Shacked Up

37886wideI was shacked up with a beautiful
alcoholic brunette
who liked to make love on rainy
hungover mornings.
When we’d get done
she’d make us both a stiff drink
and we’d dance to music
as the sound of rain
hammered the windows
in the grey dawn. After 5
whiskeys
I’d start reciting my poetry
on top of our kitchen
table. She’d screech out
“you’re never gonna make it,
you fuck.”

“Fuck you” I’d retort,
“I’m a fucking genius,
you just can’t see it
cause you’re a fucking drunk.”

Then I’d make us both
a stiff drink
and we’d make love again
as the rain came down
and never stopped.

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Prove You’re Alive

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I do a lot of solo traveling during my time off from work. When you travel by yourself and you’re able to forgo certain comforts & luxuries of modern day life, you can travel very inexpensively.

Everyone should do it every now and then. It’s healthy, revitalizing, and you feel this deep sense of freedom like no other. I think it’s the best type of therapy in a world gone mad.

Anyways, for me, I like to fill up a backpack once in a while, grab my camera, buy a plane ticket, and just go. I like facing the unknown. This is how I beat death in life. Continue reading

Don’t Be Like Them

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Don’t be like them. They want you in the ranks,
the mob — the clan of dullards who want you
to live according their stifling ideals.

They want you brain dead and
soul dead like them. They want
you to work the 9-5. They want
you in a cubicle. They want you
to be a sitcom watcher. They want
you to pledge to their flags and
worship their gods. They want you
take a side. They want you to settle
with their politics and vote for
their two-faced leaders.

They need to be led
because they’re too weak
to lead themselves. Continue reading

The Chains they Crave

Their opinions are frail
but they hold to them vigorously

Their arguments are predictable
but they think they’re on to something

They never consider the unintended
consequence of their opinions

They just react as if their opinions
hold the answer

They just preach as if they’ve
found the remedy

They’re not interested in questioning
their own opinions

They’re not interested in consulting history
to assess what they believe

They watch the news like it’s telling
them something useful

They don’t know they’re
being fed rubbish

They don’t know they’re
being fooled into something

They cling to their politics
in times of dismay

They clamor for more laws
thinking that’s the way

They look to politicians to save
them from the day

Poor slaves

They know not the chains
they crave

Dark Dens of Wisdom

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A little black coffee in my mug,
walkin’ the dingy, dusty aisles
for hours taking in the musty scent
of century-old hardbacks. Browsing
the shelves, reading vintage
love-letters scribbled on back covers
from a time no more. Flipping through
wine-stained pages. Finding rare little
gems stacked in the back where
Poe sits sullenly on top Tolstoy.
Dostoyevsky next to Dante.

It’s so damn tragic
that these second-hand
bookshops – these dark
dens of wisdom –
are slowly vanishing
into the crevices
of time.

New Years Eve

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it’s the end of the year and the rats are here
to feast on the carcasses left behind. what
a devastating year, they groan, you can
see it — seething in the eyes, the fear,
the monotony of ravaged lives jampacked
in shopping centers, defeated, trying to consume
their way out of their self-imposed bondage.

and the easily amused sit on couches
with sugary smiles
as they binge-watch their
own destruction.

the voices of dead poets’ float around
unheard, and the books of Dostoyevsky
collect dust while the prophecies of
Orwell and Huxley unravel as Nietzsche’s
Last Man sits comfortably numb among us
weak and tainted like the idle
blood in his elastic veins.

the frail, riddled with disease,
have found glory in their sickness.

frightened by life and fueled
by resentment
they prey upon the strong
and paint their own feebleness
as virtuous.

it’s New Years Eve, and a hollow
gaiety floods the streets
along with a heavy blast
of fireworks
to welcome in the
resurrection
of a new age.

i pack a few essentials in my backpack —
2 books
a flask
and a knife
and walk out into it.