Los Angeles Im Yours

this city truly is the pacific oceans vomit
this city is heavy with a lack of life
this city breathes chokingly thick smog
this city pisses on all reverence, with no remorse
this city gives you the chills, not the good kind
this city bathes in fluorescent light, polluting your senses
this city laughs with love and grace tumbling from its lips
into a vat of french fry grease
this city makes me feel as though ive been greedy with gravity lately
this city hangs those who try too hard
this city
this city
oh god
this city

i feel my mouth open
steaming, burning breath
pouring through my fangs
dripping with this seasons hippest blood
the locomotives lie
gasping on the beach
like starving dogs that have finally accepted their decay
there is a heavy humming in the air of this desert
as i lay
my skin burning
tendon and bone
drift
sway
so delicately across
the nubile sand
that now fills the skeletons of the towers
that once shouted "PROGRESS"
now whisper "DEMISE"
our gods have returned
brining with them
blood curdling admonition
the very machines that birthed
have layed down righteous necrosis
leaving only barbie dolls in their wake

either way...i love that machine

either way, i love that big, beautiful, bleeding machine
because i know why the caged gorilla destroys the bars
those smoke stacks on the orange horizon
spitting vomit
layered on all that is chrome
and the sudo-souls of left hemisphere pornagraphers
i will rise up
i will rise up
from this tarmac field
traced by number plates
let that fat man screaming numbers
upwards
towards the sky
be drowned by the roar of our pistons
shooting sparks and confetti in our wake
as we accelerate through the hills
and canyons
setting them all into flame
and those poets on the city floor
will cry and say
"oh how the mountains are ablaze!"
"the beauty! the horror!"
and i will rise up
standing at the pinnacle
with the floating embers below
the soft, flickering, orange glow
and the antennae towering over me
a crooked silly smile
knowing those poets on the city floor
do not see
what i see

ghost tore a hole

everything seems stuck like a malfunctioning CD player
looplooplooplooplooplooplooplooplooplooplooplooplooplooplooploop
well being numb isnt going to cut it
up on a ladder
je suis le minotaur

this is what a young/educated/wealthy/white/northamerican/boyfromthehills looks like

waiting for the ultraviolet to pour in
a rabid rat in a white walled cage
bleeding out my pores
storming the Bastille
throwing white plastic chairs across the roof
lashing out
idontknow
crashing down
idontknow
thrashing now
idontknow
twitching slow
idontknow
what the problem is
with a pixel blown out on the screen showing an animal film

a new feeling

a new colour if you will
similar perhaps to how Jay Gatsby feels waltzing through his own party
completely dissatisfied with every event
or
like discovering an old friend's new bad habit
seemlessly coupled with
a vibration of uselessness,
a subtle glaze of confusion
like the way clouds hover low during the evenings by the sea
while the blinking bulbs of far off sailing ships
swell on
and off
burning in the expance

welkum hom

since he flew in last night
i remembered who i was
at least who i was trained to be
i floated through four different bodies of water
looking to find solace
only became more lost
like an ant perched
on the edge of a wet,
lipstick stained,
champagne glass
trying to decide which death is better
welcome back to the desert plains of sedated infants
the grassy highlands of powdered make-up and pills of extacy
skeletons of air conditioners
and carcases of tour bus coaches
a bright,
fire truck red tear
rolls down to my chin
which caused my eyes to burn and stare towards the sky
squint shut and vibrate with my thoughts
knees buckle and hit the dirt
as the cadaver chooses to follow

