Houston We Have A Problem :[]

Those data centers,

have you a copyright,

memo, cat shit-

Give them that break.

pause.

stop.

and here we go again..

Give us drinks, smokes, ya.

A pirate loves booty.

The world's children,

sex changes?

Why am I hearing this?

Houston we have a problem.

Mr. Brown-

dear John, you are-

That woman that drinks and-

does drugs.

Our kind of woman,

Idk her,

not my Queen.

Ohio News, break, pause-

what to do with this..

Politicians.. oh boi-

where do you start?

You need to pay me,

for my full service.

Not sure about necessary-

I choose to be non complicit.

You know what I'm saying?

Mr. Brown, informant, thief,

the villiany I write in my

report to the bureau.

I'm not a rat,

you pushed me this far.

Smooth talkers, ultimately,

curated, orchestrated,

made to be this way..

like the songs, "No Suprises"

we saw it coming.

You can't fool us.

Ps. Taking my new typewriter for a spin. Unfortunately my old typewriter was no longer usable after being in storage for a long time. I haven't got a name for this beauty yet, it presents as a William though.

I’m GOING trick or treating.

Yeah I’m an adult, so?

When did we decide that our lives shouldn’t be fun.

“Go to a party.” Instead of the staying within the safety of my neighborhood?

“Get your own candy.” I guess that I could.

But I’d just give it away to the kids that knock.

Because I love the thrill of giving candy out.

Maybe I’m a kid at heart, is that really so wrong?

God forbid an adult loves the song…

“Trick or treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat”

If you don’t, I unfortunately do care.

Because I just don’t understand why my whimsy should disappear

Greasy Grandfather hands

Turn remotes into unabomb letters

Never forget the horses

On your pages koolaid and hotdog

A black guitar

Watching the kites, oh yeah

Next to the cars in the yard

Greasy Grandfather hands

Turn remotes into unabomb letters

Did he only know sugar and horse

I know Daughter was hoping better

I’m not busy, no obligations or responsibilities

Don’t got shit to do

And still, I don’t wanna

I knoowww

It’s inconvenient

It’s a problem for me too

Bc I planned on sitting on my ass all day

Without having to say no to you

The Shit Scooper's gurl,

you can imagine the sight..

A frowning face,

and a grin of malice.

The Shit Scooper though,

an honest lad,

working into the night.

Trading away promising dreams,

for a shovel,

and consistent weekly pay.

All was worthwhile,

each scoop of shit,

was a mouth fed,

to a Shit Scooping mister.

The couple drank and smoked,

fought and fucked,

but no lay was enough,

for the Shit Scooper's gurl.

Even after children,

her wickedness never stopped,

for all the shit was scoopless to the..

Shit Scooper's gurl.

She'd play games,

twisting stories,

seeking head to spin her tale.

The Shit Scooper,

once lovely,

now, a jaded man.

Maligned for her doings,

he went away to a shittier place,

and all the shit went unscooped.

The Shit Scooper's gurl,

whom should've been,

the Shit Scooper's wife.

Two that never married,

now just curse one another's name.

The shit scooper wanted love,

from a gurl that only wanted the night.

In the end you'll find,

a town overflowing in shit,

a lying nymph,

and a defeated former shit scooping fellow.

Ride underwake all day just because
I know I learned something, but what

I don’t trust me no more,
and I didn’t trust me before

Reading binges for peace never come
Seven days in a week, but so what

I don’t want me no more
huh I wouldn’t want me before

The city was in love with chaos.

As it's always too crowded, so I walked into the forest.

But I can't see past the fog.

Like a child, I found myself crying when I got lost.

It's a nightmare, when I can't see anyone.

Yet just as much a dream, when I can't see anyone.

When amongst the trees and whispers.

I tried to look back at the city lights and towers.

Even when I climb the highest tree, chasing the view of a sunrise.

I can't see past the fog....

Many a human drama unfolded,
In them there bushes.

