening, but I went along with it.
     “Sure, come on in ladies, got booze in the fridge, kind bud in the freezer, x in the cupboard, help yourself ladies.” I smiled.
     “Cool,” they both giggled, and disappeared into the house for a minute.
     Then they both came out and got in the bubbly pool like spa with me. I just kept smiling. Not knowing what to say. They started telling me how they just love late nights, and how they just love sex with strangers, and how they just love to do drugs and drink…….
     I still didn’t know what to say, I just kept smiling, getting a rather un- hide- able hard on poking up through my skuzzy boxer shorts.
     I finally decided to speak.
     “How old are u ladies of the night?”
     “18, both going on 50 son” that one said, laughing. Then her friend started laughing, and I started laughing, not even cause it was funny, but just cause I felt like laughing like a mad man.
     “You both have wonderful bodies, and breasts like double full moons,” I blurted.
     “thanks” they said, in between giggles.
     “is it cool if I invite some of my delta sisters over to party here?” the one asked, that hadn’t spoken yet.
     “Of course, long as they are female, and as long as they like to party, we can all get naked and snuggle, ha, ummm, hiccup,” I responded.
     “You are way cool! Dude!” one of them said, snugglin her huge boobs up on my bare chest.
     “Ya, thanks, I try.” I muttered. Stunned.
     “Suck on my nice round titties.” One of them said, as the other one was on a cell phone telling all her other sisters to come party at this rich guys pad.
     I began to suck on yum yums, silver soft dollars and they almost tasted like that zima stuff. I couldn’t have been happier.
     “The rest of the ladies are on the way.” The other one said,
     climbing back into the spa, stripping, and grabbing for my lonely cock.
     As I nibbled away on tits like clouds, breasts like wet dreams.
     “U chicks can come over any time u want.” I smiled.
     “Cool man, lets fuck now.” The one said that was getting her tits sucked.
     “Ok” I said, fuking her doggy style and up side down and shit, while her friend kept grabbing my back with her nails, and digging her cunt into my love handles.
     We all went at it for a very long time. Then relaxed and did some more drugs, and stuff.
     “How did you get so rich?” the one asked.
     These ladies of the night thought this was my palace. I suppose I should play along. I was so wasted and content.
     “I’m a writer, I won the pulvizer surprise for a novel I wrote years ago.” I calmly said, as if it wasn’t a lie, taking a drag off my smoke.
     “The pulvitzer surprise?, man, I heard of that trophy, that’s big time, that’s real neat,” the dumber one said.
     “Ya, I guess it is, aint it?”
     Then all there sisters showed up in these Brazilian like sea shelled bikinis, all had tons of beer, and they even brought pizza!. About 15 of them yapped away, all smiling at me, jumping in the water. Then one of them said….
     “I bet u couldn’t handle it Mr. Pulvitzer winner writer, if we all wanted to fuk your brains out tonight in this backyard of yours!”
     “I’d fuk u all silly!” I quickly responded.
     They all started forming a line to the spa I hadn’t moved from. Giggling amongst themselves, as tops came off, panties thrown in trees.
          I was snorting lines of xtacy off this one girls tits, as the others danced around to some tunes blaring, she was about the 13’th one, when suddenly this horrible ringing in my ears went off.
I woke up to the reality of an hours sleep, and sever xtacy booze pot hangover, with no food in stomach, and realized I was late for my shit job. Realized I still hadn’t been laid in almost a year. I had a huge boner, and no time to jack off. I just wanted to curl back up in my sheets, and finish the dream. But life went on.

