mplr1

REALICIDE YOUTH RECORDS

James Swill’s

“A HOLLOW DESTINATION”

A hollow destination was created in a span of months in 2006. In that period I was encountering the heaviest heartache I’d ever personally experienced and was in a very large stage of transformation. The focus is death and rebirth; the questioning of what it means to say “I desire.” Written in a very long form stream of consciousness, every tiny specific font given section written on separate days throughout those months I can no longer exactly identify. Then I began rearranging their order, and performing a cut up on the work as a whole, letting the piece transform itself in a subconscious manner. I guess you could label this booklet as a “coming of age” piece, despite the cliché, it represents the transformation of a young naïve heartbroken hopeless kid, into something more powerful, more together, learning that one of the most effective methods of teaching is pain and discipline. Without pain there is no progress. I’d like to thank my very good friends Colin Murray, Jonathan Murray, Larva Dempsey, Robert Inhuman, Mavis Concave, Jonathan Williamson, and George Hoersting. These people were my support and seemingly the legs I stood on at times. Without them and their collective knowledge, wisdom, humor, compassion, sacrifice, and just whole heartedly listening to me pour my guts out (simultaneously recording it and letting me perform it with Realicide and Evolve), I wouldn’t be the person I am now.

There’s a nausea about the cobblestones and the almost artificial antiquity.

A woman is seen for a split second with an expression of fear

As if this tinker tank world wasn’t paper thin

As if her tiny gestures towards thin plastics weren’t futile

But the foundation for praise and worth.

My hollow individual, my gaping mass like stagnant water

All dead, except parasites and bacteria

Smaller than ever.

Conceited and wolf eyed pale women

Confident in every cock in their direction

Meat suckling barbaric new age wenches

Mingling like festering mold with scoundrels

And thieves of extreme drunken degrees.

Feasting on red gristle,

So stern, disciplined, leather smile, animatronics.

I’m not worthy of this engagement.

Lovers stripped are nothing but lustful skeletons, when separated,

So vulnerable to genital thought processes. But I will never put what sperm is loving away to waste on the makeup cakes or the leather hands of prostitutes. God damn them, the halves, my brain DAMN IT!

We’re racing each other

Each emitting sweat getting painfully sick

Like the lust for a million knives like glass like sheets

Slicing into your confused and fragile body. Here’s the spot where you wanna die….

And fade off, melodrama in the retrospect,

But psychic violence is untraceable to anyone but the receiver.

Let’s move on.

A basic lecture on the appropriation of the instance of now:

Endless like the wind throughout the alleys made of rubber

Bouncing up and down

Lucid.

Makes for rooms to commentate and criticize in silence

Shining through and into bleached blood

In the side highway motel

2^nd story, overlooking an algae filled pool

In November.

His hair rustles back in a gust of incoming autumn, stark and flat feeling. Such comfort in the imminent spiral.

He wears a camouflage jacket, too small on the wrists, stubbled, dismantled, he peers throughout the layers.

“It might as well be the moon. For bloodied Adams apples, I’ll shoot a bullet in its name, for a specie to die in shame, hollow be thy name”

“I haven’t ever really seen someone. But like a parallel, opposite’s attraction to the point of electric sparks and burning energy, we’re like wandering ghosts.”

Opposite Henry, there’s Maria. Still beings in raging cosmic wonder, raping apart their very mental fabrics to weave tunneling webs of past and future tense as one tapestry.

Never look back: Never

Even if all of this chaos was in your hands, no matter the demand,

Alone you must stand, turn around and turn into a pile of sand

To blow away, piece by tiny piece

Wet dreams

Scorpio

Sex like the masks of drama

Linkage of massive pain

Connection to nothing and no one

Reflections get uglier

Days getting longer

Swallowed alive by your own desire

In anxious fits, with cold sweat and sleep deprivation

Through this, a character is carved.

DISCIPLINE.

In my memory

In my conscious

Nothing will ever feel the same

You’ll never look at me like you used to

You just know my name

I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish

But you never get what you wish for, only what you know

I AM! I WILL! I AM! I SHALL HAVE!

POWER

Pushed through the tunnel

Chlorinated, pure, stainless holding stations.

Deliver the shock, cold,

Totally sedated, enough for despair, too cold for anger.

