The Points are Growing rougher.

Without a freeze, there was no extermination.

The vermin run king.

Anatomical explorations.

I, with corkscrew intestines that
lead viciously to black-hole bowels,
would love to be able to shit and piss
like
a
free man.

When you have fucked so much of
your life away,
it's hard to be able to see the future
in a cloud.
A new Caesar will be crowned,
with toilet seat laurels.

What special level of HELL have we found?

Level 3
  

i'm so disappointed in my fellow man.

back to the florescent lights
that make your eyes feel like they have been rolled, like dice
across a dirty floor.  There will be no millionaires tonight
even if there were it'd all be gone tomorrow.

Back to the burnt smell of translucent souls melting into the dust the dust
with each footfall.  no more daydreams,
with splashes of joy; not tainted by desperation.
In the nights where I dream,
the spooks remind me of the world we just lost out on.

Level 6

the four horsemen walk into a bar+
today a ghostly hand grabbed my ass.
The people scream for their meal, mouths felled open
waiting for the mother bird to drop flesh
=they are so angry, because it is the company
for which they pay.

Here comes the mother's milk.

Here comes the mother's milk. 

Such splendor lost, in the fall
of our men.
The demolition of a house of cards
that owned no gratitude to blueprints.
I would no longer lounge within the vaulted halls (under ceilings)
a king of kings.
Now I lay long nights, eyes open inside a roach motel
in a ghetto,
not only the sounds outside my slotted window reminding me
of my weaknesses.

I knew now what it must have felt like,
when the angels were expelled from heaven,
and Adam and Eve evicted from paradise.

She got to stay, as mothers were often allowed trespass,
because without them there would be
no life to live.
The myth of creation could take many forms
all curled cleverly like a snake.
She had said that she only wished to be freed from his father,
even if it was the him she saw within his son.
While most would coo and caw,
You sat stonily like Pontius Pilate
as the orderly wiped away the blood and the sweat.
It is a wonder that there was not poison laced into
your breast milk.
It seems to have made me stronger,
mother's milk.

I only wish that I could sleep and dream,
but I only have nightmares here. 
As soon as it is time I will drag my bones
out into the wasteland,
and go about my work under the buzzing lights
serving those that are as heartbroken as me. 
In the diner, where I work inside the picture window,
the only devils that I meet are the ones that order coffee and pie.

What can we possibly do for him?

Today I could hear a man
screaming, even down the street,
before he got to the harsh lights
of the cafe.
'Help me, help me,' he sang.
His dirty hands clutched at people that left,
finally filled up,
and they looked at him with lazy white eyes
stolen from desert custards.

He came in and told me someone was after him,
they had shot at him,
'Bang bang!' he mimicked.
He smelled sharply drunk
and I told him he could not be inside,
because he was not wearing shoes.

He would not leave, and I went back to cleaning.
As long as he was not making
a scene he could stay.
The cops came, and parked in the street blocking
all traffic.  He walked out to them with
hands up.
"Someone is out to get me."
They took him away drunk, drug packet
wrestled from his pocket now hiding inside
the trunk. 
"Someone is out to get me."

Later I carefully peeled a banana
and left it sitting on a plate,
as an offering to them.
I could see his demons bouncing off the walls.
Later on, before close I found the bags of cocaine
he'd left, by the restroom
down the hall.  "Someone is out to get me."

In
the beginning.

In the beginning,

I sat at an opulent table,
and gazed out a panoramic window onto the world along side my elders,
titans of virtue.
My mother's dead weight not oppressing her chair,
out whoring in the city.
Father away overseeing his own chaotic kingdom

As a boy
trying to be a man
I sat in my father's chair, and was cast out of paradise.
The branches of the family tree
bidding me adieu.

A cold day in 1989
my father sold his wood chipper for drug money.
The damage had already been done.
Down treacherous dynasties,
Icarus then falls to the Earth.

I was 7 when I first saw them,
They were massive
Shadow monsters,
Arm's like apes,
trespassing on the sanctity
of the day.
With no purpose
except to blight
my mind.
Sometimes they gave me comfort.
Other times, 
I had a hard time,
not screaming.

Welcome to the neighborhood. Welcome to the five points.

Distress Born.

A man can be born again,
like Lazarus, with only the scars of death
upon him.
The first time was rough as brambles
on the head of Christ.
The second can be true.

The third coming of the third mind.

History can be made,
changed.
Time is imperfect.
The only sounds you hear,
might be the ones
that lead you home.
singSingSING

Cut off the hand that offends.