System overload

Crustations lap around toiling vertebrae- sounds with buckets filled to brimless avalanches squished together like a lake of tears eating echo no sleep froth red eye pale birds flappin through smoke charmed apparitions in flirtations –seem to size beds made from to many thoughts crowding around temples –skulls banging bongos against cranium ditch weed headed down around ankles to bite little hairs from whiskers popin out my eyeballs-chucking my emotions around like some bowling ball while spitting bones & slander to feed formulations we never quite grasp- cause half slumbering sloshed rolling around in sea weed gorilla suits wondering who took the last ticket fuked fuker fuk geek pud me toad burnt churgle chug the vat of filth from beauty once eye lashed laminated longings hum and yell around ferris wheels made in custard pickle juiced rocket ships shooting from bb guns the size of horse teeth fukin dumb college kids with stupid fukin jerk faces asking for stupid fukin crap hole fuk wad shit ass dumb fukin books, so someday they can have dumb fukin jobs and pay dumb fukin over due taxes with slurped up sausage like face wives with credit card mouths in put put stupid fukin cars- with ugly mutant offspring’s to grow to ugly fukin more college kids asking for more fuking dumb shit fuk crap forget it- lighting wrong ends of cig butts to no avail but a sudden chuckle through the mist formed grubby handed waxed ears landed to button talkers with them mitilda punching walkers. Smile u fuker! smile! Eat carrots while jiz lobbing out your newly waxed ears while puncturing lungs that spew from bathroom stall freak acting like normalcy is a privilege or as if required to be elite in ones gorilla caged nonsense bred rejected retard smiling all around dumb fukin fuk like me- u malt flavored crusty lap dip shit me.

nutter

     Hugo was one of them people that heard things that were never said. The way he interrupted voices- only his mind knew. For example..
     I could say… “ Shit man, was dam hot out today.”
     Hugo would repeat what he thought he heard, saying
     “Dip Jan, toss rot bodies in with gray”
     Then he would just laugh after wards, saying…
     “yah, yah, yah,,” pointing a finger at me..
     I’m not sure what the fuk was wrong with him. I’m no shrink, sometimes it could be really amusing, other times was scary, sometimes just plain annoying. But Hugo was my friend, and for the most part was a good spirited drunk.
     It was usually after he had over smoked, over drank, over drugged, that he started trying to repeat everything one would say, but like I said, it would come out all wrong, he made strange rhymes out of whatever he thought he heard, not really rhymes, but some of the syllables matched up and shit. He was riding on his own space ship without any guests aboard.
     Sometimes when Hugo and me were hanging out druggin and drinkin, I’d here him mumbling little whisper things under his breath while we watched TV, or listened to music. Like he was trying to send me crazy little messages from his freaked out mind, but couldn’t just come right out and say it.
     If this went on too long, I’d finally tell him to shut the fuk up, or say…
     “What dude! What the fuk are u mumbling, speak u freak!”
     Then he would just act like he wasn’t doing anything, start laughing, and point his finger at me saying “Yah, yah, yah, yah, hahahaha, yah man.”
     “What the fuk is wrong with you dude?” I’d ask..
     He’d just laugh. Off in his mental something or other illness mind.
     If he wasn’t crazy, then maybe I was. Maybe it was me. But I’m pretty sure I didn’t just hallucinate the way he behaved. No, I didn’t, couldn’t have, because it happened to often.
     “We should go out to the bar tonight Hugo, try and meet some sluts.” I’d say.
     Then he would pull that crazy fuk wad shit he did so good.
     “Weez mud poe had stout, yah, the bars, last night, treats and tries, fries are good with meet, that’s nuts, I got some peanuts.”
     Then he’d mumble something under his breath about radio waves.
     “What the fuk are u talking about dummy!?” I’d respond to him.
     Like I said, I don’t know what was wrong with Hugo. Some of it was quite fascinating. Maybe I should have studied psychology before I dropped out of college.
     Before I met Hugo, I heard from his sister that he had taken all his clothes off in the parking lot of a some rock concert, gave all his money away, and was picked up by cops walking down the freeway with a book in his hand, thumb pointing west. I never did ask him about it, or what books he may have been carrying.
     Last I heard about Hugo was 3 years ago. Had gotten his fifth drunk driving, and even his folks money couldn’t bail him out of the grip of jonnie law. But I’m sure Hugo is fine. He was a very big man, never violent. But if any one messed with him too much. Well, let’s just say I once saw Hugo beat the shit out of three men all at the same time, after they followed him home for cutting them off in traffic. Hugo was a real nice guy, if you knew him. Even if you didn’t know him, he wasn’t a bad man. Hugo and me were friends, and ‘friends are hard to find at times.’
As Hugo would say.
     ‘Mends bar card grind sat limes’
     “yah , yah, yah, yah!”
     points, with that great quivering grin he had just above his space ship
controls.

