Last night was crap and I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. Too many memories. When I got home I was exhausted but found my roommate and his band rehearsing in the living room. I sat cross-legged on the table and listened while having a couple million drinks. It was probably one of the best things you could walk into...besides a porn convention, of course.

Yes...

Scrabble belongs in your bar.

So, shut it.

The Spaces Available In My Heart Are More Important Than My MySpace...

I'm packing on new days like a fine layer of moth wing dust.
Please treat me gently.
I may seem ugly.
But.
Regardless.
I might be beautiful in your hands?
Maybe a delicacy to some in other parts of the world.
Or a pest.
I can fly when I want to.
I can bite you when you sleep.
You can easily squash me, smoosh me or preserve me in a jar.

I'm attracted to your glow, though.

Be gentle, fucker.

Leaves Of house...

Get up, get up
says your trainer

I feel tired
you say
please
just let me
lay down

Oh, no, no, no, you big pussy
you're much stronger than that
why do you think you're here
in the first place?

Because I never knew what else to do?

Exactly, asshole
now let me stop that bleeding
keep your guard up
and punch, jab, punch, jab

He must be tired
you say
please
just let him
lay down

That's it, that's it
says your trainer

Each Day...

Each day is like a unique fingerprint, a strand of DNA, a snowflake.

Each night has been a "day"mare, a slow trudge through sucking muck, a lance splintered into the soft flesh and steel of charging calvary.

Today and all the days before this one have been tough and far too easy to bend and shape to my dreams if maybe I wasn't so whimsical and soft.

I have an atrophied heart stricken with bouts of emotional Tourettes Syndrome and a will made of petrified Silly Putty.

I am me, just like before. Stronger and weaker - for better or for worse.

I don't miss myself or miss my missed opportunities.

I just want more hits as I'm swinging and a lot less misses, Missus.

Love and kisses.

Yes, This Site Is Boring.

I know this.

But, at least it's FREE boredom.

As Far As This Last Year Goes...

I want this next one to be totally Boo Radley as opposed to this years horrific Liberace naked jumping into a pool.

The Horror...

Christmas sweaters...EVERYWHERE!!!

Egg...

Everything that I wished for before I now have
and everything I now have is nothing compared to what I had.

Alto...

I collect brilliant scraps of life
like you do tickets

I'll start writing my shit down when
you learn how to FUCKING drive

Truth...

Having a hole in your sock
sounds much better than
having a sock in your hole.

Christmas Craptacular...

Downloading songs for my work's iPod. I'm in hell. Bing Crosby helps, though. Sammy Davis Jr. does not. I want to shoot him in his glass eye.

Items I'm Watching...

I wish the rest of my life was as perfect as my eBay feedback score.

Fat Free Milk Friends...

Awww...man. I'm really touched but no, my house didn't burn down. I rent anyway. It's true that all of my crap is gone but that's only because my ex-girlfriend has it all.

Crap. I feel bad. I'm fine. Kind of. Same old me. Thanks, guys!

Oh, What A Tangled Web...

Fire's out but I can still smell the smoke. It permeates the air, my clothes will need to be washed and I'll need someone to look at these burns. My house is gone. Smoldering ruins. My pets are nowhere to be found. I'll miss them dearly. All of my possessions, the comic books, my passport, TV and computers are blackened husks. Not so important I guess, but all of that will be hard to replace.

Today's my first day of starting from scratch and so far...

This poem is all I own.

Robinson Crusoe Meets Jack The Ripper...

Haven't been writing on this old friend, here, Fat Free Milk, because of big life changes and a lack of a computer. Revisiting a lot of the ol' pen and paper Deus Ex Machina. Maybe I'll end up getting more done. We'll see...

Malaysian Emperor Cicadas...

Each bruise on my body tells a story.

I Am A tiny Man...

Very small.

"You Get So Alone at Times It Just Makes Sense"

Bukowski knew.

And I think that I'm just beginning to get it.

Kyle Was Right...

Fish and chips at the old pub was a lot better than eating with the blue-haired ladies at Carrows. True, true.

So Sweet...

You save our honey bees and I'll spend my time building natural sized cells, and virtually eliminating my Varroa and Tracheal mite problems.

He who tries to forget a woman, never loved her...

Which one are you?

The one I miss now?

Or the one I loved before?

Ear Noises...

Choosing not to write is sometimes the best way to express your feelings.

Hey Kid...

One day you'll grow up.

One day you'll have an important moment of clarity that spirals through your brain and explodes outward through your heart.

The newly-found, diamond-like focus that suddenly envelops your eyes will cause them to well up with tears because what you've just learned is so, so beautiful...

You grew up...

You finally get it.

And now you're too old to do anything about, kid.

Yom Thorke....