When I go to the beach
The air opens up more than my nasal cavities
My insecurities come ajar

Hairy back, coupled with acne
On my chest and shoulders
Like organic epaulets
The sheer horror of possibly being ripped to shreds
By a Great White
Or discombobulation via wave
Cold and wet, and canonically screaming for my life
That is not how I wish to die
Yet, I brave it,
Because, it is these possibilities that generate me
Luke-warm comfort
The thought of being alive, and
As a bonus, being entitled to consciousness
Throughout the entire affair
Of death, capitulating
On the inherent throes of chemical
Sirens, whose beautiful verses could be heard and felt,
Throughout the collective bodice
At the leisure of my failing organs

And, if I could breast-feed
My self-esteem, I would
But, I don’t have breasts and
My self-esteem isn’t some
Whining infant
Bitching for a tit
It was only a figure of speech
Nothing else

I really hate that words can be misinterpreted
Someone could catch it and resound only at
The slimy, cold, residual colostomy bag
That takes no thinking to acknowledge

Terms, more fluid, potent, and with zine
Than they were ever meant to be
Words like batarang or sousaphone
Things whose purpose could never outshine
Their monikers
Dialogue can rape your ears
And sunlight can fondle your skin
Wind can push you
While thunderstorms can constipate an evening

These things can be wasted
On cohorts or paterfamilias
People whose idea of beauty stems no further
Than their own Id
And you can’t do anything about it
A moon of insipidly, common taste
Ignorant of its own tidal say-so
Is still a humongous object
That you can only hope will one day
Crash into you to see at least a smidgen of change

I can attest that it is frivolous
But at the same time, you need those words
Because, there are things that can only be said that way
And it doesn’t matter if some moron
Takes it in a bad way or turns it into emulsion
Not fit enough to wash down the most sterile urine

Language is amazing
Billions of years
Gone into our vocal cords
And the environment suitable enough to grow
And have situations
That would be worth describing and
Talking about?
From crying in pain
To calling someone a hypocrite
The odds of it all coming into place as it did, why
I can understand why some of those evangelicals
Still believe in a
Creator

A concave gap that
Gives us license to tell others how we feel
Gone are the days of the
Vestigial gutted-tongue and lost moments
The selfish internal monologue
No longer holds sway over our voice

Our passions,
Comfortable remoras happy to be
Under the belly of the sharks
Called words


Symbols and speech patterns
A cosmic dissonance, crammed into the primordial
Bastard child of nothingness, sitting alone at the bar of forever
Finally, saying, “**** this!
For too long, there has been no noise. For too long their has
Been
No way to say something.”

What if there had been some form of writing
At the beginning of the universe?
Wouldn’t it have been fantastic
To have gotten that down
Instead of abandoning it to time and the wanton imagination
That is still only a prejudicial interpretation of stimuli.
Shoveled out of the compost heap of the author’s own permissions?
Since then, it has become the fodder for licentious bores and
Pot-smoking professors
If someone re-wrote Sirens of Titan
Or blotted out all the xenophobia and fear of H.P. Lovecraft’s letters
Surely, there’d be an outrage
I yearn for the original metaphor
The indefinable

And, of course, I’m a little biased
I favor the language of people
Bees can communicate through dance,
Humans can too
And a deer can piss a conversation that could be
Heard, miles away
I beseech the species what
Spawned my mouth
With a plain vibration

Am I wrong? Selfish? Obtuse?
Who cares?
Actually, I’m quite disturbed by the
Sheer number of possible nomenclatures
Man can utter
Be it alone or at a silly dance
With his *** on the floor


The cynics, philistines, demagogues, and
Just plain awful folk will say,
“Well, this is just pretentious!”
“You throw too many words, and exact nothing!”
I decry these word Nazis
Whose niggardly ways
Engender a rage so filthy
That I begin foaming at the mouth
I’m merely searching for the perfect sentence
Capitalizing on the honey-combed inertia
That is necessary to make my life whole

If I seem disgruntled, then, you would be right, and
I most certainly will not apologize
Anger, to me, is the single greatest human
Emotion

And, many would disagree
How could something so self-destructive
Primitive, yet incandescent in all of us
Be great?

