johnny git yer gun

my name is johnny git yer gun
git yer gun git yer gun
the drum rum-tumming every one

before we begin
this trial of the soul
i would like to remind
yer may release yerself
any time yer like
from the chains which bind
yer can never check out
yer can always leave
yer preconceived notions
at the door
on

alps loiterer

the plague time series

literal prose:
we know how this ends
death smiles

every time they visit
to date
they have been responsive
to our refusal
to participate

they usually comes
in biker black
faded leather
white pills
leather jeans

oral reptiles:
we know how this started
derivative sins

it always goes the same
we might think
the frequency might

days end

the plague time series

at days end
i sit on the roof
drinking dark milk
in sulphorous light
i am rewarded
for once again
surviving
goddamn fuckall
once again
conniving
goddamn fuckitalltohell

except that
it was never
that bad
never as bad as
that
as i want
ed
it to be
never as sad as
that
as i imagine d

the bee and the bat

we might think that as we evolve we become more aware of death of it’s inevitability we become less susceptible to the pain to the grief more accepting of it with the resurgent interest in eastern philosophy spiritual beliefs we might even expect that as we lessen our attachments we walk through life with a more evolved accepting state

kelp

we all saw them nobody can ever take that away from us we saw what we saw not remembering who saw first or who insisted we pull over get out not one of us will forget the first thrill the first image the awe the amazement

on the top of a bluff maybe a hundred feet above the water the

there's a man

there's a man
standing in front of me
holding a hand grenade
by the pin
in his mouth
i ask him,
what is the meaning of life?
he opens his mouth and
the grenade drops
to the ground
boom, we die

there's a man standing
in front of me
holding a hand grenade
by the pin
in his mouth
i

Key West Lyric

my head is smoldering
on the hipster beer porch
after this morning’s hot yoga class
in the garden of Gehenna
otherwise known as Key West
aka the laryngoscopical paradise

lacking a sufficient harborside view
I am content admiring
the evaporating condensation
from the glass on my table
well it’s not mine really
I’m just harboring it
in