Don’t get it

Rip my scalp off and shove it in an empty pickle jar where your juices use to swivel around with the all-knowing fukin goldfish radio re starts. Open the cabinet where u keep the special sectioned toy, as u finish some final chapter to a so called novel know one will ever want to relish in. Chain fukin smoke dog shit cancer sticks- be to lazy to actually read anything, be to lazy to actually call some women’s number- it would only be living that nightmare, in no hurry, pull up the the little chair, and poke the doll in the fukin TV thrown out the window. I’m in big trouble when the feathered tulips suck on the cow’s nipple dipped empty cow milk. I remember jonny telling me once that I was a loser, that I would always be a loser, and I remember thinking that I may have some problems, but now a days, all the things I thought were the problem, become a false temporary solution, like little tiny pills, and days off float by like thunderstorms over head, while I sleep, they polish all that bullshit, to make it nice and shiny, to make it worth the dribbles from mind circles. Take my body when its dead, take the ashes, and dump them into the pacific ocean, so I can swim with wings in the water I felt once before while she said that horrible word love. Little fukin girls with such innocence in their soon to be grown eyeballs, telling lies to a man who should have died in lifeless lives within drunken horseshit babbling love chimes.. oh, pa, fix me a rare steak, so the blood can run down my rain bowed beard, so the blood can feed my craving. Mistakes become life, life becomes mistakes, then one is nothing, nor anything, just everything, like spoken word, gibberish, losing all thought, just some power fed finger type, wanting nothing more then the song to change, yet we re arrange only to catch ones retarded shadow, I can drive, I can smoke, I can fukin smile- fade to swarms in the outside shadows. Glimpses are like the zillionth time of being a drunk in a world of sober/ a world of drunk, none will matter, so jellyfish flies, so long gone, began in time, lost in the found, to crumple up the great words in history, burning clouds, and happy suns, so to nothing, I turn, my body..im walking down this red carpet with a gun in my melted hand, I don’t care about making sense anymore, senseless scents in the incense u never smelled, like balls in microphones people shut off. /to find just an inch of peace for a second would be like the time that belts me in my stubborn head. Doctor agency/ credit check/ worst best/ it all becomes no matter in the babbling days off from torture chamber life rafts soaked in mayonnaise steak chump change buttered frog legs, deep fried give ups shine in this windy raging –cant find my keys. Xtacy is waiting; jenna bush wants to drink with me. there I am with star fish sand shells, my ashes float in centuries gone by. Need a shave.

ideazzz

A naked man holding a salami walks into a 7 11 and asks if they sell any money that hasn’t ever been touched by some dirtball that hadn’t read the final score.

A women dieing of cancer suddenly finds love for the first time over the internet with a new mechanical love donkey that promises to feed her real Mexican food all day long.

A burnt out old man who use to be a writer drinks himself to near death near the oceans waves where he grew up, only to wake up in a shark’s body swimming under the waves with no ink.

A young genius doctor finds a cure for aids, only to over does on heroin that same night, with out ever writing the cure down.

A man on acid, shrooms, nitrous oxide, coke, heroin, suddenly see’s a figure that resembles what he believes could be god, only when he talks to the figure, he notices its lips are sewn shut, and that it holds a crystal ball of crank with a map taped on it.

A loner named Ted who scrapes resin every morning and has abnormal obsessions with the tele tubbies suddenly starts to grow another penis out of his ear, all his eyes can see now is red, there is a knock on his door, and la la is standing there with a lottery ticket.