Every hour of every day

There is another

Being inside my own

Living externally

And sleeping internally

My internal

My eternal

My ethereal exception

Every fiber along your skin I see

Every single sliver of the suns reflection

In your eyeballs and on the moisture of your lips

Radiated light, darken the lashes of your eyes

And bring the pupils forward

Bring the cornea forward

Bring the iris toward mine

Throat chakras in line with mine

Hum the same meditation

There is pure worship there

In their company

Pure church

In the body of the soul I adore

So I adore towards the red RED sun

Collapsing into the tree line

I adore and ode actions that are never yours

My only physical serenity

In this madness and psychological painframe

In the brick hell, in the plastic hell, in the genital idol hell

You ARE THERE AND I LOVE

I love forwards towards

Into your body with no touching

With my eyes I am bellowing this for you

For something beyond you

Into your head, knowing all to well you hear me

Always

And eternally in this minute

In this damn day

You will see my dreams in yours

I will feel your dreams in my nightmares

And awake to nothing, nobody,

And it doesn’t matter

Because you simply exist

Because I can always close my eyes

And know you hear me

Loving forwards towards

A better rotation

So pure

Adoration and the intoxication of love.

Smear your body with blood and blue ink

Laying in the white lit grocery aisle

Asking how can it be so easy

So easy to be deceived, to escape,

How easy it is to see through and how easy it is to forget

I beg in these nights under sweat and restless beds

Palms wet clenched together

Breathes breathed into one another’s mouths.

unity to my body,

Shaped for each other like a clay mold

Stressed over

The great pull and push of birth and life

Of death and escape

Through our divine sex

We can ignite the animals we can experience

Full Technicolor blaring orgasm

This is my blood

I hear the sirens wail like the cry of some mythological beast

Over the hills

My ambience industrial district infinity

Through space helmets and bedroom windows

Over gray walls and green towers

I am here

Here I am

Forever taken, erased, reborn

And dead again.

So long as you see my script and here my voice,

The stars don’t shine in space.

Images of light dead in the void

New creations never to be seen for a million years

A million eyes

Over a billion keyboards

Symbols

Languages

Documents

Am I here?

Is this my home?

Here am I I am and here is that shadow

My shadow

The mirror

The photographs

But as a mass we vanish

Only as a bead in the filter

Like grains of salt

Pouring through

Glinting briefly

Momentarily

Then flat mountains stacked

And amoeba forms

To cobweb shining into invisibility.

Our tinker tank rocket ships hang crudely by a fishing line

Over the punctured paper solar system.

Where is that child I thought was real?

And as years passed

Nothing connected me more to trust

Nothing leading back to the naïve joy

Nothing left but a wonder if I made the most of that freedom.

Facts faced, accepted and rejected

Collecting dust as I lay

And look to the ceiling, my canvas

I would throw my memories and fantasies on.

The fear is back

The desolate earth

Your worthless corrosion

Your selfish parallel

Who am I but a monster to the morals?

I recall memories as a child

In our red brick house

With ivy covered walls

And towering staircases

With our tiny rooms

And giant illuminated windows

I would put my dirty palms and fingers against the kitchen glass

And push to see the outside

And pushing so hard that I remember that morning it broke under my weight

Recoiled in shock and looked at the glared at the oozing all to real mortality

And I bled so much and cried and cried

But

The movies showed me blood

But there was MY blood

Bloodier

Redder

Starker than ever

And I knew this kind was not a kind of violence

It was not criminal

Only deconstruction of the physical

All to overbearing

So complex for such a young mind

Yet so minimal

The systematic scheme of a frail and magnificent shell

Like those pains of glass

Break that barrier and it will cut.

Civil liberty structure

The bum never takes the food

Never asks for what he needs

Yet we give towards his death

And his circus pain

Endless

Forever unnoticed, by fearsome eyes

And wet palms.

The extraterrestrial is fact

The non existence-i.e.: standard beta is fact

Breaking my spine for you strangers

Involve me in more of your games, those social simplicities I can escape if I god damned wanted to

“but sweet god I beg I beg, mercy on this murderous royalist “

Jealousy takes my upper hand for my frayed half, violent criminal time bomb in tight faced anxiety to be put in uniform.

