Sunday, November 21, 2010

Never called, so appauled

Least I could do was think of you,
Trapped in my world
Time unfurled
Your friendship a pearl
And I, a swine.
Strung up in the butchers shop
Trying to turn a dime,
Trying to survive
But failing to remember
The best things in life
The simple pleasures,
Waving back and forth.
Falling to pieces.
Here take my bacon,
Take my chops and my sausage.
Take my pig head so full of regret
That it forgot.
Hope you are bem
Muito bem
I'll call soon my friend.

Check out www.monkmanmedia.com

Friday, November 19, 2010

The richness

Every year we waste away
We taste the fruits of labour
Whether ours or those before us.

The socialites gather
In the royal dining hall
Drink champagne and eat
Endangered species.
There workers eat
homemade sandwiches
In the basement of the mansion.

There are dreams with a fix in reality
There are flaws in reality
There are walls in reality
Take me to your metaphoric garden.

We will roast the dodo
And drink the blood
Of a fresh finned shark
Laughing in mirth
About our worth
And our power of seduction.

We will dance in our Italian shoes
With no thoughts of Chinese debt
We will revel in the glory
Of pomp and prosperity
To witty for wondering
To classy for regret.

See now the slave that takes the stage
A creature of habits
Dancing for the next fix
We will sell it to her for double
What we paid
And scorn her for her poverty.

See now the juggler
Clumsy fool
Playing the princes part
Trying to make his rags look expensive
A chiseled jaw and chisler hands
We will spit on the working man.

The gift of time is hours
We of royal parentage
All the time in the world
To shirk the dog and hurl cats
To wing our powers
To greedily devouring
The soul.


Check out www.monkmanmedia.com

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

>

Brothers
Levin / lexicology
Eleutheromania
Etre
Diorism

Plum
Observer / orthology
Enriched
Tripled
Raptus
Yajna

Monday, November 8, 2010

Non Legal Voices

They tell me, that I shouldn't..
That the pass wouldn't...
Or that my chances couldn't

I hear Jeff Vanessa and Faiad call my
name out loud., but by then my heads
light years ahead.. Elis looking at me
coming back from the dead...

The chances of me finding a quarter in
the street are About the same as the
disparity of Jj coming back from his
winter wonderland...

New friends become desperate old
friends fifteen years ago.. some become
brothers others turn to craigslit'
brothels.. my negga still eating some
good waffles... fifteen years and homes
new and old caught in the scene.. Tired
and worried they stare at the
Brooklyn bridge; from the top floors of
a fifteen story window .. Wishing
they could have announced to
something... But wealth is disparity
among wealthy thieves that always
seem to look rich to me... Seem to carry
the death, like I fired someone burden...
And As the aroma of the wine dine..
The Craigslisy pussy on the other aided
side... They jump... body thuds first..
Glasss shatters next... The are
Aroma of death seems wet...

A calmly stand aside as the man jumps
and falls.. With the flickering of my
'stouge' I wave the man bye... His bunny
at least was sleep for the night and the
sky light shines on the semi innocent...
{Its not really Craigslist, but I trust you
know what I say...}

These non legal dead voices taunt and
haunt me... The dead ghost follows me
home... Then it taunts my name as
host.. and like a rat as I roam the
streets.. This time around a cougar
jumps... And the smell of sea and men
retain in my nostril hairs.. Her skin still
smi'thered in salt cement.. Makeup
smudged on her face... It was wet as
she fell from the cliff of a balcony to
her face... The air must've been that
moist...

Now there's two of them...
Dio......Diiooooooo........ and I laugh a
little... Spark another... flimsily go
outside...

This time around a little girl with her
mom smile... She's holding a basketball...
Her cheeks are blushed... She was
playing...

Life is funny... Just when the edge even
to me seemed the answer... A warm
smile was the thoughtful transfer..
A warm smile that day was the
answer...

I go bacxk home and the voices are
faint... They dissipate... Trickle through
the shower.. My fever leaves within
the buck buck hour.., Police noises...

My eyes closes...

I wake in the morning to another
thud....
Another.... Another....
Forever.... Non legal voices....

I'll hang you

I'll hang you..
I'll wrap you...
Like taco... I'll hang you...

I'll wrap you...
I'll rip you while wrapping you...
I'll dig my middle finger in
Your Adams apple...

I'll contract you...
I dank my dangle my jangle
Finagle, saddle up the wabbles..

My, hers and his, the valium
Millionaire treat..

I'll hang you...

Till you end up hanging on the side of a
five story building... Noose tied to your
feet and next, not fretting to forget...
Meat packing district.. LAst I heard
San Francisco, wanted bacxk their sand
and disco... The noose around you r neck
got a little sand and like a ball you disco..
Round ad round like the pain of a ball
I'M surprised you haunt slowly
thrown up, while you hang I and San
Fran feel good...

I'll hang you...

Monday, November 1, 2010

Shower

In 1723 no one took a shower
And look what happened to them.

Check out www.monkmanmedia.com