once upon a time.

sometimes
AM radio is the motion picture soundtrack;
sleep never exists;
hate means power;
boredom can be freedom..

nothing more too beautiful
what the newspaper says,
all is full of loving entertainment.
all is well
another time the rich will own the poor,
the weak
will kill the weak.
and now you tend to remain in heartbreak.
so beautiful..

sometimes we cant tell
what we are thinking; old and aged regretting,
this is what we have become so full,
so empty we can laugh at it all
'till the end
it is engraved in marble statues
being prayed upon in a street somewhere.
a place called your cuntry.

ever wonder what they think of us?
not that we would care
for we always lose what's ours.
its funny to see irony,
and its hilarious when you are in it.
all there is is madness,
all will be just plain sadness.
and it is not bitter. its just there.

and now, it is time to binge,
soothe that merlot, churn in an angel san miguel.
savor every sip. hit that bong.
take your sweet milligrams in and heftily,
and take a big whiff from your cigarette.
it is time..
your will you forget,
you pay with no cost,
you claim
what your mind always had lost...

living
trapped and funny.
cotton with knives out.


and happy
with a broken heart.


(it smells like acrylic now.i dont want to think anymore)