What do I do alone in the bedroom newspaper fire float the night sky?

Afraid of living outside pollutive lights

Never question the marks of a bite

Rabid

Sacrifice me

Which man was it?

Wants death in sleep because he’s so scared of it

Focus

There is no comfort to be had

Life in a flawed body

I want the arms clutched abdominal pain

All I want is your eyes to not peer through me

Your hands to not get cold and leathered in mine

Your lips to not go still and recoiled

These nights are ugly and starless

Compacted

And agonizing

While our bond is almost patronizing me

Resizing me

Furiously nauseated in sad confusion driving me

Into space

Religious relics and flannel ashes drift into the same focuses

But we must span outward

I am the ghost in the pages

Decaying in the shelves

Dusted over ideologies and

Hard cover shells

Like millions of insect’s legs tingling nerves electric tendrils with excitement furious in its nature so fundamental essential unnecessary and indivisible against this program stands the silhouette of a man and a child in the same fore his words remain in space

Cannot hold the bones inside

Cannot eat

Cannot dream

Do never do not do this and you die

As we dance the first dance and swallow our pride

For one other night of absolutes and atmosphere loss.

To run my hands across as if some protected work of art

Pure and un-rewritable

Her eyes so aware

And she thinks of me as beautiful only because she knows I see her as such

She knows when to hold her criticism because she is the other in every instance

Who else to look towards.

I need your hands and eyes

Your voice and your BEING

You call lust

but what makes it so dangerous is that you know it’s not just

So simple as an exchange

Ecstasy exists only within our two bodies

There is nothing else I want

Sickly. Trailing between the anarchists smoking camel cigarettes,

Or Ford’s American Revolution

Driven family owned operating on a puppet string.

Where are you now, tonight, forever? I blindly gave so much away, for what? progress

Hopeless neon desperate insurgency

Thundering worlds forward

The crushing bass like the trumpets of elephant stampedes

Bending metal heaving into the cement like liquid

And so many will scream out in ignorance

In fear and desperation so many dead from ignorance

Our country excels in comfort in distraction

Moving each passenger further from action

Can’t even cook let along grow

In death you’ll remorse that you missed your TV show

Silver game show glitter and laughter

The smell of bleach and ammonia, filling our lungs

As machine guns burst flatulent flat metal buzzing

Shredding bodies to tissue ribbons on national public broadcast

Children gather round and sleep with the sounds of immense violent death and raw diseased sexuality

Plastic microwaves radiate me a hot sickness

Blow godless nihilists with quickness conviction

Every paradigm no matter how free in is a condition

Each theory still a restriction

If its uncreative stagnant intelligence debates

Then your existence to survival is fiction

Faded exclamations, references of heavy narcotics

Static changeover

Where does character hide?

Buried in the times

With swing

And daffy Nazis,

Under all the acceptable commentary.

Freedom is stated

And the more mentioned

The more that is taken away.

Video black boxes

Inked over.

Does anyone see my face in this mass?

I’m the one screaming with eyes

I will never sleep

Naked to the cement

Brick phallus

Fuck the cunt of industrial collapse

Masturbate tragedy

49 dead in a plane crash

I had a dream about birth

Still formed, hollowed

Kept behind glass

Beauty is at my eyes reach only

Where are we headed?

Driven to destruction

Mechanized death

Red asphalt

Darkens every door, all mouths open

Rainbow plethora’s of lethal anti-anxiety barbiturates

What pixels, what light do you worship?

Alcohol migraines play the role

Of submission

A fool in the arms of the night

Wandering.

Is there any skull to love me?

Any bones to understand

Any muscles to reminisce

Any fingers to direct and map

Bodies aren’t bodies

Words aren’t words

Body is power.

Silver blood falls over

Her mouth filled with mercury teeth

Wood grains full of a thousand parasites

In the ventriloquist head

Disembodied

This world is taxidermy.

Glass eyes

Leveled landscapes, I'm standing in the basement

Buried in a heap of wet sopping garbage

Rotten vegetables and alcoholic slime

Like deaf ears remember the buzzing

Like distant radio frequencies piercing through brick wall

I will die in dream and life death outside

Massive sex discharge

Massive bone loss

Massive pain gain

Die in the moment for

Falling pieces of this earth into the deepest outer space

Leaving behind remnant dust, the atoms of our human race.

