It's alive

just

flightless birds

or

seeing eye dogs

our braile-tipped dew claws stroke

the venomous end we all seek

blind and joyous

like seeking a trinket you never wanted

but thought someone else might

enjoy

so you bought it anyway &

gave it to them

they never wanted your love

and your love wasn't worth taking

so you parked your car in the dark somewhere

and gave your love away unto yourself until you were a monster

a horrible, horrible monster.

the pipe.

I'm not afraid of death, but goddamn is dying/watching death gonna suck.

mugshot = highschool profile, whatever.

Deja Vu pinpoint..GOD I miss that stupid game.

She

You looked better in my ideal.

That damned scar on your neck would impress a flake but not so much a father.

Light goes one way and obscures shitty low-life shadows.

I'm bored.

I'll smoke a cigarette in the alley with you if you agree to dump me there forever.

Have fun.

Everything is gonna suck more later.

Leave me alone.

Dead metal, dancing to the tone of a note that forgot how to give a fuck.

Wearing a dead horse's leash.

There was that time I told you to

go to hell

& you said you'd already been there.

So I told you to go back.

You tore me in half, so don't ask for favors.

I'm a mama's boy because my mother loves me as much as I love her.

You hate me for being a mama's boy because your mother abandoned you.

you jealous zealot

Have fun in the clink every now and again.

I gave you a chance at the 'normal' life and you wiped your ass with it.

So I'll see you where you apparently have always been

and where you will appropriately return to,

you awful shit stain.

Another thing I can't take with me. A vision of beauty. A slab of steak.

You're polished glass.

Beauty.

Running your wet finger around the rim -

toying, playful.

Dammit, just shatter my heart/

my ears.

Get it over with.

I wanna swim with live buzz-saws.

I want to lick that AC outlet.

We need to taste True Voltage.

The pinballs are all pregnant

rolling thru a neon hell

that a bored loser created

and I'm dropping another quarter

hoping not to tilt too far.

Is she a juke or a game?

Who cares?

I'm still awake.

Certain Sandstorms

I have no idea what I'm doing here.

There's a load of beer

and I can hear hell knocking

on constant's wall.

Problem is, when I help her move the bed

my gut growls

and reminds me how long I've leased it

to client named Rot.

the pit

the bottom

the burn

the love

the longing

the regret

Oh, to chase a tail-

like a dog

woof, woof.

My emptiness is of global proportions

and your fulfillment is a digit

solitary, willful

your own heart in hand, bleeding

epic in standard.

Over my shoulder we go -

if you survive the dry air and potato sack

its

WELCOME TO THE OASIS

August 14

Im in love with her too

but that doesnt mean I like her

I wish this was a book of matches and not my ear bleeding.

but i still want control..

Leaves all dressed and morbant.

there are others that have gone before

born losers with scars on my legs

2 + 2 equals meat and everyone is arguing.

I wanna go to sleep with a boombox

so I do and wake up with lou reed's dreams in my waking memory.

I think I hit a nerve

and then everything flows straight thought the holland tunnel log jam

dammit I miss you.

She doesn't remember your name

and loss is named

sleep.

I hope that you're alive.

ghost shark vs. zombie nurse

Shit, its hard to knock out a man.

I've been waiting for that wave -

that one that knocks me on my ass.

Every night I buy a corporate whiskey whore to do the same -

drugs booze and asphalt equal food to me

match out the black to white

pray for sleep and

leave

the ghosts are circling

they're deadly with their

silent eyes.

Those damned eyes that speak more than mouths could ever wish to.

We're all live bait and it just gets later,

so I hope that twilight sets in

and the gaping sharks clean the air

so I can sleep

with peace inside me.

strong arm. leff

guns tattoos lsd truth whiskey life heartbreak sunshine heroin funerals girlfriends nightshade parks & ponds of a death life food with fun, etc.

hard boiled worthlessness - an egg, damned and deemed too fortunate for a human life... good god, do I need to go to bed...bad claymation re–enactments performed as drama..

some sad sack of shit praying us dry for that road side assistance.

Alone with guitar

I have this stupid heart

and it keeps pumping

panic like roaches' innards

soft goo

jello

nobody likes me as much as

I like playing the outsider

damned weirdo

damned to deaf

dead as life

certain as facts and

drunk as fuck.

help help

now we are dragging scared razor blades across the concrete

next to a beach one one cares about anymore.

so wield a surfboard against infinite dread and loneliness.

good luck

you stink and

you suck.

dumb damn dread

another greyscale night at the

toll booth

another night in the stink pit

it ends like new jersey

it ends quiet

like its supposed to.

Raft

Stay on the boat.

Get on up here goddamn it-

you aint leaving without me.

I've seen enough last beds damned by finality

and I refuse to let you be the next.

Get up on this goddamned raft

or I'll go before you do.

and if worse comes to worse

I will let myself go with you.

As raw as love

and doomed as fate-

as real as life.

A large standing rock in the water

a tombstone floating like a raft.