locust focus

sometimes i wonder what goes on in this fucking city. sometimes i picture bundles of bills laid out on a collapsing old wooden table, lined with blood, bottles and oil. all while i lay here, my eyes welded to the ceiling, watching my tee shirts and underwear sway in the wind on the clothesline in my room. she walks closer to the window. i hear her coughing echoing through the concrete hallway. i jump up in bed, turn over, just to watch her walk by. i stop her and quickly make something up to ask her. she ends staying longer than i thought. she couldn't make out my outline through the screen on the window but i could see those peacock feathered eyes clearer than the sun on the wet concrete after the storm.
my mind stalled like a teenager driving a stick shift. she became bored with me and stepped back and away into her purple and orange mis-matched, beautiful pattern of a world. i hung off my top bunk frozen for a little while, staring out the window. stuck. then sporadically tossed back over to stare at the underside of the roof again. i lit a cigarette. it tasted like the San Diego entrance of the US/Mexico Border and i lapped it up like one of East Africa's sickly desert dogs scrounging for water. why do i get stuck staring and blowing smoke into Adonai's heavy, light blue eyes? i think myself in circles defecating largely meaningless shit on paper. i become an animal, scurrying nervously back and forth in the sweltering rear seats of an out-dated, mid-size four door automobile in the center of a giant parking lot in front of some American multi-national franchise superstore.
no matter.
the jazz keeps blaring next to my bed, while the television in the dining hall keeps screaming the scores of todays football matches. i still stare. i pick up a Time magazine off the wax infested desk and read an article about crimes, globalization, and gangsterisms. new piano chords come through the broken speakers like little fireworks bursting in front of envious stars. one day soon i will step out under california sunshine and dance on that classic kind of rainbow gasoline. i will stand in true freedom, turn my palms upward and it will all explode. it will come out of me as the confetti does in times square when that giant cheap disco ball drops and the drunks make all kinds of new lovers. like constant wind chimes and stardust i will roam the deserts.
still staring at the ceiling. i cried while she picked me apart on the cold hard floor in the hallway. i brought her back in the room and we climbed up to my bunk and laid there 'till the sun shrugged. we wrestled in slow motion until nine thirty. she kissed my forehead before i climbed out of bed. i found a beer and an apple and sat at my desk. i still stared. out the window. i had to open the beer with my teeth i had no opener. as i sat she asked me what i was feeling. i replied, "as wax does on the side of the candle as it descends." "why do you say shit like that?" she said. "i know, sorry",i countered back. "i have no idea how i feel, maybe a little sick. like being kicked in the teeth", i said. "sorry, im doing it again" it was silent, i didnt mind. i was pretty sure she had fallen asleep already, like a bio-chemical war victim on a hospital bed. her chest slightly pulsing up and down while her covered eyes twitched as she dreamed of what only i could wish to see. of trains en route to St.Petersburg and bicycles in India carrying massive bouquets of flowers, like moving graffiti on England's London Underground, throwing fashion models and teenagers back and forth in concrete and brick pipes. clouds blooming and trees collapsing.
im still staring. tapping my pen on my cheek. windows are my television. i know its her last night in town but she can sleep right now. i threw my white shirt over my head, grabbed my smokes, a newspaper, and the keys to black, French tank. i slammed the door behind me and flung my jacket over my shoulder. i sprinted down the innumberable amount of stairs in my brown brick, satellite dish encrusted, flat tower. skipping every other stair on the way. i jumped to the bottom. i jogged across the car park and watched my breath escape from my lungs. yanking open the driver side door violently, i begged the truck to start. as i sat in, i turned her over and heard the deep growl begin. i was off. forcing neon signs and soaking wet concrete past. im still staring. out the windshield now. moving my arms and legs in strange mechanical movements. staring straight forward. i didnt even know where i was going, i didnt care. either way it was far and fast, and thats all i wanted. its funny how the smallest, most usual thing can drive you up the wall. like a fly that keeps returning for moisture, pestering your eyes and mouth. or a splinter under fingernail. it just proves that trying to get away is useless. people are always telling me "youre to hard on yourself" or "your own thinking is gonna get you down". the problem is, i keep finding new truths in my thinking. its hard to stay away from things you know and feel are correct.
red light "FUCK!" i thought and screamed as i dropped 100,000 bricks on the brake pedal. i ended the squealing of hawks under my tyres in the center of the intersection. completely surrounded. thirty some odd headlights. all of them. staring. staring at me as i stare back. moments pass and horns begin to blare, as i slowly shift her into reverse and slide the truck backwards towards my place in line. i waited. still staring. staring at the aignal with my foot hovering over the accelerator like an impatient school boy waiting for the bell to ring. stomped on it and the truck leaped forward, careening through the city. as i turned up the main road on ramp, my phone rang. it was her, screaming at me to come home. she was crying my name as i threw the phone in the seat next to me.
i tore up the motorway as if i were on fire. a good old song came on the radio and everything went silent, except for the song. as i accelerated faster, i rolled my eyes back and covered them with my eyelids. i became suspended, and felt Adonai's breath on my body. my limbs sawyed as the trees do and my mind began to slowly blink like the blood coloured lights on the corners of skyscrapers do while guiding massive steel birds to the edge of the earth. in the hands of the God Of Machines, i fell. asleep and released as i careened into the concrete wall of the center divide. causing flowers and fireworks to bloom from the wreckage.

mechanisms are alight
dark curtain cover
the scarce concrete
in a cargo truck graveyard
next to the turbo hot rod space traveling astro cars
swirling engines
shaking my teeth
rumbling the earth
like legions of pigs
clammoring to see the edge of the cliffs
to end the futility
with steel war insects
scouring the air displacing bombs over tokyo