I think, because, it helps people remember that
They’re still very much prey to
Generality and instinct
Nature, taking them down a notch

Forgetfulness and
Piety
Two things that will never go out of style
So long as a single man breathes

Maybe, I am biased
Because, I had to live with it
For the longest time, and
I guess I succumbed to the Stockholm Syndrome
Captivated by the charisma of my own baser instinct
It’s all I had

Anger has touched nearly every facet of my life
Molded me into some frivolous pot
Of the coldest porcelain
Never to be used and enjoyed
Just pitied and sometimes the waltzing ephemera of an
Erroneous anecdote
One day, you feel extra sorry for it
And choose to admire it
Then, when the sun comes up and
Shines it odious light-ember on it
The pot glares it back to you
Attacking your corneas
Pissing you off
And there it is
You’re true self
Anger

You didn’t give a damn about it
It was an opportunity to feel sorry
And you feverishly took it
At last it becomes, like you,
Legitimized in your eyes, and
Quite literally
It’s purpose fulfilled
Inequalities rectified, to be
Recollected by the crudest of trashmen
Entropy.
The unifying action
That long-standing practice that gentrifies
All of creation
Anything that was ever born
Made
Or thought of
Decays at a rate appropriate for itself

It is the penultimate stop-loss
Preceding death itself
It wasn’t disobedience that ruined
Creon’s snow globe of a kingdom
It was entropy

Working, side by side, with Time
Entropy weeds out excessive carotids
And derelict rabble-rousers so high on pride
Pushed on and endlessly by the stupid and gullible
Who succeed at nothing but that which seeks to destroy
All that is good and pure and genuine
Rats who are just here to spread diseases, that even
Manages to kill most of them

Hosts for selfish genes
Only meant to dump loads in holes
And hope it evolves
As mindless as amoebas
Postmodern prokaryotes
Masquerading as compassionate multi-cellulars
At a ball they weren’t even invited to
Idiots

Like some metaphysical Robo-cop
Nigh-incorruptible
And with no face to spit on
Righteous and camp
With its own humility
Being its acceptance of failure
Concession and/or patience to ending draconian fads
And dragon-like fags
That won’t die
And are quite content to linger as the
Ambassador of Morocco
Or some stubborn alderman that ceases to end
His grotesque parody of an urban life
Nay, shall not, without the blameless
Tank of gas
Of human ingenuity and tenacity
That is eventually used to
Torch the old House of the Rising Sun
Called now
And from the bedlam of beds
A better shot at the orifice of opportunity
And, oh, how the entrepreneurs will rise
To the occasion of physical libations

The will to live
The stamina that changes things
Favors to entropy
When it’s on its last leg
Little nets in the system that
Catch from the canopies
Wherefore it works

Unwavering and
Immaculate
Never seeming to age
When suddenly Death
Kicks them in the nuts
And they drop like a ****ing
Rock. At the behest of
Good-old maternal Entropy
He’s an architect, you know
With works spanning from the Ganges
To the fall of the Ottoman Empire, to
Bruce Jenner’s ever-optimistic face
It can turn car exhaust into
The greatest amplifier to, say, the sky
Home to the suspicious-looking
Clouds, once kings in an otherwise
Benign and quotidian landscape
That have only entertained the retarded,
Now playing second banana to light-entrapping
Smog

But, of course, there is a dark side to Entropy
It cannot be denied any longer
IT can ruin the most beautiful garden
Age the greatest film to the point of irrelevance
Trash the most satisfying face
Steal loved ones
It can put a stop to your facilities
Without even consulting you
Casual walks to the bathroom, now, suddenly
Marches of shame and self-hatred
And, it’s easy to fall into the crowd crying
Anabaptist

But, it’s alright
Only a stupid person would want to live forever
If everything was still and virgin
Ceaselessly
Well, that’d be alright, right?
No
We’d still ***** about something

Entropy helps make sure that we use
Every single moment we have to
Fully live out our lives without waste without regret
At least that is the intended purpose
And the opportunity cost of lamentations
Would buy the universe and its libidinous imitations
A thousand times over

Entropy
The greatest gift
Ever

But most people don’t see it like that
And, I doubt they ever will
Because when you’re young
You think you’ll be here forever
That the rules of nature won’t apply
But, that can be easily cast on youth
For which it doesn’t count
No, I’m talking about
Manipulative bastards
Who cheat the economy of motion
And emotion
By the buying and selling of
Illegitimate favors
Masturbating furiously, in hopes of
Recapturing their youth
And smoking a big, old, fat cigar
Rubbing it out on our necks

But, that don’t even bother me anymore
Thanks to entropy, none of this will matter
We’re all fodder for ourselves
That’s all


We’re not amazing creatures who
Overcame adversity in the inner-city community pool
Of Evolution
Merely happy accidents that didn’t like to be referred to
Nor accepted as such

Ever since our mothers’ uteri,
Evicted us
Out of our first homes, no less
We’ve been searching for a tranquil domicile
A birthday mantra
Comforting words
That’d make things a little less scary

