tropic of cancers

These are thoughts that popped into my head throughout the day of sunday.

I really don't let strokish boys from home bother me that much. If anything they provide endless comedy from me. I know that all these jockish winners amount to nothing more then washed up, overweight barfly hollow versions of their former self's. Run up that tab boys, cheers to you!

My equivalent to being sea sick, or just having that dreadful feeling of melancholy and depression sinking is being on the highway for too long. Im sure sailors used to become depressed and tired of being at sea, away from loved ones, with nothing but miles of blue surrounding them.

I get that feeling to when I drive long periods of time. The drive to st. louis or florida are prime examples.

right now i have a thorn in my side, nagging me and constantly souring my mood.

how much would your life had to have sucked to be reincarnated as a cow? just sitting all day, eating grass until your killed to clog some fat kids arteries.

Ballsacks and weeners.

i am slowly slipping into a state of complacency, and im dreading it. i need to break these chains of acceptance, and strive for better.

complacency sucks dick.

hant-cuffd

There are more potholes
in this town

then happy people




So, it's like, let's broadcast every facet of our personal lives, everyday, let's bombard each other with all the details, let's leave nothing out, no stones unturned. everyone should care about every thing that is bothering me, everyone should know what makes me tick, everyone should know what color underwear im wearing, and what my insides look like.

Or, we can wake up every day, and do the same things that bring us such troubles and anger, and issues, and yet never question the repetitive nature of our lives, and we can just let everything engulf us, and beat us down, and ruin us.

Or you know, we could appreciate the fact that we DO wake up every day, and that we have the capacity to be able to find something wrong with everything, and then embrace the notion that we have the power to change our circumstances.

We could do that you know, or we could just stay unhappy and complain some more.

My grandma got Paris Hilton perfume for Jesus Cristos' birthday.


The weird thing is, it actually smells good.

I thought it'd smell like sweat, booze, cheap sex, and cigs, but in actuality it smells good.

damn you paris hilton, damn you!

what we dont know will hurt us.

condensation.

i clung tightly to the aqua tent. It provdided the only protection from the shitfuck combo of sleet beating mercilessly above our heads.

if he hadn't of taken that wrong turn at the light and then almost hit the old man, we wouldn't be here... " were her thoughts.

the lights of fires blazed in the backdrop of the night covered landscape. it was almost surreal, and neither of them had taken te LSD theyhad brought along yet.

mountains. mountains. mountains. more mountains. lake. mountains

how they ended up in some ridiculous, townhouse field on the edge of the forest, smoking meth with two teenagers wearing shitty band t shirts and talking as if they had transcended highness and were on the edge of heaven looking down and laughing at the entire world for not being in on it.

fuck that kid, his shirt sucked.

so did his house, and his meth. but there they sat, in the van, actually since they were idiots, on top of the van as some sort of weird sleet/hellfire combo rained down. aqua tent provided the only protection, and that in itself was laughable.

i was leaving him if we dont move to montana in the fall she thought..


to be continued

chapstik

Men

The night will go as follows...
fuck starry skies
fuck girls
fuck cops
fuckwet
fuck fall
fuck dark
fuck streets
fuck. fuck.

Bar Fight

FUCK THAT GUY
I hate him. Ill make fun of him all night, and shit, make him think im gonna kick his ass
"oh yeah?"

AND THEN HE'LL BE RIGHT, ILL WHOOP HIS FUCKING ASS

Manifest Ecstasy
I will never ask a question of myself I felt had no answer
shit.
answer,
shit.

my beer stained notebook.

ahh! adulthood.


Neustuff



Fear, Good God, Honest fear.


Hearing the city creak along at night,

well jesus, it's funny isn't it?

take a second to collect,

you walking in after a night of debauchery

jesus those 14 shots seemed so long ago.

did i really grope that?

pause, halt your smiles acension.

hear hear. the city, moaning. bleeding.

not sleeping.

the sirens in the distance

piercing the cool night sky.

home, and young.

home, and young.


To Do The Same Would be Doom

It's the same.

when im in my car. traffic.

same.

oh god, that feeling, of just compelte panic.

fear, anger, paranoia.

why am i wasting my life away?

shouldnt i, no i should i should
be doing

SOMETHING.


IWYTTIMUSOSOLZ

IN MY day, snow was snow

and when winter came, there wasn't guessing about if and when

it was when and when

mountains high, siberia in my backyard

slipping on ice, hating the cold.

god damned backstabbing bastard.


LOVES

when there's no way

to hide the desire

the one that burns, compels

fuels?

the one ,that makes you lightheaded

and just overwhelmed with giddiness

and delight upon one persons face

when you view them. when you view them

you melt. you love. you swell.

think of me,

sitting in front of this machine, with no deadline

and a flask almost certainley finished

now say, what do YOU think i wrote about
ps. john steinback,


A Letter To Ghosts.


Dear John,

Hanoi is great it is. Nights are awesome, lots of stars. sunrise, nice. sunset, perfect. people nice here, very accepting. they keep asking about you. i want to see you. as well.
plese respond, living is nice, but getting tough. fought 2 vagrants this morning. stabbed one. crazy. but, to get to the point, i need the cash. you owe me 56 bucks.

thanks

ps. young dreams, dont last forever. nothing does.