I love the idea of Armageddon

Massive death is progress

I love industrial wasteland

I love rusted shut hinges of corridors full of more rusted metal

I love the “smell of nothing and nobody there”

No time left to act in danger, reckless, and pre organized in a state of struggle and disregard. I wish this body could handle so much more. A young mind, but I have old eyes; to die alone is not worth the pain. Any outside power is short lived. It’s in me and I’m just trying to get it from you. Welcome to the sinking of the facial, dramatics are so natural to me. Selfish underserved anger and output, for the sake of a loveless brain, for the pity of a leaky genital, for the comfort of violent arms.

(GLO-WORM)

Blood brother, basement painter, candle wax and exacto blades

A pack of basics, broken locomotives, the sweat in your palms

On the soles of your grass stained feet

Wild picked dandelion bouquets and shoplifted art supplies

The sled ride into the maroon winter, the stolen getaway

Through Philadelphia on the beaches of Atlantic City to the destroyed photographic of you smelling flowers in D.C.

The wood smell of Levi’s cabin, and the long barren ride to your mother’s home,

The residual affects of your stepfathers, and the country dark you can’t get anywhere else.

Ever changing spectrum of hair colors, the widow song and many others,

How many poems for you are there flying as ashes in junkyards in the trunks of my old cars?

Huge smiling eyeballs, sneaking through your window,

Kidnapping you for weeks, menial jobs for meaningless money

Always just waiting for our next minutes

Pounding on scrap metals, and finding a world we never knew

Together growing old as I've become

Through the desolate America alone I’ll run

And these moments were my mold for the mind I have decided

The moment is abandon; I must now lie down beside it

The color shines through this jagged pile of broken glass and ash

Snapped locks and shallow snow

I cannot ask to gain an eternity in something that will inevitably die

External love is short lived

I need to live inside

To be alone and one day deserve

To feel the liberation of death

And come forwards through

My eyes bleak and penetrating

And the word “my” eliminated

Bond within earth and fellow creatures

Smash my paradigm.

Into the hours of autumn burning

Logs and paper ashes over the bitter airspace.

Lost here again in my own home,

Memorial Day 2006

Watching this yellow bellied horizon

My body flying no machinery nowhere

The zero mind, the state of delusion confirmation in reality and collapse

Back to the typing, days spent on roofs watching fireworks eating peanut butter

Everyone gotta dry masculinity expression worn

I’m there in the magnesium

My body is tired and muscle is being burned off

firing a handgun

I can lift its smooth weight and rattle back multiple bullets

“Like a dream gun”

Watching the seconds of life be torn away by my hands

Never again to be the same

I’m moving away from this city

I’m hollowed out to its cold face

With slate gray eyes peering through us, to never stand

Suburban memories

Racing living livid death cycle I know to well

It chokes me up to remember

I just wish it wasn’t there

That long strip of consumptive delirium

She and I were in

Let those pictures burn under the future

I have no photographs

Just let me drive away from my dead past

Far away where skeleton bonds fade into laughter

Escape the drone of lust and romantic anguish

Escape the mundane eyes and familiar judgments

Escape the drugs and the sloth trap

Under the moon soon I’ll be driving away.

I’ll keep this city laminated

Under our hands running the brail of our oncoming lives

We’ll pass in dream in slow animation

To see each others expressions, interpret them, and read into one another.

This beautiful mystery is all too frail

My hands too young and careless at this point.

I will not be waking in the arms of the other

I will be alone here

Forgotten I will rename and god speed

Heavens only a few bodies away

Hells’ just the same

And you’ll never know where you’re headed till the end

So easy to watch the strings be knit together

To be forever unraveling

Every word you’ve told me is fading

I’m a dusty young boy, with too many scars for his age

You can see the pieces in my face

When you speak, falling apart

I dismantle for you

I will not stay around in the wake of this

To die here

Pushed back outside

Everyone commuting in punishment

Every face looking long and bewildered

And every policeman’s face looking pursed and pinched

Disgusted by the superiority of every man

Over them, always look through them and over them

Their satisfaction is your prostration.

