Do you have a pen?

Should I get dressed now?
-What?
Do what you want to do.
I can't bear to look at you...
And give me back my drink!
I didn't spend money to get you drunk.

I'm taking naked pictures of you
on the sly, through the mirror;
No one's going to remember you...
No one's going to know you, anyway.

You've come and you've gone,
gone with the night,
gone with all its passion.
Others, too, with Passion,
they'll find you.

You have a look of childlike amusement.
Your eyes glisten,
but you're not smiling;
your teeth are clenched -
you're as amused as a crazed chimpanzee.
And those eyes, under glass,
pupils dialted 60 feet wide...
something sinister about that ape-like stare.

It used to be a good brain,
full of potential,
now just a sour mush,
on a good day,
still sputtering.
I don't dwell upon,
too often,
you can't sulk...
you can't sulk...
I don't dwell upon,
too often,
if it's impending doom,
How I can keep living
Doing what I'm doing.

nausea

It's screaming cold.
I'm sinking,
lower
and lower -
The glass reminds me of ice.
When I come to,
turn me over,
remind me of the trouble
I have caused.

With too many
you can feel the water
rising,
each time you take a sip.
You can't smoke -
can't digest it.
Each distraction's a sudden interest,
an unfamiliar friend -
I plead to her,
don't go away.

You give me strength.
You give me hope.
I keep going...
twirlin' you around my little finger.

You never let me hit bottom.
One day I'll die unknowing.

Love is Naught

My most wildest dreams
go away from me
in a slow and hot moment
it sinks in to me -
I am empty.
I have nothing to give.

And I've lost you,
but it's too soon to speak.
And these lines,
what good have they done
but to remind
in a violent snort
of vain and bitter envy?
And their rhymes,
impatient and unkind,
equally bitter and puny,
serve merely to remind me
Of those sins better left unseen.
They're yours no longer -
I've taken them,
in tones sarcastic and biting:
Your ghosts are now demons in my memory.

In the ecstasy of unfulfilled yearning *

We are animals.
We suck the blood
from our wounds.
clawing for more.

I don't love you.
I just want you.
In the basest corner,
salivating.
I want to see you
in the state you revert to

...
you're not as classy as your dresses
not as sophisticated as your politics

Raw, in your essence,
you have meat and you want it pounded!
screaming vulgarities
"... "
- and now you come to me.

If I don't dwell upon the abstractions,
I (guess) I can be with you...

I want to forever live
in the ecstasy
of unfulfilled yearning.
(I don't want to touch.)
In the basest corner,
salivating...

Relapse

(Bruce Lee was All Energy, taken from this planet...)

I am nothing.

My soul is white,
not even a color.

All those days boasted, counted
come undone in one irrational step.

Longer than the listless nights,
Longer than the afternoons,
humdrum, journeying into
night…
If I could've held on a little longer...

One more drink and I cross the line
one more line...
and there are faces
hidden in the trees.

pacific coast

From the faded ruins of a life
And long drives in the night,
A rabid dog that should be shot -
Refresh my mind...
I saw the moon but it ain't sad.
Its eyes are crazed
And the tidal waves...
I can't think,
There's a rapist on television:
A little mexican,
A girl with milky skin -
He says they made love.

My black tar friend

You were put there by the Devil,
even though you have a home,
and a sister, whom I know.
Just walking down the street,
lost
or are you planning?

Somebody still loves you.
(if not God, then your mother)
There's a deep sadness
in the sinister
behind those black eyes.

I don't know if I believe in
That Sort of Thing,
yet I can't stop; I want to -
No, I can't stop!
Just keep driving
and don't look back.

In the mirror I see you,
looking back,
still there,
waiting...

I don't want to be your black tar friend,
I don't like the way you smell.

In the backseat two knuckleheads sitting:
"We need a come-up."
Is this really real?
I am half-sick of these shadows!
I'm puking my guts out -
Where are the orgasms I've heard about?

Let me be, my eyes are already closed.
Though the vivid images keep rolling,
There's no need to sleep in this surreal dream…
Just let me be, I'm already sleeping.

Panhandlin everyday for gas,
I should have known
by the sinister of those eyes.
You clothes, culture - They don't fool me.
My companion and I,
we said: "Now there's a decent guy."

I don't want to be your black tar friend.
I don't like the way you smell.

While I went about my day

He knows more than me.
Suffers in silence.
I feed him strawberries.
He looks at me.
Those days are gone.

His brain's smaller than mine.
Foolish brute, you stumbled
upon words.
We understand any way that we can.
(but it's always there.)

I'll never hunt deer.
I'll never go gaming.

The eyes scream for life.
Then in weightless serenity,
fall empty.

Les Triplettes de Bellville

A dog is the closest thing to me.
When it whimpers in its sleep,
it's having dreams,
sitting atop a moving train.
It grunts while roughhousing,
chasing the hand that teases him.
I will get you;
I want more.
When I'm tired I'll bury
my empire under the dirt.
It'll starve with you
but does not know to share.
It'll follow you, in midnight footsteps:
Here we can rest.
But it does not understand.
What else is there?
(That you won't lay your bones to rest.)
And he'll be loyal
when he goes into search for you.
We call it love,
but you hold on to his plaything.
I am the dog that'll follow you around.
Always restless and searching,
then forgetting.

blowing in my face, blowing my smoke all over the place

The cool wind is cool,
it's been so for a while now.
I am nothing new.
The overcast skies,
and stupid palm trees
blowing in the breeze,
I don't know what I've against them:
leaves are or aren't
like me, I don't know.
This one, it ain't no good no more.
I want another one.