Happiness is a strange ration

but you're not gonna leave me today.

Its just not gonna happen.

not on my goddamned watch.

dead dog turncoat

fields of leaves

and rubies

some red ants crawling across

raw meat and valentines

bird calls

razor blades

an ending with nothing to take with you.

Wise up.

I want to be paranoid

I want to talk to myself

I want to be in the corner

I have to be weird

It's the only thing I know how to do.

Well, at least

by a margin.

Tone, timbre and some other bullshit.

Shit sounds like shit.

Plastic

Dry out your insides

and let the spider dance its

needle hands across the map.

Some scissors.

Honor the foot on the pedal.

the press

the dead feelings

the dumb crackheads upstairs

We live until we die.

Then you're just dead.

Misnomers by definition don't exist.
There are no mistakes.
Someone just lights a match and at least one witness survives.

Wetsuit.

Sound Map.

super highs - looking at white curtains (9/20k)
highs - looking at the glass (2.5/8k)
high mids - looking at the window (600hz/2k)
low mids - looking at the window frame (200/550hz)
lows - looking at the wall (80/190hz)
sub - looking at the floor (20/63hz)

Midland 07

Easter Eggs.

Red Ant/More Monotonous Garbage

Cop Car

they wanna pull a dragnet for some missing children

and this longing feels like an aggressive emptiness.

so I wait for them to show up in the back seat of a drown car

and when they come

I think,

'here comes the shit shovelers'.

They speak only in vowels

reaching around with their foul, water-logged flesh

and I wanna consult something that ain't there.


it's reaching up.


Failing.


Falling away towards a vast majority.

sidewinding zombie

Golden Steak

Arnie was a slime-bag I knew since '47.

Over some darts he told us that he had a daughter that liked to get raped.

We got him good and drunk, beat the shit outta him and drove his car back to his wife's place. The address was printed on the registration we located in the glove box.

I already felt like shit.

It was a white palace, glowing with anticipation. The walk up to the golden doors enticed two drunks to literally fall by the wayside, blacked out on the lawn. No one cared, noticed or pretended to give a shit as the golden door crept ever closer.

Sir Galahad and I pounded relentlessly on the front door and as we did so a voice encouraged us to come around back.

"Hey," the voice sounded, "we're grilling back here!"

There was no music back there & I didn't smell shit but male rage and the essence total defense.

As we backed away from the estate, leaving behind our fallen comrades, I could smell the sound of bagpipes & wooden bats itching to the sound of 'taps'.

It was the quietest ride home I've ever had in my life.

5.2.09

hawks on a wire.

Love you -

It all just sounds like wind chimes and zombie shark fights.

kung-fu punch claps constantly fighting against racist iconoclast heavenly hi-hats.

Escaping chainsaw teeth, relaying endless.

What I saw was weirder than the side of New York you'll never imagine.

I'm getting off a bus and

my face is a meteor.

Your end is death.

I'll see you before you get sick.

New School

It all happened so fast. Didn't even feel the asphalt. I sat up - my eyes felt like pinwheels. I remotely felt another blow ricochet hard off my left ear as I lost all hearing in it and buckled back down to the street.

In my right ear, which was dug into the pavement, I heard someone say, "Let's get the fuck out of here". Then a couple dozen sets of sneakers beat away into the distance. Slowly, I began to regain sight. The world was sitting sideways now and the mid-afternoon concrete was gradually cooking my right ear. It was now almost as hot as the left.

I groaned. Should have brought that starter pistol to school today. Suddenly, a car horn blared out really, really loud about eight feet behind me. It scared the shit out of me, almost literally. I had already wet my pants.

The sound of the idling engine was coming back to me quick and I heard a gruff voice from inside the car holler, "Hey! Get the fuck outta the road, kid!". It sounded like a cigar was yelling at me. I groaned again, coughed up some crap, gathered myself up and crawled out of the way.

As the car slowly passed by me, I caved in and fell back down into the gutter between two parked cars. I fell asleep a few times and no one offered to help me.

It was going to be a long week.

Spider.

Knock Knock.

Legs as Hanging Ducks.

After what had felt like hours, I decided that I couldn't sleep. I crept out of the room where my buddies and I had ended up crashing and walked out into the hallway. The guest room was out of the question seeing as the carpet had been torn up exposing those little nails that were invisible to the eye but not to the foot. Looking into Grandma's room, I baulked, figuring it was creepy to sleep in her bed on account of her being twelve years dead and all. The room looked exactly the same as it did when she died and the now old dusty pictures of me and my siblings sent a chill down my spine. The door creaked closed.

Outside, It was morning. I walked all the way down the hill into town hoping to wear myself down a little. After walking through the village center I decided that, yes, I did feel a little sleepy and directed myself towards the park. I found a bench with a table in the center of the park and put my head down over my crossed arms. Just as I started drifting off some political town rally startled me awake.