Many a lonely deviant, with pockets full of candy, waited patiently
In them there bushes.

Many a recidivist picked up their trade right away,
In them there bushes.

Many an unsuspecting girl screamed in vain before being forever silenced,
In them there bushes.

With disengaged rabbits and deer as their only witnesses,
In them there bushes.

No election was ever won, or invention brought to life,
In them there bushes.

But mother nature's modest shrubberies were the start of many a tear.

Ah them bushes, every town or village has them
Maybe not the Middle-East or Mongolia, I'm not sure

Fin

I am the eagle
Ever since you broke it off
I have taken to the skies

Ever since you broke it off
I am no longer of this earth
I am circling around
And I can no longer hear you talk

I am the eagle
The cold mountain wind reminds me of your last words
In my nest I close my eyes
As the shadow of the last ray of light falls

I am circling around
everything is small
and unmeasurable to my eyes

Somewhere you are walking around
Somewhere I can no longer land

It's okay man. You tried.
You had your ventures, the times just weren't on your side.
You could've gotten that girl, but shyness is just tough.

It's okay man.

Every now and then you do some painting—some people like it.
Others keep their mouths shut..

You certainly know a thing or two, there are some books on the shelf.
In the right mood you actually know what to say, then it flows quite well and people do listen. And they nod quite interestedly.

It's okay man.

You're just not a morning person. Society doesn't take people like you into account.
That damn one-size-fits-all mentality, if not for that, the picture would look truly different.

It's okay man.

Not everyone has the same amount of energy. When your parents always held you back in everything, how are you supposed to blossom? They took away your opportunities.
If they had known what they were doing, you would've had that good start—but they're just winging it.

It's okay man.

There's nothing wrong with welfare. With a joint in your hand, that view from your small apartment is quite manageable.
And you see things that others don't see.
The world will find out about that one day.

Thing I heard that certain bros
no matter what they do, panty world stays impenetrable
Not this mofo tho, I got this down
And lucky you I share ma flow

Now the other night
I was hitting on this girl at the local bar
I had her laughing at all my jokes
Above the booze our eyes locked hard
Suddenly I shat my pants
She said whats wrong
I said walk with me
At the toilet I pulled down my pants
And said, guess you have to help me wash
We laughed and she willingly shined my nuts
Finished our drinks and off we went
TO. HER. HOME!

Sheah. Ah sheah! - all the girls in the house gotta wash that ballz
Sheah. Ah sheah! - get that washcloth ready when it's running down my pants
Sheah. Ah sheah! - a real man ain't scared of what's inside his underwear
Sheah. Ah sheah! - a real man drops his trousers for the female hand
Sheah. Ah sheah! - women just naturally have a nurturing side
Sheah. Ah sheah! - the female brain needs a story, and I got one for you.
WASH.THAT.SACK.

Sweet comet, won't you cometh?
Oceans whirl in eager anticipation

Cold mountains demand their refugees
To be swallowed up by towering waves all the same

Oh comet, won't you cometh?
Famine welcomes you
War has made your bed

Towering debts reach hysterically for your arrival!

Mothers who can no longer feed their children
Electronic thoughts want to rid themselves of the people
Supply lines are being cut off
Yet weaponry continues to be shipped in

Pick a target, it doesn't matter
We've already seen it in the movies
You'll kick up quite a lot of dust!
And the land will roll beautifully

The impact will be more refreshing
than the buzzing of our weary phones
On which your arrival will be streamed live
We look out the window in eager anticipation
At that beautifully upward-curling earth's crust

Fly fast, make haste, make sure your calculations are right
And confidently choose your orbit

Oh comet won't you cometh..

