Tagged: generation

Brain Beating

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brain cells drain like

blood trailing toe holes
composing the semi empty
to mostly empty receptacle
that is man

carving
a habit rippling
into eternity

they’re taking their scrapings
extracting teeth
and plucking the roots
like Sitar strings
they’re just trying to return
the electric touch
bless ‘em for it

Doc cuffs the bills quick
Tabs a pretty sack
Of greenery so I’m

paying my way
with teeth and finger nails
dirty deeds and coagulatin’ oil rags

week of the next
peeling for fix
in the lobby
the nose
drip and waiting for the withdrawal
to shock like a cattle prod.

I can feel the magnetic waves
in the atmosphere
the blue cancer
They got it,
Pulled the last stale tooth.

and the heart no longer beats
but shudders
to free form jazz.

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Rotten Old Bukowski (Explicit)

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Rotten old men

Standing like their

Rotten cocks

Erect

They watch the mothers

And children play.

Some watch the mothers

In skirts, tight, amorphous

Bending over

Their great asses

Blocking out the sky.

The daughters cowering behind

Oval shadow

Others watch the children

Thumbs perked up

Wriggling between two

Moist, pursued lips

Blowing their

Boo-boo’d thumbs.

Forgotten Youth

The expression is stern
As cross hairs float to the next spirit of God
A man of war
Finger clasped around the trigger
But in his mind
His chapped hands are smooth
Coiled around feminine face
Warm with life
But on steel
Burning stove tops
Metallic pools
Galvanizing the machine
Pushing the trigger
Like clock ticks
Deliberately
Consistently
Each second
He watches men fall
Like his children at the swing’s apex
Youthful face is cloudy, swollen
And tears race like rain
But these orphans
Torn like warped boards
Enclosing the crate
Of Pandora’s box
They aren’t puffy eyed
Aren’t lifted to their feet
By overly concerned mothers
They lie motionless
In the reddening mud

The Last Pump at the Gas Station

Pump me up full of adderall
Heroine, cocaine, tea, cigarettes
Ungodly amounts of caffeine
Until it’s all that I can do

Sit and push out shit
Shaking anxious wrecks
Blowing down walls

While I sit on this shitter
Still ready to die
Still typing away
Like if I stop
The trigger will
Pull me
And I’ll snap