Hey, Newgrounds. I changed my account name to my actual name and wanted to give a heads up.

Thanks.

Knock, knock, neighbor

Can you spare me some love?

I’m bound in a salted pinch until a clump of money comes in

It's that green dot atop the horizon yonder that you can spot if you hold your breath and squint

You see?

I just need a cup

She put on a good wig for walking around in, aimless, unshaded, down the road to Benson, she went, from Fort Huachuca

Overhead, the cayenne sun was beating a scorched polyrhythmic mirage, she didn’t bother with her Dollar Tree makeup or the storied-facade that for the world and under duress, (gun-point even) she made up, and she put a whole bag of the stuff on her EBT card

And I teeter now on my years spent but I have shed them all, like thinned-out whisks of hair that, to the tune of my days, time plucked out and that I kicked about for who cares how long? Point is, I am now ready to long-last sweep them out the door and then move away from this bent, seafoam-teal duplex that I now condemn myself, and for much more than it's chipping leaded paint and it's asbestos-laden haze and it's staircase to nowhere

I spent long enough contorting at the cusp of a border that, to appease all but myself, I - with accomplices plenty - simply made up

Years that I would talk myself back from the lofty ledge of taking action, in a cycle of getting high and then shrinking at my bed-wetting fear of heights

Years drowned by saliva

The only solution is action, but action is a lousy hypothesis

I’ve finally outsmarted my addictions at least

What else?

Wishes and Curses and their embroidery on a letterman jacket of gold; heavy, expensive and sentimentally valuable can warm a body but not a soul and therefore just makes you heavy and even a fucking sneeze, is something you ought pardon, (and please pardon me also) so for us to interface with the world and each other with anything but love and grace for each other is…

Hmm. What else?

I have a moat and you have no castle

And I’m as intimately inside my city as her homeless are but in a less sexy way

I’m not what I sound like - like the word “rampart”

The way to spell “hi” now, is an eggplant emoji and a drooling smiley emoji and if you add a peach emoji and it spells "wya" and I just found out that people say “emoji” instead of “emojis” because it’s like deer or geese and the guy who I overheard say it on TV said it like we all should know that

This is why education is so important

I keep missing out on shit

If he had said the word “Celeb” I would have… done nothing

You don’t say

You don’t ask

You don’t write

You don’t call

What else you don’t?

No, you don’t do that either

Earths maiden name is “purgatory” And there’s a spell you can recite and with arms up high like on a roller-coaster ride, you say it three times and then you get gaked by something bloody that watermelon-bursts, like from a squib busting on the set of a George a Romero flick with what's his name... I'm not going to look it up

Fuck! Tom Savini

I fuckin' googled it

That reminds me of the time that I couldn't remember Gary Numan's name and it it really bothered me but even now, recalling this, I forgot his name again and had to look it up

I am less concerned this time though because I remember now, that last time, it dawned on me that who gives a shit about Gary Numan?

What else?

My friends won’t believe this because I don’t have any friends but I swear the thing works wonders; you just press this button and then you wonder how it works

It’s my birthday year and I’m a sunless-kind of phase of middle age; paled in Navy-blue Ben Sherman slacks that I cannot overstate are undersized and thus high waters, I escape, but you, you’re like me at your age and You’ve tailored your clothes to your crookedness and

A Persian lady who is all Dance, In her sparkly Hollywood vacation boots, I pass and two little black kids have their shirts off and dance while a hobo busks with a nylon string guitar and seeing all this, when I made it to my doctors appointment, I was very chipper but after ten minutes with my doctor, she paused and got serious and said “Are you feeling okay?”

It’s already a bummer when someone asks you that when you’re in a great mood, but having your doctor ask it is super weak

What else?

Guess that's it unless you got anything?

