crime statistics

every morning i forget
that we're not together
that's a ponzi memory.

in the happy position of saying
fuck my wants, i encourage
the bloggity biozome. ammonium nitrites
sit in boxcars next to the groves
that feed the world. fuzzy balls
line the shoes of the next text based
tag team. why wouldn't you understand
that passage is just iron moving
along preconfigured pathways? i mean
it seems so obvious to the initiated...






















*(&&&







in the toweling off morning
sun is a straight player
canceling night. those dreams
pass like lives bent on compromise
and tea parties. you tell me something's
clawing to get out. i tell you to
set up a blog. wonder is the next
thing, then looking for motorcycles
on the back of the monster truck metaphore.
there was something about a purple angel
but i've forgotten its first name.
you have four days to reconstruct
the tourette's chemically
then the workweek will come to get you again.

if i could be a pirate i might
meet you on the open sea. i gave my eyepatch
to a pennyroyal so i have to put away
childish things. however
i have they key should someone
care to open the door again.
passwords clamber to be spoken.
genetics tick to ignition.
if you called me i'd be the first to know.






















*)&&&&




have another pipe.
i want to do something wrong today.
break into a seed bank. set fire
to the ocean. eat lime
flavored pop tarts. steal
your name. you can keep the heart
i have my own i've been trying to give away
but it's like belly fat, the redhead step
kid, backstroke of fly in your soup.
always in threes and sixes and nines.
carbon's balmy isotopes. the poet blind
sides the scientist and everyone
gets lost in some new line break
out fad. some small difference
between infection and regeneration
picks the lock on erudition
and dares you to read
the toxic spill from my head
rather than your own.
heh. didn't think so. it's been
too long since the hairs on the back
of my arm stood up in response
to your photonic touch. touche
is the last word you sent
complete with return address and zip
code. zip up your pants woman
he's put it away, yet again. what if
both girls like you at the same
time? what then homey, what thin
pencils can you use to make your list
which lengthens; a sexual response
in a nudist camp. not
at all, bro not at all. the crime
would be putting your clothes back on
like adam told eve wtf put on a shirt.
i'm sure it was adam. chirst,
you know eve took the first bite.
she pays in blood every month
while he just sits in jail
looking at the bars, and all the girls
in the bars, and all the babies
in the girls and all the gods in the babies he's
unemployed again, just like gabriel
suggested with that big flaming sword
so we get on the last gallon of gas
pour into the some mileage east
and let the surf take care of the rest.