Climb Abored

an anchor, 7 stories high & twice the tons

passengers without tickets shuffle up the stairs uninvited

i’ve got many guns. time to play Russian Roulette

oh you think i don’t? then what’s this?

.       .       .

everyone’s quiet now.

BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

shooting blanks. everyone’s delighted.

most of them clapping their hands, enjoying the spectacle, gay as can be

it’s all a circus

& then a man as tall as a hundred year old tree

walks up to me

& says: “perhaps you should relax. you gave me and some others quite a fright”

poor fools. they don’t even know the caliber of plight afoot

i toss the the useless weapons overboard. they clang against a wooden platform down below & are picked up by a group of rowdy teenagers, whom hoot & holler and run off into an alley with their new toys

we’re still at shore.

i sigh a heavy sigh. i wasn’t looking for death, just something more

for i know…

i find my cabin lodgings easily, at the very top of the ship

leaving the other passengers to do as they please

folding my hoodie into the drawer, kicking my shoes off under the bed

accepting the via blasé of what’s to come

for i know…

an anchor, 7 stories high & twice the tons

we aren’t going anywhere
not anymore

The Performer

Hi, nice to see you. I’m doing quite well thanks for asking. And yourself? Well that is simply fascinating, you should save that story for dinner parties! ‘Kay I’m gonna go now bye. Be sure to tip the bartender for me.

one facade to the next, not even thinking to rest

Thank you so much for calling this hotline of underpaid workers to help you with something or whatever, this is The Performer, how can I help you? Shove these papers up my ass, you say? Well, it wasn’t really in job description but hell, half the crap I do around here isn’t in there either, so why not? Clocking out, see ya tomorrow.

The cell phone lights up.

Before another fresh coat of paint is plastered by an invisible makeup team on to match the appropriate human emotion expected in whatever situation The Performer finds themselves in

there’s a notion of despair
about how many layers can be caked on
before the foundation implodes?

Yes, I love you too.

and what face would be underneath?

maybe something to closer thine higher self

Oh save me Buddha !
Jesus!
Krishna!
Leviathan!

*phone static*

a choir sings from above:

**”Come to me

Ravish me

I’ll liberate your mind”

Hmm…

Oh Great Whatever you are, how much more proof do I need to show before you believe I’m ready?

In this human kind, this condition, the mind can handle so many questions at once
to find a tailormade suit that fits only them

caught in the limbo

with a daunting glance, The Performer has no chance
to ponder about what could possibly free them from

Another coat, another color

The clock moves on, matter of fact

so on to the next Act





**reworded song lyrics from “Anna Stesia” by Prince

When The Music Stops

when the music stops…
last note from the last song fades into the background
the album’s spin is through…

that’s when you hear the sound
of an echo turning blue

then you feel the freeze
colder than the arctic

silence

a lead-footed frost nips at your ears
’cause there’s no sound
to muffle the splashing of your tears

Usurped

where is the cure?

that’ll make you see me as pure
that’ll take all my ugliness
& plunge it into space

maybe it’s because I’m the wrong race
maybe there’s too many imperfections on my face
perhaps my very being is a disgrace
forget about the past, I’m done with that place

but now I can’t seem to hit the right notes
what key am I even in?

it’s anyone’s guess
when did it all turn into such a huge stinking mess?

it became such a charade
a fantastical shit show parade
may as well make a toast with expired strawberry lemonade

where is the cure?

to stop the tears from my eyes
from falling upon what was once a daily beautiful surprise
but turned out to be merely a guise

tears, turning the Earth’s dirt into mud
caked under the crevices of your black Adidas
with a final, sickening thud

Smite The Bright

I don’t appreciate how They indoctrinate

Not trying to spark a debate

But resources are sewn slower than 

the Children of The Sun can participate 

Perhaps it’s time to repopulate 

Don’t interfere as the hired goons operate 



Oh funky congregation,

this is more than just a case of a smeared reputation

gurgled regurgitation of bullshit

that should have never left incubation….

uniform

chloroform
mushroom
cannibus
intoxicate
dominate
Now

Don’t Say I Didnt Warn Ya