standing on the edge.

i saw the sky in an overly obstructive high rise and it resembled the southern hemisphere and i thought of warmer climes with cloudy skies; a place with sailors and a lack of ice. half of the time i'm gone. and i don't care where.

like a shepard hiding from the sheep. a shroud. we don't know how and we don't care

why

because. we're


unruly. unwanted.



the larger truth.


we'll call it even before half of our time is gone and we don't know where and we don't know where.

before i'm gone and

we'll come
undone

in this place

then we'll know we
are there
i am most definitely
going to
ruin your life



just like the sun kills the moon
every morning
every fight

it never ends


buried in sunshine and choking on happiness

pulp free, irony enriched

i am nauseous.


my spittle tastes like ashtray cuz i broke down and had a syrian
cigarette last night. up at 2 am, reading bukowski and drunk. i had
to get into the spirit, as mines been crushed as of late. i worry too
much. i feel like a kid. i made a sandwich with new ingredients. i
smoked some more and felt a comfort in coating my insides.

maybe they last longer than my mind now.

i wish there were dog races. note to self* move someplace you can go to
the track year round. look at women. try and pick a winner on a 60
to 1 split, and get robbed. i've never been to the track, but i know
dykes and divorcee's who have. one hates me, and the other only loves
me. in that order. in that style. ala mode' for the sub-sets.

later, i'll have to leave the house. and i will almost certainly
spend money. you cant get by on trade anymore.