London Crypt Gone Sail By My Bed

London crypt gone sail by my bed

With thousands of goblin shouts resonating in my head

The spun lights go shining into the moon

And all the livid make limits of right and wrong that are going to break soon

And the dam will bust and we’ll erupt

A revolution of Light Headed Corrupts

London crypt gone sail by my bed

And thousands of images of campus running like lightening through my head

And all of them dying save god

Who sits upstairs from reality in an imaginary pod

With all the mathematics for Singularities and Wormholes

And all the brown nosers and A-holes

London crypt gone sail by my bed

And I decided to go back to sleep instead

I Feel Like You’re Watching Me

I feel like you’re watching me

As though I must perform

I awoke with my hand in water

And my sheets were warm

I feel like you read just the beginning

Cause the end is just death

But I put it in the middle

So what do I have left?

I feel like you are judging me

Every poem that you read

I feel like you are zombies

That need my brain to feed

I feel like you are following me

Just to find ideas to use

And I’m watching you

As I increase in USA views

I feel like I’m getting to you

I feel like I’m under your skin

I feel like the poison I got

I can finally slide in

Just Talk Inside Your Head All Day

Just talk inside your head all day

And go to write and have nothing to say

Just have experiences so absurd

And go to write and can’t find the words

Just walk and think it all the way through

And then go to write and write things untrue

Just spiraling down in suicidal voices

And then go to write and just hear noises

Just getting impatient and even homicidal

And then go to write and the guilt is unwritable

Just at war with everyone and exploding in hate

And then go to write and feel an inexpressible weight

Then on the edge of life your answer to it all is glib

You wanted to write all your life – but never did!!

Your Boyfriend Is Big

“Your boyfriend is big” I said

She looked at me like I was stating something obvious

But I was inferring that he might see me with her and beat the shit out me

“Do you have any lip gloss?” she asked

I laughed “do you know many guys who carry lip gloss?”

My smile faded

Did I insult her?

“Arlan carries lip gloss”

I just sort of looked away.  This wasn’t going well

“What do you do all morning?  I tried calling” she said

“I write” I said

“Write?  Like pad and paper?”

“No a computer”

“On a blog?”


“What do you write about?” she asked

“This” I said and moved my hands around indicating now, this, here, everything

But she didn’t seem to understand

“What are you doing?” she asked confused

Just then Arlan showed up

He sat next to his girlfriend

And I nodded hello to him

He kissed his girlfriend once

And then glared at me

“I’ll go” I said “if you want”

“No” said Arlan “stay a bit.  Tell me about yourself.  What do you do?”

“I don’t do anything” I said

“He writes” his girlfriend said

“Writes” he mocked

“Yeah” I said

Arlan ate one of my fries and looked straight into my pupil

“About what?” he said

“This” I said

“And what do you mean by this?”

“Like.  If for instance a theme runs through something in my day”

“You write about it?”


“Are you gonna write about this?”


“What are you gonna say?”

“Well it depends on how things turn out”

“And what is the theme” Arlan said eating another of my fries “that runs through this?”

“Sexual jealousy” I said

Arlan nodded

His girlfriend stared at me with mouth agape

Arlan looked at her

Then he looked back at me exuding a toughness only seen in large men

“You’re alright” he said “but you can go now”

And I paid my bill

And left

I didn’t even finish my fries


As you write I’m going to tighten this strap

Don’t remove the headphones; even if you don’t like rap

As you write I’m going to turn the screw

And with a third eye you will see the truth

As you write I’m going to push an envelope inside

The contents containing the news that we die

As you write I’m going to pull tight the rope

And inject your arm with straight dope

As you write I’m going to light a blow torch

And leave your legs completely scorched

As you write I’m going to find you a terrible mate

And they will inevitably make you hate

As you write I’m going to dig a giant hole

And when you finish down you go

Writing wasn’t at all the goal

Over your eyes the wool was pulled

And you don’t get to become anything

You are just culled

You’re Being Ostentatious

“I’m a feminist” Dave said

“Ah, that’s not good material” I said “you might upset someone”

“Well I am”

“Don’t you have to be a woman to be a feminist?”

“Do you have to be a dog to love dogs?”

“That’s not a very good analogy”

“It’s not an analogy”

“Do you know what an analogy is?”

“No” Dave said “but I love women”

“That’s not what feminism is” I said

“What is it then?”

“Look” I said “I don’t feel comfortable discussing this.  It’s a touchy subject right now”

“Touchy?  What you don’t care about the issue?”

“I don’t know enough”

“You don’t have an opinion of the suppression of women?”

“I don’t suppress women.  They seem to suppress me”

“But you’re not every man”

“Certainly not” I said “look.  Let’s talk about Dead Souls instead”

“Nobody has read that”

“Well nobody is going to read this with the dicey topic you picked”

“It’s not dicey” Dave said “it’s simple.  Women deserve as much money in the workplace as men”

“That’s not what Jim Jeffies says”

“Who’s that?”

“He’s a comedian”

“Why would you listen to a comedian on this?”

“I don’t know.  I think comedians are smart”

“You are an ass.  You could have picked a female comedian you fucking idiot”

“Oh come on.  You’re gonna cause a bunch of writers block”


“You are being ostentatious”

Dave stared at me for several seconds

“You’re being ostenta…sten…fuck you” he said

I’ll Be Back (In A Day)

I’ll be back in a day

To see you work with the clay

And you no longer pray

You know we die one day

Because that’s what I always say

I’ll be back in a week

To check what you wrote

To read it all

And leave an encouraging note

I’ll be back in a month

To see what you painted

And judge how original it is

Or how tainted

I’ll be back in a year

To see if your ideas are clear

Or if you are crying

And filled with strange fear

I’ll be back in a decade

To see what you made

To see the art that you create

And to laugh with you

One last time

That so fast

We seem to be dying