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let's go on pretending we can't see our imperfections scratching at the eyes of our friends our mothers our employers. those strangers. like wild animals we sit down to drink our choca mocha dopaminechiattos and have our civilized conversations using our language like fangs to bite down the backs of our friends and our mothers, our employers. even those strangers. those dumb mother fuckers. those stupid dumb motherfuckers. I am one of those motherfuckers.
And underneath your kempt hair and your perfect complexion and your civilized tongue
you are a stupid motherfucker too.
We can't always be perfect friends and perfect sons and daughters. Perfect mothers father sisters and/or neighbors. As humans we falter and we break. What is strength without weakness?
We are not all addicts.
We are not all delinquents.
We are not all disjointed and/or disconnected.
We are Suzie Homemakers. We are John and Jane Doe. We are you me and the other person. We're animals wearing pressed suits and sporting our own hatred softened by language.
We want to be, always, because of our own imperfections. our eyes are bleeding because of our own blindness. Every day I listen to the tapping of our ignorance against the ground, like a droning reminder, which with it's tapping warns all the rest of us blind men:
our existence is redundant.
and serves as a reminder to the stick holder:
stop where you are if you want to avoid a collision.
We are constantly slamming into one another, faces locked and tongues tied.




Can I THINK for myself
Can I FEEL for myself
MOVE YOUR LEGS and take off running
as my my burning nose keeps running
and I ponder what it is to feel INSPIRED presciption pills found long expired....skin to skin I turn up the oxygen
and prepare for a long dive.

When was the last time you felt PASSION
and SPONTINUITY without taking a hit
and tasting that drip
When was the last time you felt anything? hip to hip I turn to you and

RIP OPEN YOUR EYES.

We all come with an expiration date
and a number for a name
and someone else to blame.

I scratch out numbers with my nails to my skin
OUT with the drugs
OUT with the fear and the
PARANOIA reminding me of who I was and can not be
I bleed out the apathy and

recover a name.

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