Old V

I drove home pretty drunk off a 40 of Old E.
I don't want to ever drink a 40 of anything but Malt Liquor

Old E's never let me down but Old V has done
The tired humming of the inadequate mouse left running on the rusty wheel
THERE is NO cheEse, I SAY, There is no mAzE, true

Old E's never let me down but Old V has done

says, Old V again, to old V, again

Maybe I can tranquilize the mouse with a nug of weed
I rather grind my teeth on the gnawed hair of a fancy cock
than
  deal
     with
         the
            mouse's
                feet
Old E's never let me down but Old V has done
I'm going to snort some white (d/c)ream until the mouse FUCKS off, true
the chEEse smell is IntoXXicating & so i drink OLD E.

says, Old V again, to old V, again.

August 20th 2011

Weaved hair of the indentured servant Bastard child
THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU,
The queen of Hearts since crashed the waved
wire from his head flu

A Blank Slate, but the Chesire cat smiles
DON'T LISTEN TO THEM ALICE,
but the tea didn't consent and the wet
rod frayed on the surface

The mad hatter's hat lays dormant in Bastard
IS THERE ANYTHING TO SAY?
no, the plantation man led us to here
the white rabbit left gray

cubed realism

Let's make it clear Pablo,
we both know why we're here
you speak only in thirds of glass

jagged but in three-dimensional cubes
you scratch and jab at skin
Silly! But no, really it was wanted

Let's make it clear Pablo,
the concrete that hides on Bleecker
won't keep George away from the moth

sexual assault

clawed pig skin
my flesh no longer flesh
red blood drips
but the red sea parts

but grandma says
in the name of Jesus
drag my body
into the Roman's favorite goldmine

on the 3rd day
He died in Jerusalem's bedroom
my corpse bleeds
onto Belzebub's wine soaked lap

dor fantasma

lay the gravestone but the ghost ache won't leave
human jesus
his webs draped in the color of brazillian coffee
beautiful, beautiful
Pariah stuffs our sins inside Him like a piñata
human jesus
His sternum lies crooked from carrying our bloated sins 
he asks
the mother to sharpen His rusted knife but the 
Pariah's sternum 
stays broken because of Padre Pio's mistakes and although
Pariah's tongue
still tastes like Portugual His skin breathes of stigmata
human jesus
bury yourself in the rainforest, but you won't rise in 
Vatican City 

new york city transplants

Momoun's peaks are green but
they donot match the yarn between
her legs

The prince cries across the
pyramid that separates them but the
cow boy

tightens his lasso in Montanna
the desert slaves step lightly on
the green

tail with satin slippers Momoun
drapes herself in grain from Africa
and weeps

clandestine

at some point the past will
catch up with you, an ailment
harder than you ever did sister

maybe i'm just a ruler measurement
but a few more lumps of
cyanide will keep the father away

fwd: let me know if the
sickened cow sleeps or if the
lowly brother bursts in his exaltation

it's better to speak in tongues,
as long as i will rot
for men the highest mother rises