Today's #2,because #1 would not of worked out well anyways
I'm at total war with myself and losing far more than i care to remember.
i need to touch strangling smog of bigger city streets,
breathe busted concrete potholes,
sinking sidewalks where the drunks sit and ask for beer money.
paper box coupons for pizza places
and smell the streets choke the life out of me.
soak in my neon eclipse surroundings;
a long past dead sponge waiting to be tossed to terrible fates.
spend days locked up in a back bedroom,
writing possessions on the walls plain East of the Dead sea.
painting murals with a pen sent to me from Amsterdam of destruction,
i need to be openly confusing and awkward.
a made up play taking the world by storm, act one scene four,
reciting out loud insecurities and objections to myself
until someone else sees what i sawed in half.
my nightmares mock me and fade before i can remember them when i wake.
climbing mountains to clarify crumbling ideas
and fantasies that would never come to fruition.
maybe i need to isolate myself,
kill this parasite in me;picking ideas apart.
John Carpenter had the right idea with "The Thing".
these possessions have owned their owner far too long,
tamed like a circus bear.
we need decent open violence to live free,
beer bottles flying overhead in dive bars,
cussing truths so patrons five booths down can whisper about you.
bump shoulders of people with style,
striking poses to pull in the eyes off future lovers.
i want strange people,
striking new conversation to reinvent myself;
yet comfortable enough to pass truths as table card poker.
i don't know how to play poker,
i'm just there for the smoke
and shoot you in the gut looks.
i'd carve my own gravestone if i had not already choose to be cremated.
Japan you mock me as a jailhouse bird,
Germany jerks me around.
the Netherlands i strait up lied to,
Russia you spin me right round baby right round.
even if i were a bowl of cheerios that doesn't give you the right to piss in it,
unless you buy me dinner first.