No...I'm Mac #1

A: I like, totally almost fell into a manhole the other day.
B: ...no shit!

Lines on Life Online

There's just too much noise.
Look through the wwwindow into humanity's soul.
I don't know nothing no more.
I am not responsible--
I have Wikipedia to misinform me,
Google to confirm my every stupid hunch,
And Facebook to make me feel exceedingly boring
And ugly and lonely.
But I have Hotornot to cheer me up-"Not!",
Twitter to drown out my voice,
And Linkedin to belittle my accomplishments.
I have democratic porn to castrate me,
And blogs, blogs, blogs, Jesus, blogs.

Drop By

Hold that thought.

A drop, a drop of alcohol mistaken
To quench the flames rising up inside
My chest, have sped up instead
My thirst, to walk across the room to
Find out your name and fumble mine in
Your eyes...are so beautiful.

So
Help down me shots each barmaid,
Of your no-nonsense whiskey,
Scratchy tequila and anesthetic vodka.
Do these things really happen?

In this jungle world have I breathed

in, the

freshness of a sun-kissed clearing?

I needed just a drop of courage to admit
That when our gazes finally met,
You are so sophisticated,
It was a summons and a bet that
We could be people whose selfnesses we'd
Like to learn and whose flaws we'd
Accept in just a matter of time.

Rhesus, rhesus.
Rhesus, rhesus, jump.
This rhesus is ready to be intubated and
Gelled and shaved bikini-skin-close
By her manicured fingers that now grasp
A martini sparkling blue in
This crepuscular bar.

With temerity I approach while
With alacrity flee my innards tell me.
Am I walking funny?
I blame homo evolution for irrational fear
And rational drive to discover your heat
And wrinkles of youth and missed hairs--
Dare I be such an animal!
Let's ruin each other.
Oh how I want to be built by you,
If you would only drop by my mind
And touch my body drop into your drop.
Drop it.
Hi...

Feature Keep Creature

With the present never so thin,

And history always fattening,

Each instant sensed already to be a lost moment,

A sensation to be already a memory’s scent,

Remembering to forget at each juncture,

Building to destroy his every structure,

Our hopelessly time-bound creature

Binds every hope to a staying Feature--

So his ears can lose the ticking-tocks

And his hands defeat the winning clocks.

Armed with the terminal speed of life's fatal slope,

He is still, endlessly impregnated with natal hope.

Chaplin

That old chap Chaplin

The Chinese want for president,

Chopped a checkered checkmate

With churlish, cheeky guile.

Swam as open fish-bait--

Silly, loose, bile.

That old chap Chaplin

The Chinese rightly chose,

Stuck a sticky slogan

With a silent, sleepy sigh.

Carried a frozen program--

Melting, rain, high.

That old chap Chaplin

The Chinese much adore

Hacked a hackneyed story

With ham-handed hush

Struck a tender worry--

Cringe, face, flush.

Bent

Haunting my walking dreams,

A figure bent by time, regretful by bent.

Around each decision's bend,

A glimpse of his ugly head,

Turning ever so slightly,

Mouthing wordless apologies.

Horror in the distance,

Final shame of my existence,

Morning's sun makes you ever so clear,

Your toothless snarl fans my fear.

You took the wrong turn

When you came to the bend.

The path has been forgotten,

It's weeds overgrown.

Dirty boots have trodden,

Where seeds were once sown.

No return to the yellow wood,

Your back will break and not bend.

In your wrinkles I read a story,

A tale dry and cautious.

When my hour of trial comes,

Guide me away with a bony bent finger.

In my mind your advice will linger--

I never want to meet you.

Being to Do to Be

To be what I will be, I must be here now

To do what I must do that I can one day say I did.

One day I did say that one day, I would do what I must one day do,

To be what I will be.

So one day I must do what I must do

To be what I will be one day, and that day say I did do what I one day said I must do

To be what I will be.

One day do be that I may do what I must do

To be, that I will be.