A prison guard with a bad attitude poisons half of the prisoners in the prison, shoots the other guards, un does the alarms, turns on jonny cash over all the loud speakers, as he randomly chooses dead bodies to have sex with under the raining moonlit sky. He shoots himself in the head after an hour, just as the aliens are coming down from the sky, and cops are closing in.

A chunk of lettuce starts to talk to a schizophrenic lady in a local grocery mart, she takes it home, puts it in a fish tank, names it emerald, it becomes her best friend, gives her psychotherapy everyday, and soon she becomes a productive part of this false society after finally eating the head with some ranch dressing.

A jerk who wants nothing more then love, finds it, then doesn’t no what to do with it. So he goes back to being a hateful horrible man, as his lover finds a new face to strangle some more emotion out of. A rabbit, an ox, a bull frog, and a sultry dancer meet in the woods to discuss politics over some freshly killed fish, they sit around in lawn chairs, in the snow, doing drinks, discussing who will be the chosen one for the revolution that would never come.

A babbling town idiot walks into a Christian bookstore and tells them that god can speak directly through his pet turtle, which has been dead for 3 years. The lady in the store asks if he might like a blowjob. He cries, and runs out into traffic, getting plowed over by a semi truck, with a bumper sticker on it, that says. “God is watching us”

A furry stray cat is fed up of eating out of the garbage, so he buys a mechanism from a gypsy, so that he can speak. And become human for a day- only problem was, he doesn’t speak Japanese, and is in Tokyo.

A young man cuts off his penis while on pcp, soaks it in rabbit blood, wakes up the next day, and two penis’s are now swimming in the rabbits blood, they are French kissing, as his TV spurts out Rosie O’Donnell’s annoying fukin voice. he does more pcp, then calls 911, the paramedics show up, only they kill him, take his drugs, and overdoes in a local park.

A beautiful young women is out taking a walk in the woods at midnight, she meets a man who is half dead, laying in the bushes, moaning, She takes him home to her parents trailer, and nurses him back to health for 3 days. Once the man is better, he tells her who he is, a famous moviemaker, he kills her so that no one would ever know of the incident. He goes on to make more horrible Hollywood lame movies. But has constant nightmares of her nurturing innocent face.
A dog that’s flying around the sun in circles has these devastating images that he could stop spinning at any moment, once the dog realizes that it’s in control of its own destiny, that everything was nothing, it stops flying around the sun in circles, gets adopted by a loving family, and settles into a life of sleep, food, and tail wags.

