disutility function

we are a weakening of ourselves & our insides like stakes through the heart or a more or less internalized withdrawal of the senses isnt this a justified immortal italicized misspelling & window dressing magic markers as mismagnified taste treats on the back side of stop signs

     [ ...or... ]
 

im ah

without     [spelledlike:]a

weplaygAMEswith st-t-t-T-T-t-training

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<proper>
I stand before you, and simply, a name without a face,
As we play games with faith and straining dates,
On graves oh forever late, we state innate
Hatred for our futile greaving grip on fate.
</proper>

our hearts and minds
left(notquiteright) amongst the drip drip    drip
fresh out bedroom windows

      we believe in ourselves, dowe?                 yes and  thenagain

maybeonlymaybe is ananswer
for the Lost and(/or) the lipservice generation

     how do you stand up(orout?) to nothing and no one{?}

there can be only one beginningand(&)end &(and) youaintITasshole! we
scream pointing fingers and
                        outstretchedskinnyarms
                                into the never now fading light

( )

then,,,
standingonthis other wrong side across streets andbeliefs and
tryYyingtofocus
onsomeother darkened house notone withthiskey burningallholes
inmypockets (mypreciousitcries or wasthatme?)

or im a window into the future and we’re all streaks
or paper towels not quite greaving
(or) gripping pixie dust like rust on used hondas
or some silver thing i never got to know

we don’t know our name or sing like lame ducks over glorious hills and squirrel tails bounding up tree trunks like a missing manhole cover forging forever like four-legged dogs jealous of the new day traffic lane im another unforgiven fortune teller with a crystal ball only my nephew can see into and he’s got the ball and chain not talking to no one and thats oh kay, you say.

thoughts of late sound like nothing or rather anything & everything we’re running at or from or back&forth between all extremes thoughts of late like opposites attract so the city i loathe and loathed & not wished on my enemies now feels like a possible path not wanting the not wanting or the give-up im only an escapist if thats how my dust cloud & those two cold pillows remember me

with all the options & landscaping in this parking lot laid so clearly in front somehow whats missing is the key like all ive ever wanted was a fortune cookie note to say it just right to convince me & sweep me off my feet so baby just forge one & slip it in w/ that chinese food i hate to eat & maybe you already know its only the disappointment of those notes & lucky numbers yet to spell yr phone number or birthday or six slash twenty slash oh shit i forget was it zero two yeah thats it

but the south side never felt south enough for my tastes & these days i miss so much sun & wind in my eyes like im just not trying to be vague enough i want to write a play abt yr hand in my pocket & that laundry sidewalk smell im the silences between words wishing to be kidnapped & laid at yr door in some country no one knows or maybe there were two more seats open on that plane they made a tv show of i’ll be the bernard to your curly haired black lady whos name i cant think of well now we’re getting somewhere

i forgot to tell you how i missed my first exit leaving last time buzzing on coffee and cigarettes abt four in the first twenty minutes desperately clinging to the hope that i wasnt me bc there was no hope that maybe the passenger seat wasnt so empty.

someday youll get yr wish & someday i’ll hold you to yr promise

-> the scribbling

lets try to write a love song that no one’ll understand & i’ll promise to name it after my lighter or the pocket i keep my cigarettes in & better still we can mask it all in the faint glances i thought i caught & couldnt handle its been so windy today & so much driving this world we love we’re the shared motives & memories or we’re just an idea in the back of a throat of a twinkling pain behind the eyes of this collapsing universe this city circus & clown hair i saw you there we’re withholding another representing reckoning w/ mismanaged meandering im predicting shyness & fiddling w/ wine glasses leaning into conversations & eavesdropping across stickers or buttons im withholding wariness & neanderthal references nearing a white dress & parasol i know you know, right?
lets all be the human condition dreaming of a human condition & hearing conservation theres more words here than youve read so instead i’ll wear my color & flash navel gazing gang size gang signs slicing through crowds of strangers & delinquents yr the color between standards & portraits & maybe im just a stalker running high on caffeine & light blue nicotine isnt that what its supposed to mean?

-> the scribbling