
hooded glances sink all misty-eyed
working on dying, endless motion
junkies loitering in the vacant parking lot
desperately need a hit off something
skate rats at the park near the high school
girls headed in pairs of twos to the bathroom
some older couple reading a daily paper
really nothing new in the news
reading Kurt Vonnegut just to pass the time
doing anything just to pass the time
i think i’ll die here, if that’s alright with you
i’ll fade away, a veil of Elliot Smith & drugs
Broke boy with a bad attitude… crude & rude
Dogs barking see his ripped jeans
Smoke drifting out the little smoking area
Fog clouding over in plumes above the city
Little playboy bunny with the cute little bunny ears
He’ll never figure her out, what she’s ever up to
Just want to die snugly on a rainy day
When does all of the drudged monotony end
She broke my heart… her, her & her
They all did just by simply existing
This is the poem for hookers & moon gazers
Stupid worn out converse have holes in them
she’s in a mini skirt fetching a cab in the city
the cab stops in no time
maybe the cab driver likes her in the rear view
the mirror clearly showing up her skirt
stupid perverted little cab driver
stupid whimsical & the slightest bit slutty girl
I drank at terminal 3
I vaped in the airplane restroom
I died 34 times last week
I continue to die daily
didn’t feel good to sink to any level
better all up in my head
I wonder if the old homie got locked up
one of the old homie’s doing time right now
It’s only a matter of time
Change is always right around the corner
Pocket some loose change
No sign of light
Bunker & hunker down in the rain
First loss of light
Dusk to dawn… night night night
Sweet dreams sweetheart
I want to get high, but sadly can’t
Puts my relationships in jeopardy
Numb feelings trickle trickle trickle
Down the mountain the shredded line
Lost in thought, always lost in thought
I write using stone against rock
Little carvings etched into the rock face
You’re stupid… I’m stupid… we’re all so stupid
You could just give up the whole act
The old author sitting pounding away at the old typewriter
The cat lady chasing after all of her kittens
What drab lives we all lead
Drags off the spliff in back alleys
Leaving behind just poetic fragments of who we are
Who knew she could grow to be so cute
22… in college… studying literature
I’m over here philosophically looking into the existentialist point of it all
I’d rather read Bukowski talk about horse races
She was cute in her own way when she slammed the door in my face
Guess she was mad I had texted that other girl
Oh well, oh well
Used to listen to lots of music
Still listen to lots of music
I trust his & her taste
I have some CDs & a book collection
Played some Mazzy Star today & finished the novel Junky by William Burroughs
Kind of helps to read to slow the mind down & such
Currently reading Milan Kundera: The Unbearable Lightness of Being
as well as the poems of Walt Whitman, Allen Ginsberg, Sylvia Plath, Willa Cather & Leonard Cohen
Also picked up Bradbury’s ‘Fahrenheit 451’ & a Steinbeck novel, as well as Kaur’s ‘Milk & Honey’ & ‘Norwegian Wood’ by Murakami
So I got plenty to catch up on & read this month
Music is cool too
But really all I want to hear is the keys of the typewriter
Pew pew pew
The manuscript is all up in the air
Maybe the novel will never be finished
From this tweet to that tweet, it’s all so mindless
Try to delve into some idea on a deeper level
Nothing to dive into… the boy in his winter coat jumps into flurries of powdered snow… yippee
Hooray for the optimists
Thank God for the cynical people too
Good to be realistically positive
He says she talks too much
She says he doesn’t listen enough
The cruelly beautiful cycle of life unfolds
New day brings about fresh coffee
I sip & puff at my cigarette & read one of my twenty books
An album comes on the speaker
Some Zach Bryan ditty
Cool ex-navy country music
Onto Lou Reed & Mac Demarco
Chet Baker & Tom Petty & Nico
Pavement & Nick Drake
Slow Dive & The Cure
I’m about a slow life
Grinding away the minutes
Tuning in & tuning out from everything around me
Bro what the fuck are you talking about?
Honestly bro, I forgot… but hey, wanna piece a cigarette together?
Absolutely… but stop all of the small talk… I’m over talking about such bull shit antics… the weather this, this girl that… crank back up the music, smoke with me in our lil solitude, in some semblance of peace
Yea, yea, sounds good, sounds perfectly alright bruh
Anyways, hope you enjoyed this stupid little poem
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