Lunch party

tanya Harding is eating dinner with Sylvia Plath in a castle when Vladimir nobokov walks in holding a dead half cooked squirrels head in one hand, and a bottle of port in the other, a rubber dildo is attached to his stomach with duct tape.
“Have u both eaten lolita today?” he asks, pouring himself a glass of giggle juice.
“fuk off” they both say.
They are already drunk when Dante walks in holding a pickle jar, which contains rimauds penis or head, it’s hard to make out.
“oh what have we doeth with the oldeth maneth of the hour, me horses bunny rope is withering in the echoed night of charm me peoples.” Dante says.
Rimbauds head moves in the pickle jar. Then his lips say..
“why don’t you shut the hell up, my heads in a dam pickle jar, and all u do is talk like some sophisto at a ball room party, u imbecile.”
“such spite my pet, such spite!” Tanya suddenly yells, throwing her ice skate at Dante’s pickle jar. It connects. Breaks open, smashes to the ground in shards of glass and stench…
And penis head Rimbaud slithers across the wooden floor for safety.
“master master!” rimbaud screams with a pelicans voice.
Dante runs to strangle the bitch Tanya.
He strangles her to death. And Sylvia just screams “ the bell jar the bell jar!”
Dante grabs Plath by the neck.
“shut up bitch, it was a fukin pickle jar!”
ted Hughes shows up while all this is going on with a pet monkey wrapped around his neck.
“wot dee blooty hell is going on here, this is not proper !” he demands in british accent..
Michael Jackson pops out of glossy silver door with a Faulkner book in hand.
He was hiding in the ginger bread mans house. He has an ak 47, and yells….
“who the fuk invited u to wonderland ted!”
he fires non-stop, till Ted’s body tumbles over in a heap of bloody dead human flesh.
They all calm down for a while cause cheech shows up without chong, but he has some primo skunk bud. They all sit around and smoke. With out speaking a word. When suddenly Hemmingway kicks the door open!
“ who’s got the booze u dead fukin worthless fuks!” he screams…
they all laugh.. hahahahahaha.. moose heads on wall laugh.. hahahahahahahahaha…
then Fitzgerald shows up drunk, nobody invited him..
Hemmingway gives him a nasty look.
“hello , and a good jolly fookin day to all!” Fitzgerald screams, pulling out a bottle of Canadian mist, that’s half gone.
Hemmingway puts on his pride robe to greet this new guest. He turns to Sylvia Plath and rips her head from her shoulders and throws it at Fitzgerald stomach with super man strength. Fitzgerald doubles over and starts horking up his lunch, then his stomach lining shoots from his gut like a sweaty skin pink orange colored balloon, and he chokes on it.
“hey man, that wasn’t cool dude, u should just chill out man.” Cheech says to Hemmingway.
“what and who are u?” u grimy looking hobo fuk!” Hemmingway demands.
Dante is now eating what remained of rimbaud, walking around in circles, hitting cheech’s weed.
“just chill, just chill” cheech tries to say.
Hemmingway slumps down in a corner of the room and pulls out a notebook to write in.
Ee cummings walks in dressed in drag with a bag of popcorn and asks where the keg is?
“in my pants cock sucker” Michael Jackson says, in that Michael Jackson voice. Cummings pulls out a dagger, runs quickly at the skinny deformed elephant man loving soft spoken tinted black man child star, he holds the knife to jacksons scrawny throat..
“and what did u say now mate?” he demands
Michael starts trying to moon walk while the knife slits his throat open. And out comes about thirty frank Sinatra miniature freak aliens, they all have legs like centipedes, and are singing some old hank Williams song. Everyone gets up, and stomps around till they have squashed them all. Dante starts collecting their dead remains all into a new pickle jar he found in the basement. That’s when Shakespeare rolls in jd slinger in a wheel chair. Everybody looks up. I mean everybody that was still alive…
Cheech passes Holden, I mean jd, a freshly packed bong load and says…
“I didn’t know u were still alive, been writing much these days?”
Shakespeare whispers something in jd’s ear, like a dirty lawyer, informing his client..not to speak…
That’s when Thomas Wolfe comes in holding hands with jack keroauk, they are walking a dog on a leash that has the head of allen ginsburg, which is yapping, and barking, allens asshole seems to be the shape of William s burrohs, Hemmingway notices it, but doesn’t say anything.. that’s when Anthony burgess walks in with a glass of milk and says…
“vitty well me lil droogies, vitty well!”
Shakespeare is really pissed off looking at Anthony.
“who the fuks he?” shakes whispers into jd’s ear..
“that’s not Holden, he’s a bloody imposter I tell u! kill him shaky kill him!”
“do what?”
Cheech tries to pass them another huge joint to calm the nerves.
Everybody looks at the scene for a second, or so, maybe for a zillion year minute.
and turns a cold shoulder, fluffing there pretty hair in the air..waiting to make the next move between life , death, and all the literature in-between.. “I’d like to hear some Ludwig!” burgess yells
Cummings sharpens his dagger, staring over at Hemmingway and Shakespeare.
Sylvia plath’s headless naked body starts walking around doing a strip tease for all the confused souls.
With cheers and fermented yells like some distant game between all the critics tucked in cozy safe beds with alarm clocks set, bellies satisfied for the second gone.
Jd suddenly falls out of his wheel chair, clutching Hemmingway’s leg, while Shakespeare acts as maid, gardening, recluse and amigo.. like mother in spandex, like thrillers in the shelves, like moon walks over words… these spent thoughts…like father’s counting their enemies in fields of alligators with rose colored contracts among the nut ball wasted time in military minded college fuk u…..in-between books at work… in-between no sleep and the globe dangling on finger tips, like some boxer falling in slow motion, knocked out, gone! I aint here. Won’t remember nothing in the morning… I aint here, aint no where..fuk me , fuk u