Sexuality burns through our clothes

Like a nuclear heat wave

The white flash of all knowledge

The white flash of god and death

Life and remembrance

Washed away by a physical violence so beyond blood

Electricity is always sizzling and cracking through our fingers, sending your cells recoiling into your center. The sun goes down again, no symphony takes it, and no engagement brings anymore finality. There in the wave of light her shadow towers the walls and climbs this cement travesty. Complete unity is inside you, god is nowhere near the sky, but within my skull, in my hands, our hands together, love is more religious than any ceremony. Always remembered, daily, painful and forever embodied in every soul. I think of all the gasoline I’ve bought, all the cigarettes, all the msg. Flood my body with toxic filth. Cleanse me of all these powers of death, slave gods, worship is green. Her mouth is my focus, all the moments I never listened now remembered, and pondered upon why I made those choices. God did damn it alright.

One mistake after another

These faces are falling apart

Noses bleed clods of scab and cocaine

The monster in me

Broken glass shatters under nonsense

Radicals in the yearning for life external

The internal combustion

Wander through another

Migraines stress the bone lining

Chronic sickness, and oversleep

Waking up to the sun setting makes me feel mission bound

As if there’s some purpose for me for the night

For those growing weary and hungry

I’ll pace the moonlit strip in your place.

I meditate in the nude

Body in manual default

My white torso sweating out bullets

Over my slowly exposing ribcage

Because it’s like I can’t get hungry

In the past few days I’ve eaten pita, salt, and marijuana

Nutrient less, thinning away, guts gurgling

Down over my stomach

Washing over me with pain and fatigue

My bones sinking through the mattress

Over my clutched fists and down my thighs

Into my musky red genitals

My mattress is under the window

Flat, and bound

Listening to jackhammers and ongoing traffic

The shades filtering a flood of yellow light

Shadows of monarch butterflies and wood bees

Pattering the screen

The soundscapes of the outside world orchestrating half dreams

So thirsty for cold water and adequate medicine

Desire becomes pain

When your most wonderful dreams become nightmares when you wake up

And all your success

Your attainment of the unattainable wash away

As consciousness refills you, and you eyes are aware

With you lids clenched shut

Trying so hard to go back into the dream

But you know it’s too late

And you’re not going to get anything you want

Laying there in bed.

As she sleeps

She sighs with every breath

her body in negative space

fluttering through one thousand dreams.

Whispering

The bitter autumn

Whispering

Exhaustion

I’ve dreamt her presence

Cased in glass

I’ve conjured a confusion of Midas.

She lays on her right side

As I type to her back

Watching her breath

Life passes through the light of the window shades

Life passes through the electric ohm

Life passes and life approaches

I want her to face me

And breath unconsciously

Into my own

The human warmth that cannot be simulated

And the touch of a needle

At the pinnacle of anxiety

I’ve become to susceptible

Tired

And rubber

I want too many things

If I could only focus my raging brain

I want

WANT IS NOT NEED

I need to reconstitute the basic principles of what makes my head matter. From birth, you are one of 6 billion masterpieces, one of 6 billion vacant lots to undergo installation. Programmed and educated into mercy. But what is mercy? Weakness. I will not lay here with a skull full of dreams and simply let them sink into a mattress, or into the ears of some careless pedestrian of a barbiturate culture. I’ve had a lot of nights to think about what I gotta do to be something other than just another face. Frantically catching your reflection, holding your hands over your eyes, I’M NOT WEARING A FUCKING MASK! This world like a bullet just racing at my face. I’m an identity so traceable, but inside, you feel nervous, because in my voice you can feel death, in my shadow you can feel power, in my flesh you can feel yourself eroding. Born with a barcode, erase your face, take away all the walls that build your mousetrap, do never do not do this and you die, to all the asphalt over the soil, to all the hearts in the bodies like a vessel set to boil, recoil, and cocoon, shred your body now, cough out all this shit before you drown, in a time of genital idolatry, I will not dress as one of a million clowns, take away what’s weak from yourself, look at yourself, feel yourself becoming one with your daydreams, one with all of your nightmares and ambitions, I will not be weakened, one true health, one true wealth, one true death and rebirth, one true self, remove this shell, remove this self made hell, only one solution to move forward, to get by, I gotta kill myself, kill yourself, kill yourself or die!