They were a bunch of pissed off squares ranting and raving over some shit that didn't apply or appeal to me. After a few moments more and more of them started showing up. Droves of them. A scruffy old bum sleeping on a bench a few feet away from me awoke, too. He wasn't happy. Yawning and shouting himself awake he started hurling his newspapers and other forms of crap at all the squares around him. The rally continued but a radius formed around the hobo, everyone keeping their distance from the poor, old crazy bat. As a salt shaker he hurled in my direction landed at my feet, I realized the ground was still wet from the rain the night before.

My new shoes were gonna get ruined. I got up mumbling under my breath that I couldn't get a damned break and started to walk back the way I came, but there were enormous mud puddles in the ground. I did that weird dance of someone who's both removing himself from a huge function he's not welcome at while also trying not to fuck up his new shoes. After about twenty yards out passed the sneers and shoves it was easier to walk. At this point, I was on the edge of the park and to my shoes' fortune, now walking on a gravel path. They looked marginally worse.

As the sun loomed ever higher overhead I began to get more and more sleepy. I decided that the walk back to grandma's was too far and my friends knew how to let themselves out when they woke up. The trolley to get over the other side of the hill could get me closer to my parent's house and was leaving shortly, so I decided to take that.

I was seated in the rear of the trolley and somehow had missed my stop. The next stop was just a little ways farther down the line so I just sat there. At the last stop, we all piled out. I walked down the steps and out onto the sidewalk along the path next to the supermarket with the red metal railings to each side.

Suddenly I was completely mortified, but the blows to my face and head made me violently kick at his crotch until after he let go. I ran through the crowd out towards my parent's and nobody stopped me.

I came up through the backyard after cutting through what felt like twenty years of high foliage. It was a long walk up the rolling grass and the afternoon sky had a purple tinge to it . Everything felt surreal. I was approaching the back of the house on the newly cropped grass and could see people moving around in the kitchen through its window. Lunch soon, I supposed. I wasn't really feeling sleepy anymore. I was passed the birdbath and the clothes line when someone waved to me from out the window and my neighbor roared up his driveway and into his garage ten feet to my left side.

As he did so a large black rodent creature sauntered out of the garage and into the sun. My neighbor's car sputtered dead and as it did so something really startled me because I couldn't identify what type of animal this thing coming towards me was. It was like a possum but slightly larger and all black. As it affixed its gaze on me and started to close in, I began to run towards the house but it was too late. I screamed as the beast ran up my leg and started to tear apart my hands and fingers. For a split second I resisted the strong instinct that suddenly took over as I ripped into the monster's body with my teeth.

As I bit into the animal's shoulders, I woke up in a panic, sweating, reminding myself why I always drank myself to sleep.

-Dry Sleep

The Piranha Kids of Sawdust City 2

Pink always said that he lived with his wino father but I never saw the guy, ever. His mom was both insane and dead. Everyone called him Pink because his mother dyed her hair pink about six years ago and everyone at school said she looked like a pink headed whore.

His father was either old, crazy or both. God, there were waist high piles of plastic bags everywhere. A dirty old rug covered most of the shitty floor. A rusty radiator and a stack of greasy old porno mags. Fast food wrappers cigarette butts half eaten food & live shells. Jars, jars and jars everywhere.

There were fist sized holes in the walls reeked of defeat. There was a TV in the corner.

Upstairs, I heard a shower come on. Then a body jumped in.

I sang a hammer-headed requiem to myself at the bottom of the stairs.

Living the dream.

If you're 'living the dream' and the dream is a nightmare, I guess that's not really a good thing. Is it?

And You Are Forgiven.

Ralph Kramden Tripping on Acid In Jail.

The only way this could be weirder would be if you were watching it tripping on acid in jail.

The Piranha Kids of Sawdust City

My room looked like shit. I sat up and rested my back up against the headboard. My walls looked bleak and dirty in the autumn morning sun. There were some stupid old posters from when I was ten or eleven.

I sat there in bed for a while, thinking. I caught myself having arguments with myself a few times.

Laced my boots and then got ready to leave the house. I stood by the door to my room and put my ear to it. The TV was on downstairs. I kept running until I couldn't hear her screaming after me.

I hadn't bothered sneaking out of the house for years because everything creaked. I was scared to sleep there.

Downtown looked like a ghost town that was inhabited by people who lived lives so tough the ghosts gave up trying to scare them out.

I shivered in the wind a little bit. There where a few cars parked around. Lots of grown-ups walking around in shitty old coats carrying sad beige and green plastic bags. I was talking to myself again.

I didn't know you could burn soup.

Fist Bowl.

Half clean.

Defeat for Breakfast.

OCKS,

Dividends.

Pummel.

I need a shrink.

Heartbreaker She-Demon.

Cold Water Moccasin

One Headed Dog.

Sidewinder.

ICE.

2008 Summer Heat - The Moistening (Drip, drip, drip)

www.lazytrigga.com/CMinus-TheMoistening.zip

"Let's all pray to Jesus that we're just plain doomed; because we're a helluva lot worse than that."