Bobs dilemmas

     It was a Friday night in the big state of Texas. Bob was feeling upset and alone. Bob drank all morning and smoked dirt weed.
     Then something went really wrong. He had another episode. They came and went. Sometimes none for months. Sometimes every night they came, and built their houses around his freshly painted skull head.
     The doors slamming, music, the writing, movies, books, fools, smiles, none of that could help Bob when the episode occurred.
     Not when the music skipped too many times, punch the fridge as all the little stolen magnets come crashing down. Knock the stereo. Yep, that’s Bob for you. After almost destroying his room, he wished he had a gun, but he didn’t, he thought of other ways of killing himself, but decided to try and call some mental health departments around the city.
     Surly the hospitals must have a mental health department, he dialed number after number, with the same voices attaching to different phone receiver faces, and got the same thing. “We cant help u Bob, try this number, we cant help u Bob, try this number,” on and on it went. Bob’s depression and alcohol consumption began to get the better of him.
     Now he was contemplating different ways to end it. Maybe he could smash his truck off a freeway over pass; maybe he could park his truck and jump into an oncoming semi truck.
     Maybe he could buy a huge block of ice, wrap a belt around his neck connected to the two buy four ceiling fan, and just wait for it to melt. Or he could walk into a police station, tell the officers he has a bomb and is going to kill all the little piggies.
     Bob snapped his head together for a moment,
slammed the phone down. He had been on hold for 30 minutes.

unexpected

Vertro got home from work, checked in with his cat. Proceeded to pour himself a drink, living in his parent’s garage apartment at the age of 31. Vertro was a loner, and liked it that way. He had tried to trust human beings, tried to love, to be friends with others. But something always went wrong. something really bad. He preferred to be alone now, with his cat, his booze, tore tear memories, and addictions. His writings.


He was colder then his dark brown eyes. Vertro sat staring at walls in complete silence for many hours, meditating, drinking, and telling his cat to “fuk off! Get away from me!”

His cat climbed the walls that talked to vertro, his cat bit into cable wires, his cat ripped down curtains, his cat bit his ankles.

Vertro’s phone rang. It was midnight . he answered it half drunk, half stoned, of course.

“wha?” he mumbled….

“vertro?” a female voice asked.

“maybe, who’s this?”
Vertro questioned, he was paranoid..
He Always sort of knew something would come back to haunt him from his past.

“it’s me Helen, remember me? when u were 19 and I was 15?, we lived in the same town..” she said, taking a hit off a cig..

“Helen who?” vertro questioned..

“I see u are still a self centered asshole vertro,” she said laughing an evil laugh..

“who is this? what do u want?” he questioned, scratchin his leg in a hurried fashion..

“u really don’t remember me vertro?”

“I might, give me some hints.. who are u? I don’t remember last week, let alone all the one night stands..”

“it wasn’t a one night stand asshole, we dated for 3 weeks.”

Vertros mind thought hard..really hard, digging into the memory bank.

And he remembered her now, a sick flash of the past sparked through his brain like a bolt of lightning.

“I’m sorry, I do remember now, your blue eyes, your blonde hair, u enjoyed
drinking wine coolers,,,”

“yes, yes, u are catching on idiot! Vertro the retard! Isn’t that what u use to always call yourself as people gathered around to listen to your bullshit
philosophies and lies about where the world was headed!? Hmmm.. well fuk ?!!!!”


“why are u calling me anyway? How did u even know where I moved to?, that shit was a century ago, “ vertro said, sippin his whiskey. nervously..

“why did I call u! why did I call u! why did I track u down! U fuker! Why do u think!”

“I got no clue man, u tell me!” vertro said, getting twitchy..

