idea for a great movie

i thought she really liked jim carrey.
shivers, shoot my...
thoughts, we could be alone here.
‘cept for you know who?
red rocket glares and cinnamon flashbombs
voldemort?
feels like we should talk a little bit closer.
know, like the bad guy?
she says, harry potter? But when
did a bitch get time?
it was darker then and her glowing mouth
distracted.
i knew it was going to be an alien. Why
would she say this?
unless she’s *gasp* sear my zig-zag taint scar
kill me if I ever look like that.
conundrum ponderosum…
great restaurant.

don't matter

i share my matter with someone
that really matters. Kinetic specks or
lightning bugs, neon reminders
of everything I’ve never done.

these dirty hands are
clean somewhere
this quiet peace contains all the noise
i’ll never hear

weaving threads to
woven threadpoints
thin is thicker
broken lines grow forever
through gritted teeth or
twisted smiles
i take up space
on these crossing wires and
blip
when it’s my turn

danger de mort ou de blessure grave

cancel my
check, I got
crick neck, this
nonsense don’t
mean shit, the
meanest shit
around here
abouts to show
yous a secret
plain box says
your heart and
beat budda
beat budda
beat budda,
beat beat beat.
i calls 5
oh, them messy
face kids line
up, block the
block to see
that red red
stream out that
broke broke head.

to get away

it’s always nice
to get away.
when you can
get away
it’s nice.
but there’s always here
and here’s always there
and here’s a motherfuck
to ignore.

unfit

comfy like
the overinflated blue balloon
hands up
breath in
sharpie smile
a real wafter.

not there like
sometimes or always,
certainly never
integral.

but luckily,
they give jobs to retards now
important ones
answer phones needed
put them in your pocket
and sit on it.

things that pu-zuzzle me

the burnt french.
Brisket Orvhen.
killers take two.
long saying goodbye.
Brakhage films.
me seeing me.
fom beyond the grave.
greyer things.
dismal dresscodes.
having a goooood.
time, but not.
worshipping Ba’al.
but one.
some one, always gets left out.
hosing down a hot rock.
to stand on.
just because.
we don’t know how to.
diagnose accidents.
wahoozawizzle.

last night some

pigeon holed howler, some
bobble-headed bobbler, some
barnyard hooty-tooter, some
pillow-biting backpacker, some
panty sniffing gambler, some
rumble-bumbling ruff and tumbler, some
grandpa-faced racial profiler, some
young jew punker, some
tobacco chawing sampler, some
ripe fart, some
bimbo tart, some
mumbo, some
jumbo, some
friend of little black sambo
stepped on my heel and
i’ll never be the same again.