TUESDAY

itches i can’t name
all over this broken
thing all tattered up
and covered in holes
the itch means healing
but i can’t tell the new scars
from the old ones
anymore,
every day i stain something
else with my blood,
the pale gaunt face full
of larvae like a nervous addict,
which i am, and was, and will be,
til sliver by sliver with dirty nails
i tear apart the rest of me and
pick to pieces the remains still
searching for something
anything
of value

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8.9.17

he was at once somehow equally handsome and perverse, with a bit of a hunch from habitually lowering his height to interact with those around him. a life full of forced bowing as if bound to some socially obligatory servitude.

yet this servitude to others, it touches us all — forms a grid, a matrix to which we attach ourselves and from those fixed points create an extended reality. we have shaped it upon the play ground which was provided by mother nature. she threw down the backdrop and now is watching the scene unfold. the grand comedy. cheers Ma.

this net above us is held in place by our own hands and those of our neighbors. in public we expect things of people, and we reaffirm these expectations by accepting that things should be expected of us in the first place as a natural reality. we reinforce that reality by engaging actively in it regardless of our stance(i.e. being “anti-capitalist” but continuing to purchase new items)

peer pressure is the weight of the collective stare of a given population as it turns and questions everything about you in an instant. it is heavy. it is painful. It is a weight that serves to keep us in our places by allowing us to force manipulated behaviors onto others: with narrowed eyes we say, “because you are different, i doubt you.” that type of prohibitive garbage.

who knows. cosmic crap. remember to keep in close contact with friends and not be an asshole. 
suerte. 

LÍNEAS 

todo tiene su límite y tú
tienes muchos
pero ninguna de ellos
sirve para mantenerme
lejos
de ti
una bomba química, lo llamas
esta cosa que nos une y nos
tortura como sal en las heridas que me
das y que te doy, rodillas raspadas,
piedras incrustadas en el piel,
falta de dormir y pesadillas de amores perdidos
y otros monstruos,
líneas de sangre, de cocaína,
todas esas líneas que tengo y que meto
entre tú y yo pero ninguna de ellas
sirve para mantenerte
lejos
de mí

UNHINGED 

spit them out, these wasted days and wet-green nights rising up from your esophagus to greet against anyone’s will your
lovers and your sisters and your friends and your parents make them
worry for you but never too much just enough to catch a whiff of the smoldering
human brains on stone tiled floors where
the
cold gets in so easy feel it creeping up the carnage contaminated by the time
it grabs your feet and legs to drag you under
i’m okay, i’m okay — you’re shoveling shouting reaching out to grab hold of whatever’s in reach
creamy rose pink with green sparkles dribbles thick makes you feel
safe watching feel the grip slip this is how we
fight our wars with pink with glitter with ooze like
crying all that bile from your eyes the sticky
worms running playground drills up and down your throat
red rover, red rover, why don’t you come over?
red used to scare you always creeping in or up
more often out
that drip drip down your shaking knees that
seeping out the gashes in your stomach like a watermelon past its prime now just remember– don’t eat the seeds, you can’t afford for anything to grow inside you, and neither can the anything– that environment is uninhabitable
for living things

GUERRA

eres mi guerra
por lo visto siempre
me hace falta una:
fíjate, el fracaso
del momento.

mira, hija,
eso te digo
pa’ que lo sepas:
has perdido
bastante tiempo
con las tonterías estas
de amor y de amor
falso, y de no saber
la diferencia.

MISTS

you are
nobody
you are
nothing
you are the
absence
of bodies
and things

you are gone
from my skin
like a mist
or a phantom
you rose out
left some stains
nothing more

the clouds are red-black
and the wind
cools me down
i haven’t felt
the wind
in ages

CALVITO

había un calvito con miedo de todo
con ojitos que brillaban al sol
quería irse lejos, pero temía estar sin la madre,
quería ver el mundo, pero temía viajar.
quería cocinar, pero temía aprender cómo,
quería amar, pero temía su corazón.
quería ser más sabio, pero temía irse al cole,
quería salir fuera, pero incluso temía el sol.

con suerte un día el calvito
se dejó caer de la cuna
y pasito a pasito
aprendió a caminar —
luego se puso pelo y
como dicta la naturaleza
tras su milagro mas asombroso
se atrevió de ser hombre
y el calvito se creció.