Tumbling mass intoxicated devotion, get drunk on the power of motion. Follow the hands of guidance, watch the publics shifting eye through the eyes of a cockroach in rapid silence, snipping in and out of metropolitan corridors , breaks in the lining of the city to the concrete core, fear thy green border, nobody to hurt you, no plagues or pox, ah yes they’d say but nobody to save your whimpering body dying on a rock. Jonah and the whale, my brain in this body, Jonah and the whale, my body in this brain, Jonah in the whale, this brain in taxidermy, jonahs in the whale, put me on the next train, west I see the crest on yellow moth beams blurring my self empower less mess address regress to stress and build the mold I am and shall golden pile of medical sex. Slide the panorama, romantic isolated drama, chasing is thrill, so conscious chemical composition holds my anger still, so dismal still, skull crash on the window sill daybreak the ville, a feeling unequal to masturbation nature of pills. Aerosol. My name is incomparable. Deadbeat dad vulture, self preservation death fear culture, happiness compounds control a short sight, held by Marshall law rights in chaos never give it up, keep 'em in yer brights. Earth get usurped, now the globe wants the industrial, imminent collapse, turf coal, blow smoldering hole, guts raining on your flagpole sodomite, fuck your own face with a Remington revolver in the Hollywood pale moonlight. Don’t give me this wave of silicon, I'm hungry, ivory pawn on the black white to never be wrong, sing the endless song, all along, drone on and on, the past is dead all I see is a blood lit western American horizon, I’m gone.

Smooth marble phallus, like an infinite pinnacle

Like a knife lacerating out of miles of buried relics,

Shot through the bones of old dusted sewage bleached bones of nomad vagrants,

Left drying in an empty tunnel far below.

As percussions races in escalation, slamming metal,

The pattering of millions leather soles and cigarette butts falling.

As locomotion orgasms into the musty smog filled air, I race forward from the bomb, toward Korea, on to mars; we pursue the universe like children.

Spike through shining stone, etched in shapes of bodies,

Tumbling pornographically, touching for something human,

Hungering for something human.

Disregard any natural urge, for there’s a medicine for it.

Cry out in a blood stained sheet, filling with, saturating with, a groan inhuman and barbaric.

You’ll smell death on the city, the animal stink among a microwaved sterile cloud of neon fog,

The sound of a barge, tubing into the night.

Lying to live, stealing and manipulating

To just fuck like a rabbit in a scorched alien bed with the smell of remorse and nonsense.

Smash a battle on your fevered blood filled alcohol face,

Red red cheeks and beady scared rodent eyeballs.

Terminally screaming into DEATH!!!

Lead belly formula, waters tapped with cloudy worms

Pupa cityscape

Plasma earth

Tonight is the night of my more longwinded fears

I’ve seen the films, grainy discolored movies

Extended faces of warsome torture

Thrown into a tangent of violent neon colors,

All psychological introvert representations

All expression and reality

I’ve seen my skies filled with troublesome mystery

Some resident down the street was raped

Some resident a thousand fold and now creeps

Along the roads which I am wandering

And the night tree line

Like some climax disregarded

Comes back at me

With grey man paranoia

With needle phobia

With cold stark unreadable eyes

Peering into my waking face

And I too could wear the mask of terror and anguish

Reduced to a child by mere cruel selection

By another alien process

Once again, a night of abominable adrenaline.

So short into time

Degeneration 'kunst' cry out

Rallied moral

Rallied composed hatred fueled by all the deadly sins.

And I cannot sleep here in my bed tonight,

The sky has taken it away.

Over head, sharp cubic decimal digress, perfect

Organic disruption of a pigeon flock

Tumbling together uniformed by nature

Among the uniform of mind.

Here I am at the market,

I feel so sickeningly joyous

Ever since the waking hour

Charged with the lust to breathe the autumn winds

And smile into the scowls of tomorrow’s living dead

It’s a small world played poorly on a clarinet

Hustling through, the smell of wood crates, cheap incense,

Bells ring and grafters coax us on

The wild raging Asian Saigon market

Filled with all of your cheap relics

Rotten ginger and the smell of squid

But so humble and wonderful, nothing is disheveled.

Into the mouse hole through again,

Smiling black men who I feel they know me

Some power to read my face right through

And we smile in the towers of radio receivers and stolen bikes

My arms full of oranges, and cabbage

This is what’s holy today on this breakthrough autumn morning.

