Other Non-fiction

well now, let’s see,
if you live in “the land of the
free,”
you get to see people get blown
away at a higher frequency these days,
because of
“individuals”
who have snapped,

feel what s/he knows is
what is really happening,
uses the word “believe”
as if s/he needed it to
breathe,
throws out her/his labels
on others in a manner of
nonchalance, letting the

hard pressed to search for
certainty, hard pressed to
make some sense, hard
pressed to end all these
frustrations, hard pressed to
submit to something (if
only it will help you relax),

bored with the
relationship s/he’s in
but not wanting to leave
the positive aspects,
thinking s/he’s too old to
start again &
been there before anyway---
with a pattern s/he knows

I laboured through the day.

run thin, run thin

A woman threw away a future that was very bright.
She murdered to join a gang and that wasn't right.
Killing somebody is the prerequisite of joining that violent gang.

because the music industry is
dead as a fucking doornail,
they grip hold as long as possible
to whatever pop singer can pull
in the most idiots to sell whatever

tension that brings
the conflict, conflict
which brings the
fight, fight that brings
the pain, pain that
brings the blood,
blood that brings the
haze, haze that brings

must be nice to think
one has a place in the world
never to be shaken,
never to be questioned,
never to be seen differently
at any angle
(even in the deepest moments of
introspection)---

overheard someone quietly frightened
by the stupid fucking Mayan calendar
ending, someone sold the “apocalypse”
shit,
hook
line &
sinker,
who still eats it up, eats it up, eats it up,

found yourself
alone
&
no longer
scrutinized or
criticized or
made to feel
guilty or
made to stay
up late worrying
where the other
was or
made to worry
about a so-called

s/he hasn’t an aggressive bone
in her/his body, at least not one you
can see &
when you pass him/her on the street,
you’d thing s/he had fucking angel
wings on her/his back,

stumbled upon a rabid raccoon
(posted on youtube)
recorded by some family
huddled inside their kitchen
looking out the sliding glass door
on a sunny afternoon &

poem

the moment s/he lost his/her
faith, now tattooed on the
back of his/her hand in a
& burnt on the back
of his/her mind, stands
for him/her as the most
important moment of a

had a crush on good ol’
“jesus,” but being that he
was all made up, s/he had
to settle for the
“jackhammer jesus,”
a big strong dildo
invented to make one
cum in the name of the

first time that brought the
bliss,
must’ve been when with her/his
best friend, in some mall in the
middle of fucking
nowhere---
little things when s/he was young &

this buildup of stress
this place of unrest inside
this eagerness to end the
frustration
this place of darkness residing
within
this hatred of all around
this want to relieve the

thinking back to better days
when kind faces presented themselves,
when the youth that one emanated &
the accompanying energy
brought in smiles & positive vibes
from all corners of the earth,