MOON\\

I shook the moon with my hand

and watched the majestic glitter

the reflection upon ocean current sky

i made it shimmer.
the night stayed true,.

revews

and it's weird.

all the leaves gone.

letting us see through the park, the landscape.

like a missle came, and ripped apart it's innocence.

we take what we can get.

who's to complain?

tonight i sleep above the creek.

i just want to forget.

convince myself it's really.

over.

skanks.

we're watching the leaves.

we're watching the trees.

we're watching the sky above, a river through the tree tops.

we're watching the drunk stumble in the city.

we're watching him.

we're watching the yards.

we're watching the clouds.

we're watching each other move away.

We're watching windows.

we're waiting.

Azure

I held in my excitement.

I sat and waited.

I no longer feel the need

if you have a need to, then you're missing the point.

it's gotta come naturally. it does

it still does.

Madrid, 1936

the bar was empty.

i didnt need company.

the smell is what i miss the most.

i welcome home with open arms.

for bleeding skies, and the sorrow of every cloud.

it bled on the alter, and i learned to forget.

the smell of fire, the rustle. the dark.

i missed it.

i welcome home now.

with open arms.

sleeping with both eyes open.

comfortable`

an ode to eve

every woman is built on a foundation of, pretty much suck.

you all do. you try to build a facade, a aura of right... the men you choose, the lives you lead, your daily actions.

all in an attempt by you, to do what's right for you. but upon review and analysis from outside sources, it sucks.

materialism. everyone woman, shallow.

and you are all so brain dead and mundane in your lives, it's downright sickening... you all settle for mediocrity labeled "ideal". wise up, raise up.

don't settle for trash. you are all worth better, all deserve it. even those who are cruel and whom karma would choose to be fed to sharks.

you deserve better.

don't settle for the asshole who calls you a dumb bitch, an asshole who is burdened by talking to you. assholes who lie cheat and treat you like a chore. assholes who don't appreciate, assholes who yell, scream, and fly off the handle over simple things. assholes who don't give you the time of day.

why lead that life? why chase?

is it because he's cute? because he looks good on your arm?

life isn't splendid when that's the case. any lifestyle characterized by that is ridiculous.

men aren't even worthy of you, so why lower yourself into mind numbing patheticness chasing something that will never afford you the same dignity and respect you deserve?

in a way women, you are my mortal enemy, and the most beautiful thing to grace my presence.

no excuse me, im going to turn homosexual and lock my self away due to embarassment, frustration and apathy.

i give up.

a collection of sexin' 1(one)

you'll never make it.

there's a song i think of when im anywhere

cold alone, fucked in the middle of chicago.

or cozy and warm in my bed.

it was a welcome feeling.

even when alleys threatened to harm me.

i didnt care.

winter was a son of a bitch.



Midtown

uptown was the makings of wealth

banks, apartments, sky scrapers, newspaper stands.

so i didnt visit much.

i was low-life, downtown type guy

never really acheived much

lackluster life style

the only thing involving me being a straight shooter

or having an aim that was true was

when id piss into stinkin gutters.

i got a postcard from Italy,

or shit, maybe Ibiza.

saving it.

saving it.

if i drink enough gin, it's the next best thing.


LaSalle.

i thought i was all used up.

i wasntso fuck.

the vcr is broken
i got a videotape
it's got memories, lots of em.

graduations, weddings, family reunions, baby video.
gone, if this fucking thing wouldnt work

tracking.

goddamn tracking.

an action packed duel with my vcr is what i enviosned on this summer afternoon.

Postcards.

Yes, I received your postcard.
No, it's not fine with me. (your decision with me)

but you do what you want, and as you please.
so who am i to interfer?

FINALE.

I watch conciensce and loyalty slip out of you.

like a gasp for air on the coldest winter day.

Cold and Early nights sometimes make it worthwhile

did you seriously just do that?

yes, not that you care.

JACKNIFE.

55.

like a dagger.

the entire state of central illinois.

stabbed.

bleeding, bled on the dagger, all the way until we found our way home.

three bottles, and two albums later.

we were back from where we started.

we where nowhere and it was good.

we needed to be somewhere, but were too late, we were sure.

but no one really cared any more.

no one really cared at all.

and driving home at 3 am, seemed to be

perfect.

"Agony, Always Agony"

if you want to make you'r life worthwhile and meaningful, read Bukowski.

whores, part one.

sometimes, when i read the bulletins of my peers, i feel like god must of before the destruction of sodom and gomorrah.

doctor, doctor.

you don't bathe tonight.
in the gulfs.
frost, but quiet confidence.

the girl over atop the cliff
selling faith for nothing and nothing less

abundance of overconfidence
and the sun will see you through.
once you thought you were safe
the moonlight.

and all the air is cool, and the world
is sleeping, calm, tranquil.

conscience will beg at your door.
and i hope your heart swells.

ill send Jorge over right away.