Take me back old man

Take me back to the day when you lost it and your face was made of clay after some long exasperated dream built on such a mountain of give ups and schizophrenically deserved gratifying failures.

Up against the wall

Up against the body of some angry stranger

In the night of orgasmic exertion

Burn the body up

Channel the refuse out

God speech

Sexual nature

That’s nature

Only that dictator was long killed

We’re chemical suckers

Radiated smoking skeletal mercury frames in strontium DDT soup.

Into the paper sky

The last sunset before the dreaded night

The comic villain, the dramatic sloths

All faces turn to me tonight

For it feels as if its some final straw in the needles

I saw a hearse at the red light, with the crooked license plate

Is it an omen? It’s as if I smelled a hint of death

Not too many days ago

And here is one of my mantras…

Another regular manifest destiny, a vicious one at that.

Never has it appeared so bleak and beautiful in unison

For its just more leeway into space

Among the ever flowing cosmic particles of light and antimatter for which these eyes cannot process, and need be, for it’s only a body, it can only predict.

I hear hollow conversations

Violent love

Perverted sense of nonsense

I see snitchful, wolf lit eyes

And epic human potentials through mere glances

I can see these people inside

I feel my monotone

My repeat

And understand my inside

Just for a mere gut wrenching second

I feel life surge through my muscles

And deep over my mind

Like liquid velvet, filling a gigantic cavernous skull

Over the tissue which feels no pain

And cannot rebuild

Like a machine

The most essential is the most fragile.

So onward victory, which is not fear but anticipation

Not discipline, but the will for it

And never an ego only a loss of it

Satisfaction exists only as we call “animal”

For we will always feel there’s more to reap

More to gain

Less and less to feed the more and more are born hungry

You can’t see a virus, only its aftermath

Its progress and eventual death.

Sweet dreams and an invitation

Into me, here I am

Forever born in words to a new world of hungry eyes

And mothering minds.

No matter where I wander its jail time

A prisoner to the attack of abandonment

Chains drag deadweight on a half dead body

Limbering across from hollow destination to hollow destination

Jealousy seers through me, possessive by nature

Everyone watching me explode and rain debris, zoo animal

Circus clown, slave driven,

As everyone smiles because it’s such a similar circumstance

Everyone smiles in the face of my childish hatred

Words are tears which is blood like cum just spit named piss in the dirty dirty earth

As I watch them dance away from the sliver in the window shade

Encased in bricks, in skin, in my mind I am solitarily confined

All you keep thinking is to kill the freeman

Feed the monsters

I prefer

Number of being

As opposed to the rigid formula of the street

(You know it’s a bad place, when a pathetic relation can be made to commercial material, and it moves you, love and loss moves you in the moment, the most common anguish, and the basis of so much desperation, destruction, architecture, and progression.)

“I feel alive, now I can breathe again, I call your name my friend, I hold you close… fire in the storm, so run to me again” and again and again. “I feel you, I want you, I know your touch is all I need, I'm waiting, you’re shining”

Where is your home, what is your number, who is that, why did I come here, what else is out there, where should I go, “just accept this.”

I felt the last bomb in the air

Nuclear fallout

We live in the new clear world

Destined to bury in a matter of months

Under all of our old rusted junk

Dumpy garbage bag bodied

Veins shot up with pesticides

Embalmed in the plastic sheen of poison

Cannot die

Cannot dream

Sleeping silently in the blackest

Winter sweeps over, you reflect of your epic

And it’s human

Blatant and finalized

Freezing in the wind tunnels of downtown Cincinnati

With all the life sucked out between a 9 to 5

I’m a man, but I’m just pulp right now

Long drawl voice spitting slurred fictional epiphany

Under the feathered wave

Collapse

Black gum spots, high heels clicking on marble

Greasy little street hot dog stands steaming

Suited up

Clean apparel

Crisp

Fresh

Important

Decrepit eyes, sunken back,

Carved frowns like men of wood

Like moving animated cancer

I could never relate

Out of touch

With the world

While I'm standing in the center

Distort the English language

Why program stagnancy?

