Full of Guts and Seeking Glory.

Featured Image -- 8524

Americana Injustica

We had spent all of ‘eternity’,

as we both knew the word to be,

swaying in time to a ticking,

the archaic music of a dying breed,

a mixture of feelings,

stacked up to the ceiling,

the shift in direction so subtly,

akin to the route of my thinking,

I define what is the lonely,

unyielding and unbending,

I despise my own tale’s ending,

tired of telling the story,

full of guts and seeking glory,

I will seek for all my days,

I will break for my own sake,

you can’t console me,

you won’t be able to hold me,

I seem to slip on through,

no stitching remains rip-free,

tears up and along the seam,

those same old railroad tracks to my dreams,

I shake awake too late to warn you,

we’ve already gone,

you and me.

View original post

Heirs of the Dismissive.

Featured Image -- 8522

Americana Injustica

Where we’ve been,

where we’ve gone,

the air that our wishes,

were once let loose upon,

the heirs of the dismissive,

the prayers of the strong,

the prison yard politics,

to which we each belong,

but who will check the archives?

who will search when we are gone?

what craft can be created,

to out-do what we have done?

we divide ourselves,

by continental shelves,

we make war and carry on,

in a pattern of regret,

we somehow forget,

to protect the common bond,

to nurture what remains,

between every human being

we are such monstrosities,

walking, talking blasphemies,

without a thing to lean upon,

and in the end of everything,

the same ancient dust,

is deep within all of us

what we’ve evolved from

a history so long,

who will be left here,

when our time has come?

to reconstruct

so much stardust,

into solid human bone?



View original post 2 more words


Featured Image -- 8520

Americana Injustica

“Nowhere can man find a quieter or more untroubled retreat than in his own soul.”
— Marcus Aurelius

Knock knock knock
The constant tap at my bones
Phone and doorbell ringing
Can’t you see there’s no one home?
I don’t care to talk
See me drag my feet along
inbox and voicemail overflow
Don’t you see that I’m withdrawn?
My own voice brings a shock
I hate its dead and hollow tone
I wish you could recognize
My need to suffer this alone
Buzz Ring buzz ring
a constantly vibrating phone
Each day it rings more clearly
how peace will never come
A steam kettle whistling
The sound of my nerves boiling
I need some space to retreat
Before I blow, and cease to be
Why is it that everybody
takes my status personally?
I’m just tending to my wounds
I am not in your shoes
and you don’t stand…

View original post 112 more words



Hello, don’t offer me the soured Nothings,

oh no, don’t start defending the filthy,

there’s a ring to a man doing little boy things,

there’s a sting in the shiftiness underlying…


Ergo, don’t bother with empty apologies,

hell no, don’t think you’ll get the luxury,

there’s an emphasis to all of this unhealthiness,

there’s a trumpeted sad truth quite clearly…


hello, it’s me – that glutton for your absurdity,

hell no, I can’t call you a man any more than I am,

there’s a truth to be told between you and me,

there’s a ghost to behold within its delivery.


R.I.P. Halloween.

  • Until this year (the Waking Nightmare Election 2016), Halloween has been the ONLY day on the American Calendar that permits dressing up like anybody or anything that suits one’s fancy and calling at the front door of people’s homes after dark, to be warmly received and given candy. Unfortunately, it appears that from now on, we will be dressing up as sheep every fourth year to hit the poll booths so Halloween will no longer hold the uniqueness that it always had. Granted, there will be no wiggle room in regard to costume customization for voting days in the future, as sheep all look the same, but it steals the sunshine of Halloween costumes, all the same.
  • Halloween is the only day of the year that legally allows one to construct a hideous display of macabre and terrifying scenery in the front yard without being held as a kidnapper or terrorist for 48 hours.
  • Halloween is also the only day that I have ever been successful at scaring the parents of several toddlers badly enough to make them literally ditch their young and end up out at the curb without thinking twice. (Once, the dad actually came physically out of his shoes when he bolted).
  • Candy
  • Adorable youngsters dressed up as all kinds of adorable things at my door, trying to say “Trick or treat!” through missing front teeth.

You’re A Worm.


I wonder if you realize how disgusting you are for what you are doing; no need for me to go into detail…you’re fucking gross, dude.

Two things I have learned in recent history that 110% do it in terms of TOTALLY TURNING ME THE FUCK OFF:

  • Being talked to like I am an idiot.
  • Trying to be taken home by a guy (that I used to fuck, a chunk of time ago – like years) who is now sporting a 22 year old girlfriend.

Like I would EVER sleep with you again after knowing this condemning fact about you, dude?… get real. That’s like, my daughter’s age, you sick fuck…you are supposed to be a grown ass man, and I am deeply disappointed to know that you went astray down the road bordering pedophilia, it’s sordid.

Eating Thorns.

Featured Image -- 8505

Americana Injustica

All this time

in between

then and now

been simmering

been building up

rather patiently

brooding silently

been grinding teeth

been stomping feet

been digging holes

with an upward swing

eating poisonous thorns from trees

like it’s sugarcane

with Mexico’s best peyote

cigars and syringes

sparkling fringes

champagne, cocaine

and pornography

somewhere out there

fathomed too deep

where I hardly sleep

but my eyes stay closed

my mouth remains sewn

over words of my own

this place is forsaken

this space can’t be taken

the loose change shaken

from the secret pockets

sewn inside my cheeks.


View original post