Rivlet no.3

id be better suited to drowning in the deepest ocean
or
pounding my head with stones.
then to stay here.
daily.

rivulet no.1

your waves of lament
wash over me
lament

i can pray to the brightest stars
that my prayers might be answered
the ones who perch high above us all
and still like the moon, i will stay stuck

stuck, stucked.
the moon will bob and
float
in its lethargic mood in the ocean
sleep.

night sky (so oceanic!)
so fair (night sky)

return to me with your song nightingale
let me know im still breathing

return to me with your song nightingale.

A Ocean (or SEA, HORROR)

AT HOME:

I saw the cripple and her companion. The look of delight as they called each other, and the process of helping the cripple into her clothes and onto her wheelchair, both excited to meet the cold!

Grocer:

I wonder if the fat woman cries herself to sleep, or does she know?
does she-
-look in the mirror
recount youth
-does youth make her feel pretty again?
-look in the mirror and see someone she doesnt want to be
does she hate going in public, when she looks in the mirror?
does she cry when she think of what her kids might think of her?

lots:

sean rucker

sean rucker
'
an epihpany in my prose!

im too disconnected from myself, my feelings.

disenchanted, denial, but i never acknowledge direct reasons.

so instead i write prose using lots of metaphors and vague imagery.

Imagine! me saying rainy days make me sad instead of

"i saw the sky brgin to tremble, a million clouds examples of it's brute strength. then it started to overflow, and as did my heart, my eyes began to bleed".

pigeon fuckers.




THIS FOLLOWING IS A SUITE. A SUITE OF POEMS I WROTE IN THE FORST. K.

A Day In Woods:
Leaves.

Mf,1014

There were a million of you shark suckers on the blanket, the carpet of the forst.
As my brain mushroomclouded against the windshield, i noticed my soul still lingering
and the tiny man inside my gums played accordion till nightfall.


TREE

Tree. think about it. think about the universe, the meaning of life, what is reality, creation, life after death, the vastness of our galaxy, all the achievments, the uniqueness of every object when compared to one another which ultimatley leads to thinking about existence and life as a whole and then think.

a fucking tree.


Voyuers

i felt the two men at the edge of the sand were waiting for me to jump into the sea of leaves so they could run in and erase me with thier hands, amongst the silence of the trees.

SIDENOTES.

It's not my fault my brain works at a higher level therfore allowing me to function as a genius.

VOYUERS.2

does the man think im a student now, writing in my notepad, therfore now wanting to kill me more?
damn you, good times video.

MUSK.

the entire east side smells like death and looms like one entrenched in history, looking more and more however like a wasteland.

Snlght

squirrrellssss keep running they blend in amongst the leaves look like a combo of rat and shark.


THE

the hills roll with history,
the roar of the highway makes me imagine the roar of a large lake instead
young couples playing and tranquilty abound.

Fearsuites

The mouth of the beast was open ahead of me, displaying a calm, welcoming invitation to venture in, but i was scared and too reluctant to exit my vehicles of safety.

beige

what if the guy in the truck was cleaning out his sons truck because the night before he was brutally murdered?

tree waterfalls are great.
i realized im writing backwards so the transferring process might be difficult later. damn.

the man over there last purchased a hooker on his sons 8th birthday.
a weeka go.

my hair is growing so fast and curling even more, im afraid i got bit by a werewolf.

im convinced there is a forecutter, a scalper waiting to devour me in the woods.

the last time a woman touched my testicles, i was beggining life anew in a scenic town, perhaps in new zealand, or australia, or hell maybe even california.

ENDconclusion

I deal with alot of of selfish inconsiderate people and since my self worth is cracked i tolerate it.

NOT ANY LONGER.
HAIR=SAMPSON BITCHES.

Firebombs, Playgrounds on.

256 Bones

I never want to be the grizzled old man.
hands worn, heart cold.
putting in work to some selfish bastard
daily punching a clock, signing my death certificate
O-N-E letter at a
time
Living my life (or am i really living) waiting for things
that will never come.

if it does, will i be too frail to have happines encompass my body and fill my heart like a priceless vase?
it's yours to keep, but i cling to nothing.

Ethertrips

My heart might swell like an ocean
my anger might consume me whole
but my jaw keeps me connected to life.

STeals

Everyone else is stoking thier fire
villages, braggards.
i watch from afar
retreating, repeating.

dumb

so it was a nice and shiny day, prolllllly about noon when my world was changed.

pack yer bags, we're movin to montana.

what? why?

(i had just come from new york, i seen the five boroughs, i wanted to visit queens again.)

no. im not doin it.

you dont got a choice

kill that nonsense. give me your keys.

no.

im not fighting with you, this isnt a struggle.

abuse dictates no choice?

and i hated it. i didnt want to leave my apartment. the nooks and crannies and oddities ive come to appreciate.

ying, the newspaper salesmen...Walter the alcoholic carpenter who wasnt home much, and when he was he was LO UD.
patrick, the boy who worked at the grocerer and just got out of college.

im not moving.

but shit, we did.

or so i thought.

And Now The Results of My Study Concerning The Worst Sounding Word in The World.

abortion.

monkeyshiners

september 26th is set yourself on fire day.

as she stalked me from the otherside of the courtyard, with her prehistoric birdlike gait, i couldnt help but look away.