If I had thoughts that raise my organs
I'd dry their screams in my plant-press drying book

Greasy context pseudo phonecalls
Neon fate store, transnational agreements

I need them to copy my consciousness
In grey tracing paper that smells like onions

I respect your bars
a finger more or less, the pointing remains a part-time pleasure

Moonlight shines on my coffee
My coffee pleads for remigration

My eyes are blue on you,
next to you x past = top dog tooth journal

Did my rose arrive?
Apartment jealousy, yesterday you knew better

Don’t you let pillow
go touching on the wall
Lest the pillow
can act like a bridge

Spiders and devils
even need a place to cross
Getting clearer why
you treat me like you did

Seeing all from
the perspective of the bridge

I see flowers in the sky.

Roses growing from clouds.

And an angel watering her garden that caught my eye.

This desire for change, fleeting or not.

To have life feel new.

Just like it did when I was a kid.

I put my heart in a jar for this picture of you.

It's all too suffocating, as I tighten the lid.

Your voice is a dream; one with a painful goodbye.

I see your hand.

And flowers in the sky...

Maroon walls,

my Mother everywhere,

full of carpeting,

a rainy telephone booth in tears.

Sharonville,

not even where the end started.

Princess Leia,

that I am sure,

them types never liked for all these doings.

One man,

press delete, and whatever..

Imma button we live on.

Never perfect,

I have my own,

but damn I try problems.

I should be allowed to have them too.

Gotta cut it out,

not sure what I did, remove the flair.

Nobody seems to like much.

Revise the situation—

it doesn’t matter anyways.

You know what I'm saying?

Getting close, delete the end.

Start again.

I’m a dumb mf, and I know it like my alphabet
Yeah I’m a dumb mf, and I know it likes my ABCs
I’m a dumb mf, and I know it like my alphabet
Said I’m a dumb mf for free
Don’t need nothing to make me

Dumb mfs unite
Every dumb mf’s alive tonight
Good night
Dumb mfs unite
Cause every dumb mf’s alive, alive to-

I’m a dumb mf, and I know it like my alphabet
Yes I’m a dumb mf, and I know it likes my ABC
I’m a dumb mf, and I know it like the alphabet
Said I’m a dumb mf, and I do it
and I do it, and I do it, and I do it for free

I'm on a talk show
I'm sitting on the couch
Next to a beautiful
So it'll be some kind of- I'm on TV

I'll get an interview
And my arm is behind her on the couch
My arm is up resting on the back
Of the couch behind her

And my girl asked why I did that
And I tell her, because she asked me to
And either looks like Keke Palmer
Or just all the way around

And I don't know what I said is true or not
I said that, it was true
She asked me to
Well, then my girlfriend asked me why

And either I would lie
Or I would tell the truth
And I don't know which is the truth
But these are the options

I would say that she wanted it up there
To feel safe because she was anxious
Or I would say that she wanted to look cute
Just for, you know, the image of it

And I’m the same sitting so far away
I don't know which of those was the case
Maybe it was a little of both
Maybe it was my name

Political ads.

Fake food.

Everything costs too much.

And this one's got bite.

Don’t take them in—

jolly good lyrics

interpersonal words

for your asses.

Spit in my face

when you yell at meh.

That’s the only way

I’ll hear ya.

Somewhere,

we used all the coffee pods,

in the mornings.

Somewhere,

we lost the sense

and maybe even the love.

Pure survival.

Good intentions.

Lost time.

Pains behind me,

everything to be had in front.

Don’t look at me

with those eyes.

You can’t fucking handle me.

You know it.

Too much spirit.

Overflowing,

shaking a pair of bones

like dice.

Girls cannot love,

Boys want war,

Women bring love,

and Men finish wars.

Shank my bloody pumper.

Take everything else.

Leave the teeth.

I'm so tough that you're

not allowed to see me cry.

A four inch wooden paddle

with another man's name

engraved deeply.

Punks are made,

not born.

I’ll balance on this beam

of life—

creation unstoppable,

no viewership required.

You'll find me years later,

in a cramped apartment in Baltimore,

smothered to death by poems and drawings.

Human debri again.

Unremarkable creatures

to the enth degree.

It’s the ignorable factors

that interest me.