I used to slap my money on getting off again - a bet that was safe and ribbed for her pleasure then

But alas, my bills turned blue and rank and eventually, even a hooker would have told me to get to work and the fruit flies would reiterate it but I was too busy doing pink cocaine with a swarthy-looking and mustachioed dude - a dude whom was full of it and of face tattoos - that carried around a wrecking ball just in case, that he limply swung at my closet door mirror one time, and he wore shades indoors and raved on about how love is God and that he was chosen

Another guy with a cyanide molar said he’d fix my bike, but last time he came by, he slipped in like the wind that blows guilefully behind your standard cat-burgler or K.G.B spy

Invariably, lies were all he ever brought - lies and sometimes a grape-flavored Backwoods-brand blunt, and a pack of Montego reds

Ever discreet, his gimbled words would remotely encrypt to the point where he had to use the vocoder microphone on my Korg MicroSynth to articulate anything at all

Messages all in invisible ink that only pawnbrokers can read

Messages that - like I then - would self-destruct

He had Google Glass eyes that looked down and around a lot, anywhere but my eyes - a shadow-man that not even the Neighborhood Watch could make, spot or define

We would communicate in Cesar-cypher or Morse code that we would blink to each other

It was either that or we might, with 5-inch voices, whisper into paper Dixie cups that were attached to sneaker strings but then he let go of my libido and something snapped and from the high and windy precipice of a vined brick-building, girders swung back and I would attribute this to his bumper-lane vocabulary and his sense of humor that was like a weak chin...It’s there but that’s about all

The only thing to do was to click heels and saddle a Greco-Roman candle, then let the bottle kick rockets quick, up to the firmament, and let it do its mooning thither in the Chinese side of space

Now is as good a moment as any to say…

No

I don’t want that

Any of it

But I do want to state:

“Pitch of morning's tumbling high-hell, my greetings are now goodbyes to thee

My welcomes to thou farewell”

I beheld and felt so many things, and shopped around for the right mirror with the right feel to it - one where I would approve of what I might see therein

One with a kickstand and holographic grip-tape

I know what I want and I know what I don't want, but in regards to what I am...

So far I've only chosen what I am not

Truthful as an autopsy 

Underscored in porcelain 

Drawing breaths like the air

Was thick hashsheesh from 

Coals on top of tinfoil

Walking with a wider gate

Like I reverted back 

To when men were apes

Everything is everything 

And nothing is nothing

Close to truth

But learning makes me blue

So live it up!

Deaths around the coroner 

I know enough Spanish to fool my friends

But I can’t fool the Mexicans 

I stuffed my problems 

In a shelf

Until my problems 

Began to smell

There is only the right thing to do

And the wrong thing makes two

Why do we suffer most 

By our own unsteady hand?

I wear all these scars

like I’m sporting my own brand

A statistic in many ways

Obscured and lost in the parade

Sent a glitter bomb in the mail

So the feds tossed me in the wrong jail

I swore that I was innocent 

But I’m Too superstitious 

to swear to god on it

I told them every puddle is a lake

The polygraph results were vague

It is written we were made from clay

And the fiery ones all flew away

Open like an unread book

That moths and beetles overtook 

Relics, gems and precious things

Are still among external things

You’ve looked low and high

For solutions and answers

But they were there the whole time

As close to you as your insides

But The battles and wars 

Fought In the fields 

Convinced us all

What’s out there 

is what is real

Too unclean to hire a maid 

Keep coming home to my bed unmade 

Another whores bath in Babylon 

It’s all my fault the gas got turned off

No one sits to wait for the train

It smells like sulfur 

Though it’s pouring rain

They say hind sight is twenty twenty

But I don’t even remember 

A day of my twenties 

The primal lizard part of my brain

Calls the shots day to day

It could be better, it could get worse 

But I still haven’t rode 

In the back of a Hurst 

I ask politely to be excused 

But it still came off as very rude

Count your blessings when you drink

Until you’re so strung out,

it makes you weep

Up and down and in between

I’m just a note oscillating 

Never could meditate 

Always present but in a daze

The holy grail appeared to me

But the round table gave away my seat

The chances are low 

That all who exist

Will go with the flow 

And not against

Gave a buck to a Santa ringing a bell

Like that would save my skin from hell 

If I could go back in time

I’d refuse a longer life

Regan closed the funny farms

It did less good than it did harm 

So many with so little or less

But many of them believe they’re blessed 

I only bought a rosary

Because she was muddy 

and mothering three

Now it hangs above my head 

Depicting such a horrific death

These are all just idle thoughts 

Nothing special 

No forget-me-not

They’ll give you just enough to stay afloat but never enough to swim away



You’ve given it your all and then some more

 bill collector made his bed at your door 

You thought the hoops and loops would end for you

But now it’s happening to all your grandkids too

You can be anything and go everywhere 

But you’ll smell like shit within a week out there

So you take your pen and write your congressman 

But your return address changes once Again 

So you guess you’ll pray and join the local church 

But it’s Another dead end in your search

It’s funny, it’s the same thing we’re all looking for

But by the time you ask for help 

Your bloated body has washed ashore

Wouldn’t it be nice

Just to swim?