But, you’re never told it
And, instead, that void goes unfilled,
Prone to infection
And it does
By that unholy trinity of thee
Dogma
Pseudoscience
And Avarice
Amalgamated into a chimera of
Fear
A farcical creature
That could look as benign as pond scum
But suddenly it’s not just pond scum
It’s Hanta virus, E-coli, and some guy with
AIDS, dropped dead right in the middle of it all
Irreverent claims
Unfair practice and
Cheat codes given without authority
By and for
The losers of society

Religious retards, armed only with
There archaic ideas as inbred and watered down as
Commercial hogs, move in
To section off the unseeing populace
And create atomic divisions, so severe
That would make Democritus cry

Damning this, and
Gratifying that with
Impunity, they believe is given to them
By some fairy-tale creature of a man
You couldn’t blow Jesus fast enough
To please these…….people

Obscene and wicked, at least
For that mentality
Where you’re so wont for a reason
To maintain your wacky monoliths
And barricade yourself in a fortress of
Pharisaic melodies

And those, red-faced, sweaty *******
Who after licking the blood of that sanctimonious knife
With their corroded tongues
Are barely able to keep their false form
Behind closed doors
And they ****ing love it

This sadomasochistic lifestyle is
Guaranteed them the biggest boner imaginable
They didn’t hear comfort when they were young
They were told a lie, which,
Instead of helping them to grow
Sullied and stunted

A composite mess, who,
With nothing else to live for, hijacked, supposedly their ideology
And rammed them into that faulty-wiry pair of edifices
Your ego

Black like melted tires or nasty ice
Twice as useless, too
With souls emptier than
A young Republican’s starter home/marriage/rest of their lives
Etc, etc
Once, I felt sorry for these wights, now
I just try to avoid eye contact
And, yes, it’s unfair, being selective of my realities
But, it helps me cope

Fiscal responsibility,
My ***
These tools just want more for themselves, and
Less for everybody else
Empty vessels who want to buy in for the rest of their lives
Believing that there’ll be some sort of pay-off
At the end of it all
But, there won’t

You see, it’s been made that way
And, not by some secret society
Or humano-chauves,
A group of privileged white men, with an impotent
Little homunculus at its head
Though, they are a convenient target, and
Could you blame that assumption?
I mean, we’ve privatized the world!
However, it would be conceited to
Say we invented selfishness

Since the first piece of primordial crap had
The opportunity to
Eat the second
There’s been a race
A race to beat the clock
And live another day
The incessant, ever-present,
Visible from all corners of the world
Monument, erect
The most desperate boner
The want to live
The fear to die

And, that is what it all boils down to
Everything ever done
Has been done
In an effort to stay alive
To stop rot
Maintain this illusion
That you are willing everything of existence

When it rains, why do we put on a coat?
So, that we may know warmth in an otherwise cold environ
When we are alone, why do we surmise the courage to
Damn the present and look to the past when there were better times
With our friends?
Because socializing created a periphery in your eyes
And you fear irrelevance
When we commit to a salivating congress with foreigners,
Naturally it is to clean our mouths

But, it is so much more
All of these scenarios evoke within us
Feelings of power and control, and of
Being needed and loved
Ethereal for which to lubricate ourselves with and
Proven to create exclusive, numbing moments that
Even for a moment
Supersedes the spectrum of existence

The sexiest route
To Nirvana
Our own fleshy bodies
And not just our own
But of others
That thing you should take away
Whenever you’re inside someone else
And, even in the day-to-day
The platonic
You come in contact with completely-different
Microcosms.
Worlds that took years to assemble themselves
A frontier of rampant emotions and, petty ideas,
Musty schizophrenia and sulfuric grief
Histories that will be lost to disinterest and worms

And we’re not the same person our whole lives
Why, in a lifetime
We may become
One, two
Or several hundred different realities
Times everything that has ever lived and will
Continue to live long after the universe up and
Tumbles in on itself and begins
Again?

Ad infinitum

There will be so many beautiful people
And so many great ideas
Horrendous wars of culture and brass sentiment
With hideous casualties
That would force everyone to scale
Insane, ludicrous, and obscene
Men and women
That will prove entertaining
Forever and ever

And, you’ll never be able to
Live them all


However, these aren’t the harborless precipitations
Of my own lesser being
These dregs have been there
Waiting for as long as they have
To show up

i guess i should introduce this piece. it was written for an english assignment two months ago. my teacher suggested i should publish this, but the delusions end there.

Just brilliant..I think your Teacher was/is right..Great piece of work..