the fountain of youth sprays,                                                                                             an orgasm                    
but is still no match for the passing of time.                                                                            wilting
no matter how many seeds are spread,                                                                                      flowered                 ogle
the earth will still die                                                                                                  rotation
                                                                                                                        an
again, back into the void. back into the black, the empty, the nothing, the meaningless the opposite of everything;       axis of feeble
something tells us that there is no limit to the mind                                                                     succumbs, 
something tells us that the mind is capable                                                                                        cums,
of anything;                                                                                                                            and
its possibilities are endless, the blind man can see                                                                                       throws me
if his minds eye is finely tuned;                                                                                                                   away
if his ear is capable of seeing sound, like my tongue can taste words                                                                               into
i can taste the sweetness of some things                                                                                                            rain
the bitterness of others                                                                                                                            cold
but all tastes are to my liking, a taste is just an electrical impulse                                                                              hate
and if you tweak your brain any stimulus can replace another.                                                                                    and
what is an orgasm?                                                                                                                            she
light.                                                                                                                                     cums     again,
if sex is darkness, the orgasm is the light at the end of everything, the                                                                        and   i
unattainable, darkness.                                                                                                                               am
i write with my eyes closed to simulate death; to stimulate depth and                                                                                absent;
prepare myself for falling.                                                                                                                        oblivious
i see all people as one                                
one is the least valuable nu-
mber.                                                                                                                                                ab-
but value is relative.                                                                                                                                 sent
one mans trash is just... trash.                                                     page twelve.                                                          a
                                                                                                                                                           w
                                                                                                                                                           a
                                                                                     Hanging over freshly cut grass and noisy corridors, there’s           y
                                                                                     Something about girls
                                                                                     Interfering with my self, and all that surrounds me;              d
 bathed in tequila and lime                                                          I am readily internally external.                              s    o
 the salty bitterness    of                                                                                                                          t    w
 e r    u          p                 t                 i              o   n          Introspective autopsy:                                           r    n
        is          sublime                                                          Faux Noir; pseudo-scientist street magician;                  t   e    
          i       am                                                                 You can call cacophony illusion;                               o   a
           without                                                                   A spade                                                             m
                                                                                     A shovel;                                                    drown.
                    love                                                             Nothing changes
                        you                                                          Until it has been changed;
                                                                                     A minor cosmetic aesthetic synthetic pathetic

                                                                                     Enhancement. Emphasize what? Stress what? ...something I can’t see?
                                                                                     A cover-up; you take it for beauty,
                                                                                     Though ugly it makes me.
                                                                                     I take for free—-
                                                                                     ...and you give willingly?

                                                                                 Right-hooks are felt the next day, when your ethanol exoskeleton evaporates
                            bitch                                                Ink seeps slow;
                                                                                 Thick;                                            words drip
                                                                                                                                             and drip
                                                                                     “Tick-tock” the clock says silently,                            and
                                                                                     While time ceases incessantly;                                     drip;
                                                                                     This moment like the fireworks’
                                                                                     Anti-climax.
                                                                                                                                                        drop.
she shone bright orange in the sun
she said kiss me
and i did

she ate light like a greedy black hole                                                                            
she kissed her
and i died





                                                                                                                                                         numb