Skip to main content

Mexican Standoff








Mexican Standoff



I'm often dreaming/
And lost in scheming/
That obnoxiously/
Slaughters these/
Softer scenes and/
All this bleak/
Emotion topples me/
But talk is cheap/
So living tropically/
Was the best medicine/
For an indefenite/
Amount of time, sentencing/
Me to hollow leanings/
Locks and keys sing/
Through the Autumn's breezy/
Air, harshly clinking/
Together, washing, cleaning/
My sorrowful evening/
Constant leaving/
After polishing these/
Admonished three things/
Called years, I'll astonish deeper/
Opportunities/
Pawned off you and me/
Moss on jewelry/
Is caught proving me/
Wrong for cluelessly/
Moving on from choosing these/
Awful prudences/
That stop me brutally/
Stalking stupid things/
Haunting booths and re-/
Minding myself in a hostile usurping/
Of my cautious movements, these/
Topics fooling me/
Are a novice oozing genes/
That rocket newer things/
Up to my pockets, Uber eats/
Of logic, shrooms and E/
Hydroponics, putrid leaves/
Are talking through to me/
Appaled by use of weed/
But the chronic's using me/
Bubbling cauldron's spewing steam/
I'm bumbling, hopping, duped and weak/
Going on psycho rants/
Killing sycophants/
I can laugh/
At the supposed higher classes/
Striking classless/
Vile habits/
That's why I'm clashing/
Striking mad/
At idle hands/
Biting that/
Feeding writhing bast-/
Ard, sliding backwards/
From his icy grasp/
The title track/
Of my life is that/
I'm striking back/
So hide those plans/
To ride slow past/
The dying growth mad/
As the fire glows at/
Five or at/
Least nine gross slaps/
Of varying degrees/
Cherishing beliefs/
That are swearing yet discreet/
The air I cannot seem/
To bear or even breathe/
Carrying the fev-/
Er and staring this defeat/
In it's weariest deceit-/
Ful, evil/
Seeming-/
Ly weeping/
Gaze, scaring it with heat/
Arrogance is brief/
In the lariat I keep/
Life on, parrying the neat/
Compact/
Combat/
Of this variance, a beast/
Flaring it's own feet/
I'm daring it to blink/
Mexican standoff/
Dead and a man caught/
In the depths of the downtrodd-/
En echoes he cant calm/
Down enough to let go and cast off/
Enter the land sought/
By everyone tapped on/
The shoulder/
By the coldest/
Moment/
They've ever known in/
Their lives, destined to pass on/
Revenants slander all/
We know, irreverence, facts not/
Completely right/
But obscenely liked/
Come keep the light/
Company/
While running free/
Only to suddenly/
Lose the pressure that brands gloss-/
Y impudence a treasure to crass fault-/
Less people, a semblance of passed on/
Remnants of passed gods/

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Shameless IG Plug

https://www.instagram.com/p/BjCacWplX6FygVNS5qOdcWnQRGLOPC3DlvI18o0/

We exist in a world where it seems every skill, talent or gift, no matter how esoteric or seemingly inapplicable, can, through the bittersweet, pyrrhic blessing of social media, be monetized, commodified and capitalized upon. I harbor no unrealistic goals, because realism has become hyperreal. I live a simple life, one that appears to have placed me at odds with the world's status quo. Good, fuck them. Take happiness where you can grasp and steal it, whether it's by drinking overpowering, ironically cheap beer with great friends, screaming obscenities at the top of your lungs for the shock value, or doing feats of strength on public benches. In my case, everything is words and handstands. The rest is irrelevant. Forever flawed. Forever rebellious.

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

4 Reasons Why I'll Be A Vagabond In 2 Years

As my parole date looms and I prepare to muster out of the service that's cradled me the entirety of my adult life, I face the future with an uneasy trepidation coupled with my characteristic combative nature.
I've heard every excuse, tempting me with bonuses and transparent promises regarding where I could live next, to tales of woe and agonizing regret, detailing the life of a miscreant that fleed from the Navy, expecting to flourish in the free world, no longer bound by the constraints of military life.
Eager and cherry, they're invariably met with a crippling reality, sprinting head first into a shallow pool of filthy water barely concealing jagged, dangerous rocks and craters.
I'll take my chances as I retake the reins of my life, though, even this far out, I know that my path will hardly be traditional, and will probably offend some traditionally and civically minded elders.
I plan to drift, languid but controlle…

Ill Get Married When I Find A Woman That Can Stand Me

Ill Get Married When I Find A Woman That Can Stand Me


Multiple weddings are looming on the horizon of my social life.
Family by blood and salt water are imploring me to attend their betrothals, and I'm eager to follow.
These occasions are always joyous, representative of the birth of fresh beginnings and requited love.
Unfortunately, questions often bloom like weeds, stubborn and resilient, durable and recalcitrant.
Chief among them is the dreaded, "When do you plan on getting married, Gino?".
I always respond with solid sarcasm, assuring the inquirer that they will recieve an invitation to my theoretical wedding before I turn 50.
This is usually enough to dissuade the prying escapades, but the otherwise serene pond of my mind is still left rippling and torrential.
"When will I get married?", I hound myself, wondering aloud and musing self-indulgently.
The honest truth is that I could go my entire life without shacking up.
Though I've been told my ad…