My fellow blood filled sack

I conjure is at least as fleshed

You understand me; we speak with the same tissue

Find it peculiar, but your mind fears change

As if danger awaits you, in progress

As if you set target to fail

Delusional medicated results

Of a post 9-11 paranoid trail

Christ in a neon cape, neon forgery, neon rape

Fluorescent brain death

Alcohol stressed brows

I can’t relate to the shadows I’m around

It’s like every person is never quite there

And if you believe in anything

You’ll simply be downsized, and down stared

TV gamble garbage glamorous gore gravy train inane down the drain swirling the same old shit and swill, botox lip black-eyed slutty soccer moms on mad pills, dwarf gas guzzler muffler trash pit animal muzzler, don’t speak back to alpha male bastard 23, the same old mold that the TV predicted for your dreams, a universal lifelong implanted in the deepest seem scheme, blood cream, organ mash, super highway roadside assisted body burn and slash, hospital dope fiend dickless sexless reckless nightmare days and sweeter less night dreams, poured and detoured to the ward, now your supposed cure for the violent world is ignored.

I want to end all fiction

Desires like an itching scratched into an oozing wound

This is not who I can die as

The worm for birds

Therapy lies only in escape

To break down the memory of the faces and names

To dissolve the hatred

To dilute the forced passion

Disintegrate the image of eyeballs and physical bonds

With my soul reflection of what they call god

In nature and suicide of this

Resides the only end to the routine nightmares of loss

But it’s already lost…

Why would the dream repeat an already set occurrence with a new painful formula of circumstances?

Because it is not yet dead

And I am the only to kill it.

See the smoke stacks and the setting suns as I do

Stop forcing yourself to forget it’s so easy to run away from everyone else’s hell

And so easy to become involved as well.

Where is the naïve childhood joy?

Before sex and drugs

Before duality, loyalty, dependence, and destruction.

Despair, to seek vengeance for your own misfortune upon the very head that conjures the works, your own flesh and chemical composition.

I can’t rely on emotion

I can’t rely on any other bodies

No matter the warmth

Those hands don’t love me or want anything inside

Just genitals, just compliment, just security blankets.

Go rot into some other dupe,

You’ll never sympathize or step out and see how cruel it is

Your actions, puppetting a heart about

With nostalgia and absolutely false promise

A sickness of weakness

Of lust and greed

Gluttony and parasiticism.

Life and the lust for it is the only vaccination to the virus of stability.

You’re not welcome in my dreams anymore.

Time for the reduction

Those who can abandon all their faith

Are the only ones able to escape.

I’m not gonna learn to die in this town,

Bloody water, matching eyeballs

Skull fragments

In the abandon fields of ghost land

Wires protruding from the ground

Stars on the highway, distant from the bigger scrapers

Unpolluted, galactic beauty forward

No mysticism to this

Only real life rejection, buried,

Put to rest with the ideals of growth.

Never going back to that old dead road

In the traveling sun remaining shadows

Lovers embrace in the most wonderful way

I wake up to perfection

Happiness bound only by my hands

And I am free

Free of the hell, the ghost, the monster, the nightmare, the anguish

That lingers with pure adolescent behavior

Pure faith in something external.

I am the only in this

I am the only one who can change this

I felt what I've been dreaming in my hands

And I'm going to hold it again

For I know it lies before me

Waiting just for me to take an advance

For what is without difficulty that has a true redemption

What’s really that easy and worth it as well?

Without pain there can be no progress

So into another struggle I will walk

No fear of a regret or a failure

For I am a weak man at this point

And through alienation, isolation, selfless thinking will take hold.

I will not lay down in the grand superhighway

Omnipresence locomotion

Christ plastics, guts dried with motor ashes

Christmas black soot

As my great friend who was here for me

In all of this childish mess, this coming to manhood,

This shedding of the spiteful eye,

This friend who taught me

That there’s really more than myself to gather from

That it’s possible for me to be compassionate

Possible for me to stand up and simply accomplish

To shake off the plaque of the modern worlds torrential poisoning

To come to peace and strive for serenity

To become myself, the self I’d always been dreaming

Hypothesizing, planning,

But never trying after preaching.

He says “don’t die in the world that they’ve handed you”

A new year dawning and its time to move on.

CONTACT SWILL: [email protected]

(CIDE index)