Category Archives: Everything and Nothing

Tools of the trade

Like the fat fuck doctor handing over vicodin
to the boy in pain who doesn’t yet know
he should say ‘go kill yourself’
instead of ‘okay’

Like dufflebags full of crystal methamphetamine
that used to be made in America
until it got outsourced
just like everything else

Like vacuum-packed on diplomatic flights
to South Korea—China—the Philippines
by the psychopathic soldiers & agents
without an ounce of morale left

Like making billions pushing synthetic opiates
while thousands of misled victims are dying
turning to heroin laced with fent
chasing their own tails until the end

Like turning a blind eye to the kilograms
of legal fentanyl analogs
exported from China—
North Korea can only dream of such success—

Like Duterte’s son getting caught
red handed moving millions in shabu
Triad tats on his back
—no one does a thing

Like shooting up after eating McDonalds
driving your Chevy Geo out of the parking lot
onto the road chucking your used needle
into the gutter from an open window

Like not even knowing there’s a lethal threshold
that you are going to want to pass
to get the same degree of feeling
you had the first time—it’s already gone—

Like taking your usual maintenance dose
that you thought was from the same source
nodding off on the toilet
never waking up again

Like writing a book about the Clinton’s
cocaine Arkanicide rise to political power
getting shot in the head
—suicided on the top of a hillside

Like the opium wars all over again
forever without an end in sight
whole entire neighborhoods set up
to be harvested for prisoners

Like feeding them risperidone for profit
in solitary confinement
guilty of nothing
but a lifestyle

Like how my generation statistically
is the drunkest one ever to walk
the face of the earth
—I wonder why that is

Like how before it was legal
for the CIA to brainwash the public before 2011
there were shows like Friends
all the chicks wanted to watch

Like no matter how much effort
you put into unlearning & training
your mind—there it is again every time
you talk to almost anyone

Like not giving a fuck
if you don’t like my poem
—go shove your head back into the sand
pretend everything is perfectly fine—

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Celtic flux tube disorder

I’m at the intersection
going left

I’m at the intersection
going right

I’m at the intersection
going down

I’m at the intersection
going up

I’m at the intersection
going forward

I twist this way
—then that

never knowing which
way I’ll be going—

never going back
the way I came—

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Confronting a black bear 

It’s uncertain how much the ponderosa pine
arches phallically from the dry diablo winds racing
down from the hurricane highlands of Nevada 
taking some of us away in the dead of night
who drove off the invisible roads down cliffsides
no tail lights guiding the way out
whose gone missing in the gusts until it’s over
to be declared charred dead as the night
or our country disassembled into fragments
like candy strewn from a cheap rainbow piñata
all over the ashes to be had for the taking
even if he can’t see it’s black shadow of a face
its paws pound the earth ruffling fallen leaves
the shape of it’s massive muzzle is visible
by the empty space between it’s teeth
as it breathes openmouthed five yards away
like a drum made out of mad savage meat
deciding between running back to the fires
further away up the hill into the unknown
or toward the man firing a warning shot
thunderlegged with his black oak rifle
into the backdrop of spinetingling darkness






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Controlled demolition of society

Sweaty palms that slide down
wherever you end up tossing
a pale down the well at midnight
splashes out of you again—

You’re not above it in the hills
the greydeath of falling dust in the streets—
the dryrun symbolism is enough—

In the dark I listen to your fingers
break one by one and for a moment
I wonder what I’m doing here—

You want to break it
break it away from them—

I want somethin’ to do
somethin’ to die for—

I dont want
anything to do
with you—

I want somethin’ to do
somethin’ to die for—

I dont want
anything to do
with you—

How many times
has the facade fallen—
there’s no better time than now
to drop the complacency
and want something better—

You wanna cry
about how it won’t work
’cause you need somethin’ to do—
you need somethin’ to do—

Yeah—sometime after they did nine eleven—
endless wars and soldier suicides
I think I stopped giving a fuck—
or what was it—the drone killings
growing exponentially without any regard
for the innocent—the widespread surveillance—
oh—maybe human trafficking—
yeah—the kids in Haiti—
Laura changed her last name after that—
it’s no wonder guys are going mad
with guns like they do every day
in countries used as proxies & pawns—
it all just kinda mashes together
after a while doesn’t it?

Or have you spent so long
getting your brain legally stomped in
at the surface that none of this
means anything to you?

U.$.A. flies it’s false flag
wherever there’s a need
for distortion of reality—
there it is right in your face
yet you still can’t even see it—
got a million articles on google telling you
you’re insane for thinking a pizza place in DC
could harbor a “Haitian special”

You wanna play ping-pong
with people and their minds?

Try to make sure next time the guy you pay
to take the fall doesen’t have an IMDB page—
and that your fake French name
doesen’t bring up damning screenshots
from your now private instagram—

I want somethin’ to do
somethin’ to die for—

I dont want
anything to do
with you—

I want somethin’ to do
somethin’ to die for—

I dont want
anything to do
with you—


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Captain’s log 

Some of you may know that I’ve been experimenting with fiction for some time now. After a couple of failures trying to write a novel it became apparent to me I had much studying to do before I could even think about trying again. That was two years ago. Now I have a rough draft basically done on this new project that is currently entitled The Needles of Ahuehuete and 106,000 words. I have it set up so that a part 2 is doable as an addition to the novel or sequel whenever I feel like writing it but I also like where and how this one ends too.

Now here’s where you potentially come into the scene: I’m requesting a hand full of copy readers who are willing to go over it and tell me how much it sucks. If you speak spanish that is huge to me right now as the whole book takes place in cental/south America from the first person perspective of an American while travelling. He knows some spanish and has a digital translator on his tablet but it’s not always available for use. Sometimes the protagonist Tommy has only a sliver of an idea what anyone is saying while other times there is a bilingual character that acts as the stories translator and even then there is a language barrier. Since the translation was done with google I can’t even consider doing anything with this until I’ve had someone whose not a gringo verify it all sounds right. It was fun to write this way though I feel like it simulates what the experience is like… although much more dramatically.

Contact me here if interested: Kontakter

What else? Some notes… I have a burning desire to get good at writing fiction. I love the experience of reading a good book that just sucks you in like a black hole and blows your mind. Am I there yet? Oh hell no! But I’m getting closer every time I try. I’m going to keep trying until I can start selling these things and people love them. I like that poetry is something I have no desire to monetize. It’s my place to play and say and do whatever I feel like. And I like that fiction makes me feel the opposite way and gives me a space to potentially create to market. Even if I never sell a single book it’s damn fun trying.

I get sucked into writing almost the same way reading does. I get to create these worlds and live in them before you do. In some aspects that’s what it’s all about… but that wouldn’t be the whole story.

I just finished writing and am planning on going over it once in the next few days, eating a bunch of acid, and then sending out the drafts when I come back. I already have a new idea for another plot/novel and may just start focusing on that depending on the type of feedback I get. 

Genre: Fiction / Sci-fi / Realism

P.s If it takes me a little longer than expected to send these out don’t trip I will get to it soon… there’s not exactly any time frame on this and it’s not like I’m in any hurry… thx

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