American Dropout

Look what I found on the corner of Main St. and University outside One World.

Wed, 08 May 2013 05:39:00 -0500

Look what I found on the corner of Main St. and University outside One World.

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Wed, 08 May 2013 05:38:11 -0500

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Wed, 08 May 2013 05:37:50 -0500

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Wed, 08 May 2013 05:37:26 -0500

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Wed, 08 May 2013 05:37:02 -0500

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Wed, 08 May 2013 05:36:29 -0500

True story.

Wed, 08 May 2013 05:35:42 -0500

True story.

Burroughs wrote something about writing being a great cover That might be accurate Or we might be...

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 06:19:00 -0500

Burroughs wrote something about
writing
being a great
cover

That might be accurate
Or we might be double agents

I’m not entirely
sure

If I’m a drunkard
posing as a poet
a freak
trying to stay out of an
institution
a bum
a hustler and a con
a genuine talent
bathing in my own
insecurity and
sin
or another hack
trying to emulate
the black and white
portraits
on my wall

I’m only sure
I’ve gotten the impression

I need an excuse

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Thu, 14 Mar 2013 06:09:00 -0500

A five year old mohawked child leaning forward between the seats said he wanted to give me a high...

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 06:06:11 -0500

A five year old
mohawked
child
leaning forward
between the seats
said he wanted to give me
a high five
I smiled and held
up my hand
He laughed and slapped it
then went for the roll of
cash
I had set on my
leg

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Thu, 14 Mar 2013 06:03:04 -0500

The Stockyard

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 05:56:38 -0500

It was
a place defined by
people

The walls were
grey
stained
dented, scuffed, chipped and
otherwise
barren

They absorbed
the sorrow
of mundane repetition
and locked it away
forever

I drank there
every day
after work

The Stockyard

That was also the name of
the bar

There was still a
cigarette machine
against the wall
near the door
and a cloud of
smoke
lingering
over the last
of the true American
heroes

They were loyal
as scratches in the
planks

It didn’t matter
that I was in a tan
canvas jumpsuit that
stank of shit and
sweat

The pours were generous
the men were bold and
the women
were understanding

They were my people

Junior fucked
Lucinda in the bathroom
on a Wednesday
night
We all knew
nobody cared but they
caught hell
anyway

Kenny puked
in the trashcan and
came out with a napkin
stuck in his beard
the fat fuck

Martin and his
boy
Ted
settled everything over pool
Last time they weren’t speaking
over some damn Sunday afternoon
comment
they racked one game
after another in
silence
for a week

Carrie danced on the bar
her birthday
gift to us
usually she’s twenty pounds over
weight but
that night
she was perfect

Then there were my boys from
the office
as we called it on a particularly
excessive night
Joey B was always wearing
half
his jumpsuit around his
waist
to show off his delts
in the white tee
He was lifting all
the time
Pill was the happiest
smartest guy in
the bar
or anywhere
He had a speech impediment
on account of his hair-lip
a shitty transparent haircut he kept
soaked in grease and
he was skinny as
a junkie
but nobody had
a bad word to say
about Pill
Then there was Hector
who Joey B did construction
jobs with
on the side and
they were practically brothers
brothers who exchanged
punches
to the face
on occasion
Hector didn’t work in the
stockyard
but he usually came out
anyway

They all came out
the night
The Stockyard
closed

We drank like the
Germans
were invading and
laughed
like the world was
ending
on a rimshot

It was shoulder to
shoulder
around the three-quarters
bar and
empty
everywhere else

Martin and his boy kept their seats
Joey B and Hector didn’t fight
Junior and Lucinda waited to take it back to her place

Carrie
wouldn’t come home
with me

but the bottle of
Crown
did

And I didn’t fall on
my ass
walking out
the door

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Thu, 14 Mar 2013 05:32:27 -0500

Why can’t we just be poor drive shitty cars drink after eight or ten hours of minimum...

Thu, 14 Mar 2013 05:23:11 -0500

Why can’t we just
be poor
drive shitty cars
drink
after eight or
ten hours
of minimum wage
work
fuck
a few times
a week and have
snot nosed
brats
who will
steal
car stereos at
thirteen

Let’s defy
the soulless
cliches of
advertising

Live
for me
and I’ll live for you

We’ll
slow dance
in the living room

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Mon, 28 Jan 2013 07:49:55 -0600

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Mon, 28 Jan 2013 07:49:16 -0600

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Mon, 28 Jan 2013 07:48:38 -0600

There is definitely something wrong with me and I’m tired of hiding it I can still sit down...

Mon, 28 Jan 2013 07:46:00 -0600

There is definitely
something
wrong with me and
I’m tired
of hiding it

I can still sit down at
a typewriter and
think

This is it

today’s the day
I turn it all around and
make all my ex-girlfriends
ask
all the painful
questions I’ve been asking
every day since
they left

My phone will ring
day and night
their unanswered calls
ignored messages
and blocked friend requests
will prove
to everyone
I was never
the monster

Tina Fey is making
fun of me
And Hank Moody is
stealing
my life

All the angry tweets in
the Twitterverse
are ambiguously
directed at
me

Don’t think I haven’t noticed

I have feelings too

I talk to myself
and it’s not usually
nice things
I have to say

I feel guilty
for crimes
I didn’t commit

Because you’d never
believe me

I’m not as cool
since I quit smoking
cigarettes and

I’m worried

I might live longer

I’ve gone too
crazy
to keep
smoking weed

So I don’t

except
when I do

I don’t give a fuck
about cool
I don’t give a fuck
about fame
or your idea of
success

I don’t give a fuck
if you like me

I just want you
to love me

My friends
don’t really like me

I don’t blame them

Most decent folk
wouldn’t want to be
seen
with me

So they don’t call
when they’re in town
and the ones in town
run

I’m incredibly lonely
and I love
being alone

I take pictures of myself
because there’s still flesh
on these bones

Most
Every woman
I’ve ever loved
treated me like
shit

And I still look
back like I’ll
never
do better

I’ve gone down
on a girl
I just broke up with
to make her feel better

And rested my head
tenderly
on the shoulder of a
stripper
during a lap dance

And I wonder why
the nice
kind hearted
normalish women
are repulsed
or afraid of
me

There is definitely something
wrong with me
but it’s not as bad
as you think

It may not be bad
at all

I have a
friendly
spark
in my eye
and a short
fuse

I take more shit

than a hog
farm

What are you trying
to prove?

Why do you sneer and
talk to my back
in line
at the gas station
you
cowards?

Don’t go
out of your way
to slow me down

It isn’t working

It’s too late
I already know

We’re not the same

I’m not saying
I’m special

but you just did

Look
into my eyes
and tell me I’m
lying

I’d rather love
you
than hurt you

George W Bush
Simon Cowell
Tyra Banks
Pat Robertson
Taylor Swift

and every asshole
glaring
from a giant fucking
pickup
truck

Disney
couldn’t kill it
Bravo E! and MTV
couldn’t kill it
Not even
the World Bank
or the Council on Foreign Relations

Can kill

The Spirit that

lives
in me

And all you need
to know is there’s
nothing
to be afraid of

There is nothing to be
afraid of

There is definitely something
wrong with
me

I see what’s wrong
with the world

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Mon, 28 Jan 2013 07:12:24 -0600

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Mon, 28 Jan 2013 07:11:40 -0600