You thought the hoops and loops would end for you

But now it’s happening to all your grandkids too

You can be anything and go everywhere

But you’ll smell like shit within a week out there

Two modest puffs

Of the good stuff

Cuz life on blue earth

Is oh so rough

They don’t really care

They’re mostly unaware

And there ain’t no winner 

In a game of truth or dare

Guy’s Dancing for himself 

In front of a subway mirror 

He spit-shined the surface 

But that don't make things clear

When I grew up, teacher said:

“Always look both ways.

Don’t ever talk to strangers”

I miss them good ole’ days

Cold and all alone

With only an Obama phone

In the snow, he sees his breath

But the crystals will be his death

Now it’s for certain 

Bigfoot is real

We all know the government

And the devil been making deals

I want sleep without dreams

To fly without wings

To board up the windows

With driftwood and zinc

I want Casual dining 

And a New York fling 

While on my tippy toes

The water ain’t that deep

Not abandoned

Just ran far away

Not born again or saved

Doc, it all began 

Around 6th or 7th grade

I don’t make eye contact with strangers 

I know better than that

No curtsy, bow or fist-bump

No tipping of a hat

So much of this world’s unknown 

But I can tell you this 

When you think you’re all grownup 

You’re still a little kid

Blasphemously fortunate 

Piously under paid

No way they built the pyramids

With just tens of thousands of slaves

Multiple personalities 

Who will we be today?

We're all Missing something 

Only found within a grave

Cold cut like a hoagie

Got a new electric stogie 

It’s far too tall a tale

That this life has unveiled 

Too tall a tale…

I’ve been an angel

I’ve been a thief

I’ve been a hunter 

I’ve been the meat

I’ve been starving.

With pearls at my feet

I’ve picked the fruit.

No one should ever eat

I’ve been all over.

But I never left home 

I’ve been in large crowds,

But still swore that I was alone

I was important

A Lifetime ago 

Now I’m not sure what matters

Or if I have a soul

I’ve been in jeopardy.

Been caught in checkmate 

I’ve turned the tables 

And I’ve Picked up the pace. 

been flanked by the past

Fight, flight or freeze

Then, now and tomorrow

Which one is me?

I’ve browsed every isle

And I’ve checked out my heart

I’ve never been one

To bring back 

A grocery cart

I am the shepherd 

the wayward sheep

I am the strength 

That makes people weak 

I am the lion

In a gilded cage

I am the fire

The white burning rage

I am the shelter

From the four winds

That locks all the doors when 

You finally get in

I am an ego

I am the meek

I am the joy in

A little Suffering

I am the bread and

I am the wine

But my temple

Is not Devine

I am the night that

Ends every day

I am the saint that

Caught the plague 

I am the gift they

Took from you

I am the life you

Didn’t choose

I am the years

Without the light

I am the fear

That holds on tight 

I am a useless apology

I am a church that’s 

Lost its need

I am the want to

Do what’s right 

Being abandoned 

By the need to fight 

I will be quite certain 

And not a class clown

I will be the black sheep

That won’t let you down 

I promise I’m worth it

Ask all around 

I’ll be back on my feet 

And not the talk of the town

I want to get married

To the love of my life

Tuck in the children 

Kiss them good night

Won’t pour all my feelings

Into a cheap jug of wine 

I will try to see better

When we stand eye to eye 

Nobody’s perfect 

But nobody’s you

I hope you’ll remember 

God’s still learning too

And I pray I have said something 

That I hope will be heard

But one says more in silence

Than one says with their words 

I can only speak

For only myself 

Seems you can’t get to heaven

Without first going through hell

To live forever in heaven

You must first go through hell