experience needed

cunt wannabe

the fake tie

aint foolin




you can’t work

when They tell you

there is

no work

for YOU


you’re disposable

when your fashion

runs dry

when the degree

no longer

fits the culture


no peace of mind

piece of shit


rent due

the plants have died

landlord of the doldrums


make quiet


famous on the stage

the speech

full of hope

now plagued

with doubt


only famous in squalor

the tenant

with the friendliest rats


you haven’t paid

those dues

lazy millennial





take it in the ass

play the game

learn the riddles

pay up front

in blood


fresh flowers

adorn your grave

that GoFundMe

paid for

typing out nonsense

or is it?

i’m thinking fuck

I write fuck

a thousand fucks across the page

we are fucked

i need to get fucked


wonder what it would be like

to go down on those

who walk tall

in an eternal slumber

not aware

would it be taking advantage?

sloppy seconds

they’re already fucked


you can’t call them anybody


maybe nobody’s

no bodies

they’ve fucked themselves


those with faith

are weak

they play pretend

stop praying

that little boy died of cancer

his parents are fucked


teen punks

snort coke

slap veins

and tie off

their bed

tiled floors

porcelain god

full of shit and puke

the welcoming pillow

that dirty father fucked them



the demented weirdo

fucking 70’s

sits down to coffee

they just want him to leave

1 dollar

the coffee might last him

a few hours

maybe there’s a burger waiting for him

in that back alley

drink the coffee fast

you make them uncomfortable

they leave half eaten plates

they are future fucked


the crippled

and ugly

are allowed

in small doses

unwritten rules

dictate ruthless bitches

grotesque beauty standards

matte finishes

rebel red

those poor animals

they’re fucked in cages


screaming mouths

etched out words

on burnt soil

the angels

sin on earth

when humanity

doesn’t give a fuck





Ms. Ratchets patronizing, flicking that sticky finger at me

“Wake up Mr. Lucidity” ……………………………

Reality was not clarity but how long could I play the game in disguise


Us, the writers, the artists those crazies alike embrace the malevolence

To experiment and commit to the empathy from the horrors of apathy

We hold hands with the bitches of bloody sin and bury ourselves in puke

We’ll eat fresh blood from humans and make love

Taking metal and rape and hunger to expose


Our love is barbaric to them, but a love affair to the insane

We’ll drink in the monsters and sing with junk

Banter can be found between walls, stained sheets, sticky cunts

Nicotine screams dripping from walls

As the lady drips amongst us from lonely rancid rooms


We, the ones who suffer to the wills of man, howl blood amongst the bearer of red ties

We. the ones who crucify ourselves on loomed couches and to the breasts and sweat of one night stands.


We, beg not for death. Instead waiting listless for life to cease.

Femininity pools in rich crimson around the wasted mother’s feet

The warped clocks wane with futility and fate ticks

Dead eyes from the young spring musical notes in gold


In the oust, flames wreck through buildings

I shave in red light to hide the blood

Roxanne pays tribute on her knees


I write from heaven after they told me I wouldn’t

I write sex when Jesus turns around

Not of guilt, his laughs would deafen


The perfect fuck is always the next girl

The one who’ll never


Glory holes fill manic pleasure

Cocks belonging to others


Green pigs in suits suck off machines

Black bowler hats and blowing smoke


Open wide pretty mouths are always tempting

Sharp tongues spit snakes and candy breath


I scream within a scream

I stifle rosy cheeks, oily sweat amongst the acid high


Anger management is planting trees on earth day

And tonguing pink velvet on the nights I melt