“what did u tell me that night, what! U said.. oh baby doll, we don’t need a rubber, oh baby doll, I want to feel your pussy without a rubber.. those words ring a bell! Asshole!”

“not really, I could have told u we were both aliens for all I remember.. what are u getting at anyway, why are u calling me after all these years…?”

“u selfish fuk.. u came inside me! and u left town! With out ever even calling me back! 3 weeks we dated! And I did everything u said. I let u have your way with me! I fukin loved u- at least I thought I did! u sick bastard!”

“love? What? Love.. I don’t know about this.. who is this.. loved me? me loved u? no such thing as love.. is this some sort of joke?”
vertros asked, half crying…

“yes dickhead, figured it out yet.. oh no baby doll, why is your voice getting so gulpy?, hmmm? Haven’t u felt the presence of your child at all! Jerk off!”

“my child? Now look u crazy bitch, I remember we hung out for a few weeks, and I left u, moved to another town and shit, but that’s how life is man.. people move on, u know, I never meant to hurt u..”

“hurt me! oh u son of a bitch, u hurt me plenty, but it aint about me anymore, its about your fukin daughter! Asshole!”

“my daughter.. ha, shut up. I don’t have any kids.. u crazy bitch, u always were crazy.. shut the fuk up, my daughter.. ha..”

Helen began to cry..
vertro hated to hear a woman cry..

“oh, come on man, what are u trying to pull here? Don’t cry,, im sorry, it was along time ago.. it sounds like u may need some professional help, I don’t have no daughter.., just relax..”

“no u fukin asshole! u do have a daughter, and she is almost 12 and a half now! U sick fuk! I never searched for u for child support or tried to find out what ever happened to u all this time, cause I hated u with all my fukin heart.. for never calling me again! U fukin asshole! gawd, u fool, she is the most beautiful thing in my life.. and I broke down tonight and drank. and our daughter has been having problems.. your daughter asshole.. and I just can’t handle this all by myself anymore! Would u like to say hello to your fukin daughter! Her name is eve! Just like u said, that u loved that name eve!, u fuk, u are such a fuk!!!! Do u know what I have bin through trying to raise her alone!!!! Say hi to your fukin daughter!”
the phone sounded like it smashed into a wall..

vertro could hear a small girls voice, asking.. “mommy , mommy, whats wrong?”
“pick up the phone, it’s your gawd dam worthless daddy!” the lady screamed..

a voice came to the phone.
Vertroe was frozen, tears pouring down his face, nick drake playing on the stereo.
“daddy?” the little girl asked..

“sweetheart. My baby girl?” he questioned, sobbing uncontrolled ably.

“why did u upset mommy daddy, how come mommy told me u were dead?”

vertro sat there frozen. Tears poured down his face. It had to be a bad dream. It just had to be, something snapped in his mind. The song played over and over again, black-eyed doggy, black-eyed doggy..

“daddy?” the lil girl questioned..

He dropped the phone.. smashing it with his feet.. he put it back on the hook, it was half smashed, broken, scary. It rang, and it rang, till 6 am..

Vertro sat in a corner of his garage apartment, sucking his thumb, with a half crazy smile licking up all those tears. His cat wasn’t biting anymore. It was licking his tired eyes. It’s all a bad dream, its all a bad dream, he told himself, as the phone rang off the hook..

Wondering what to do, he pulled out a one of his guns, curled up in his closet, and listened to his cat purr, as he loaded the fukin bullets..and realized what a complete asshole he had always bin..

Shadow

published credits:

Unlikely Stories | Exquisite corpse | Driver's Side Airbag | Budget Press
the Adirondack Review | Anti Hero Art | Progress | Bardo Burner | Fiction and Poetry society | the ho!d | Saga | Tales from the Vault | Carved in Sand | Physikgarden | 3 A.M.Publishing | MindKites | The Blue Review
Beehive | The Sidewalks End | San Francisco Salvo | Mind Haven
Creative Voice | 7th Circle