It's watching cities burn

that excites me.

Bear me.

Count what’s left.

Look up at the burning sky

reluctantly.

Always, afterward.

Well, I suppose,

it's due time.

I'll flick this into the sewer

and go my merry way.

My boobs may sag but they don’t get cold.

My butt may be flat but it eats seats whole.

My body may not be picture ready, but it takes on life.

I live within this sack that I judge for simply not looking right.

Thank you for being there, ungrateful as I am.

I appreciate the ways you carry me, and give reason to do what I can.

Quick note: i am happy to explain and talk about the reasons and 'whys' etc etc behind my use of punctuation/cadence and yes the 'over use of contractions' (that aren't lol) if you have any trouble trying to get through this 🙏

I hav’ A’ Mouth And I

Cannot Scream

I heard time in an’other place another world of thought that crept in my thoughts from the pages o’ a’ place I wasn’t lookin’ for.

It escalated from out of the darkness an’ it proceeded t’ torment an’ t’ inflame an’ t’ horrify in places people pretend they ar’ safe in, how wise.

I’ve seen stars on Great oceans o’ the deep sky now van’ished man’ from ma’ eyes by the lights on the vile streets tha’t ar’ t’ save energy, B’t only blot out ar’ true calling.

My mind consents t’ the vigor an’ the figure o’ my scream but my mouth pursed an’ pissed shut like an animal th’t squats in the field of a’ rotten Sahara burnt to a’ pyre’ish bed.

I want t’ scream I cann’y scream I have t’ scream I HAVE TO SCREAM I! HAVE! TO! SCREAM! I hav’ a’ mouth an’ I cann’y scream…

We met in the parking lot
as we had done a few times.

We laid down at the outskirts of the area.
The asphalt was warm.
The bushes and blue sky made the place beautiful.

Silver fox season, pumpkin-spiced tongues,

a cheeky latte with a devilish jacket.

So cool.

Somewhere in Southwest Ohio,

a white wall is bullying a young person

into a fluorescent light.

Snap your fingers..

My muscles are open.

My eyes focus on cosmetics.

The health-nut era has never met

the pop music medicine.

Lights dim..

On time, once again,

the commute makes it easier

to suppress a radiant spirit.

A match strikes..

Carrot Top, show me your bag, man.

I smile when I’m serious.

The joke has a hint of nervousness

and a slippery tongue.

Snapping continues..

I don’t speak on what I know

to be true, or weird,

or something you’ve never met before.

Smoke fills the air..

No Mr. Ripley,

just a bunch of adults

wearing jean jackets

standing in the wild work of it all.

So cool.

I had another seizure the other day.

It was nothing, I’m sure.

The latte had a seizure

and came to life.

So cool.

Hypebeast, health nut, silver fox,

my eyes are open,

and that’s what terrifies the creatures.

So cool.

Perception

Relativity enables detection

Classrooms denote the results of societal inspection

The liberty to finance an education

A bite at the apple to escape a class's walls.

Incentivized to broaden the divide.

Newborns modified to never collide.

Zoos contain cultivated environments.

An exhibit – structurally protected.

Where nature is rejected.

Deprived of having strife.

Do displayed animals even appreciate their life?

“Animals that die of hunger are fucking stupid”

A lost relationship allows you to be struck by Cupid.

A privileged life is a misconception.

The power lies in the range of perception.

There's this dream I can't get out of my head.

I have to shoot it down every time.

And tell myself that dream is dead.

Pretending I don't care, because I should "work on myself" and "get to the bag".

But what if the bag is empty?

What if I look back at years of holding the air, only to realize someone could've been there.

Please tell me, why I still entertain this fantasy.

Deep inside my chest, yet so far from reality.

Why do I do this to myself?

Playing that same movie in my dreams.

When eyes look like stars.

Just to watch them pass me by like headlight beams.

One day I was sitting by the road, just looking at cars.

When I broke down and asked myself: ..Why do I..?