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crushed skull drunken martyrs of the self
with dts spit yellow phlegm at
black-stained garbage cans
dxm scorched brain addicts fry organs in
coffee cans under blue-lit blow-torches
addicts blowing steam over their torn-apart
faces and torsos
carving up arms with box cutters in the post-
relief early morning pain
crushed watches of lost-time psychotics
rant and rave in streets flagged down
by car horns and flinging garbage and self
at piss and filth-covered walls and traffic
scorched-over brain-cell-faded heroin addicts
corkscrew-spined mangled ecstasy partiers in their
hideous glowering sexualities sucking the
jaundiced milk from cigarette-burned sluts
and the brain cells are torched and evaporate
like so many dreams and lives
and they continue their dirge
stumbling up and down the streets
and sleeping in the dumpsters
trying to explain the disenfranchised
spitting semen through their nostrils
the terrible deafening roar continues through the
streets and brains of its denizens
omitting sanity in favor
of seizures
and delusions of other lives and scenarios
like the ones they pictured as kids
souls go up in flame
lives go up in flame
brain cells fry on the pavement
like yesterday's roadkill
walking husks devoid of life
missing sanity, soul and mind
teetering under the weight of death
stumble into blackened nights
insane
and stumbling forward
into lost skies
laughter tears out of skies
bleeds out of cracks in the street
the wrinkles in old women's faces
the needle marks in junkies' arms
laughing at those
who piss blood day to day
from the slits in their eyes
filth that doesn't stop, that seeps so deep
beneath the skin, it stains the soul
and causes brain cells to boil
screaming, shrieking maniacs
tearing at their skin and walls
drawing blood from both
and condemning themselves to concrete tombs
in state prisons and jails
where they get to stare god's reflection in the eye
under fluorescent lights
the laughter comes out of exhaust pipes, chimneys,
industrial disposals and and piss-kicking young punks' mouths
like so many cocks, in and out of the imagination
laughing at the suffering, those who piss and vomit blood
those who live on a daily dosage of sheer agony
only to be released again on a probation of
scorched brain cells and methamphetamine scars
the laughter rages like a polluted river of acid
and we have all become the child that swims in the lake of blood
the laughter
from wounds that won't heal, that bleed until death
like crying late aborted fetuses that never shut the fuck up even
ten years afterward in the mother's skull
and the wretched child, stumbling in the abuser's wrath
I can't move a muscle
and I can hear a short, numb silence
before the laughter starts up again
the north american laugh track for the battered soul
and decrepit living corpse
will never stop
as long as steel rushes along highways
and voices chatter in schizophrenic brains
smoke bellows from a rancid, cracked black sky
night clouds evaporate in stretching beams of sunlight
and the pale green moon fades in the sky
like memories of the dead
the sky cracks open
and the sun shines through onto
drunks, spitting black spit wads onto scum filled sidewalks
eroded garbage and filth stomped beneath the feet
of dyspeptic citizens
their faces gnarled in twists of disgust, regret, loss
and a daily dosage of death and pain
eyes flickering in the white hot beams
electric white with suffering at having even woken up, again
the sky breaks open like a frozen bottle on the pavement and sunlight spills
out illuminating desperate ill-used women and wights
stumbling through the streets, down hallways, into battered drug houses
back to abusive spouses, drug habits, memories of rapes
losses of life, sparks of death and one final
shriek for one last ink-black smear over life
the sun shines on rotted teeth, decayed flesh
scars on jaundiced skin
broken bones, chalk outlines
cat sized rats gnawing on murder victims
men cleaning guts and blood off the pavement
while men piss on walls
prostitutes shrieking through the streets, panting
wide-legged, beat up, hopeless and haggard
darting in and out of doorways
and fading in and out of the last depleting shadows
the silhouette of a small girl wearing a white
blood-soaked dress dancing lost in the streets
amongst the dying plagues
cuts her flesh with razorblades
and spills blood into the concrete
she is the spirit of defeat, of surrender, abandon, and resignation
and as eyes gaze at her fading visage
they stop caring
and fade into the disease
kurtice6@hotmail.com
he'd love some feedback
he's a very lonely man