Thursday, June 02, 2005

The Sum of all Slugs

Strangle me with the right intestinal casing.
You could be the sum of all slugs,
or just the salt to weak to singe.

I don’t know
if the moth eaten sweater earned that title
or was designed by hands
to delicate for anything less
than store-bought dirt
and stocking caps
with cartoon skulls embroidered on the felt.
If you are sleeping in the gutters
because you have a warm enough blanket
to protect you from any side effects
of the choice we made.
If we are no better.

But we are,
because we wear our sludge with pride
and let the bulk of it
encrust all of our being.

This is no weekend.
This is no joy.
This is more than sparkling word play.

This is every ounce of hate,
absorbed from lesser men,
spawned from a gift-wrapped paranoia
you’ve only referenced
in your lonely miserable existence.

Laugh off your life
like you’ve laughed me off.
It’s a bad joke anyway.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

Catholic Wedding are pretensious.

by the end of the ceremony, i had forgotten who was getting married. i know that i was obliterated with songs and poems that remind the angels of God's big "Fuck You" to them, that being the creation of the human race. i know at some point the words "love never fails" was uttered, and the saucy goth kid in me couldn't help but say "love does nothing but fail". the saints in the stain glass windows looked on, bored as the day they were killed. i know the loud death march of organ grinding and organs grinding trampled over what was left of my frail psychosis with glossy black hooves..the funeral music for youth and freedom obnoxious in it's bombast, it's bells tolling for thee.

in the middle of the church there was this big statue of Christ on the cross, cause i guess the only worthwhile thing he ever did was get bolted to some wood and slowly die. i highly doubt that the crucifixion looked as sexy as the statue led on. Heroin thin arms outstreched over all of us, twisted seductivly on the cross like an anorexic jean ad, striking a pose for the vultures, leaving youthful porcelin carrion for the maggots.

after this parade of voodoo rituals we all drove up to the Patchouge manor to abuse the open bar and take-all-you-want buffet. i may have had one too many, as the night is something of beverage blended with vomit-drenched car rides home and alcohol fueled spillings of guts. the calimari was good, as was the pasta. the meat was a little too pink for me, like they shredded a cow's vagina and flopped it on the plate.

i spent most of the night nursing vice-gripped heads and stomachs, vomiting up whatever my guts could find. needless to say i took it a bit easy today.

i've put on a few pounds. winter does that to you. i'm starting to look like Benico DelToro in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. it's getting nicer out, so i'm going to go for more walks. i'm also going to try and stop eating the garbage i usually eat and replace them with their Fat Free counterparts. i've never been much for extensive exercise or "proper" diet, nor do i carry much faith in speed pills or anyt other weight loss product, so this may or may not work. we'll see i guess.