THE TV WORKED AFTER I WROTE THIS POEM!!!!!!!!!!!!1

on and on and off again and
off and on and off at the wall
this is stressful, vessels holding calming
water drank i drunk i drink it all and
plugged my tv back into the wall and
turned it off and on and off and thought
Why isn’t this working!!!!!!

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talking to myself, but talking to myself ‘cool’

outta practice/in heat
this fleeting visit , where i
briefly touch on points we’ve seen
outlining key areas/
post-it notes with scrawlings
highlight flaws/critique grimacing, and
if i could segway into my final point(s)
surrounded by empty water bottles but
not a drop to drink but for enough to stop
my choke on toast in hope the bloat is brief

slicing my name in torsos
fame cementation through laceration
survivors strive for defamation
of a shape shifting name changing
clever clever boy

never seen meals like these never
heard or seen or thought to say
i thought you knew but i gave you too
much credit, and i’m sorry i’m stern
but sometimes helpful hurts
i digress

again my final point but for
a final pause to think to form
a paper publication.
deploring lack of action and of..
leaving marks that last on the world
and at half past 3 in the morning with
half arsed bars n segway wheels en masse
going opposite directions with enough momentum
making dustbowl tornados taking roofs off houses
scalping homes and killing people
a hypnotising birds-eye view
a potentially lethal peephole

“don’t go there, it’s windy there”
i’m gonna make a zine

v briefly indoctrinated

knuckling down buckle up
full throttle hubble space
scoping distant nebulae
despondent hope in vain to see
/to interact with aliens
subject of some day dreams
craned necks/glazed eyes
signed the cult charter at light speed
n i’m a newly branded acolyte
i’m letting blood at will
/initiation, tests of courage and of mettle
threats of death/risk of betrayal,
these trials

hopping floating stones evading swinging blades n
ducking flying stones n thinking what
does this have to do with alien cults?

just a lil summin-summin about mucus essentially

reach about vine swingin
far reachin for vast sources
horses held for fear o stampede
n the dust settles n the light shines through
/hits dust in rays/highlight of the day so far
make a wish or wave the dust away
clear your throat, assertive
a telling clear n slightly wet n
mostly vocal while they hear that struggle
mostly viscous mucus clogging
squatting breeding blocking the way,
compromising the authentic voice
the essential throat clear

and how

these is what works for me n
these is what gives me but
i needs more mediums n skills to express what
can come through, what would’ve been
brought out, about by energy/momentum
brought about by the presence of others who bring out
the best in me but i don’t wana be reliant, i
wanna bring out my best all by myself

something of a manifesto

all i need’s a hit! t’be back n on track
a chin soaring, face gleaming/beaming, chest swelling
tear jerker, thought provoker
poking round and testing waters
finding flows for me this year n
tryin not to second guess n
lettin loose n
bein loose n
yearnin not to lose my touch
with what i say i hold so dear, so
i put my words where my mouth is..
n proclaim that this is my space
my stomping ground where i say and scream and flail n writhe
as i please/at my discretion/in all directions and
i wish on, wistfully. casting pebbles for luck n
hurling deadly stones alike n
loving sincerely, unconditionally & authentically.
and setting fires to tell stories by n
laying claim to this tiny corner/patch of space, connected.
i’m a google result, but my network doesn’t know cos
i’m afraid of a sea of the whats and the who’s,
the thoughts and the critics, the cynics too
the sprawling, imagined expanse of liquid critique,
n the hatch opens/drenches/drowns
every word i’ve ever said, washed away before me
while conjured judging lenses deconstruct my stories.
so i sit and neglect what could be a talent or a calling or
at least something that heals me
(and it does so every time) and it will always be,
perpetually OK to need affirmation of the self
and to attain aforementioned through self expression
and authenticity, remains key
for me at least

“VIOLENZ” (1) EPISODE CRUEL

frogspawn/cream or
vegan cheese, it’s mostly about the texture
or when i slap it on your lap and rub it into your trousers
furiously. i wanna stain your shoes
i wanna blame it on you but when we point the finger
3 fingers point back at us while a thumb lies idle
but it’s a price i’m willing to pay because them fingers is wi’ me

i wanna squirt ketchup on your new fucking shoes n
laugh and smell ’em later, and watch as gathered dust has stuck
and settled on your wretched stains
i hate those shoes, i’m gona burn your arms

i’m gonna do my business at the hob. i’m gonna
pierce the packaging with a fork a few too many times bcause
it feels and sounds rewarding/empowering
it’s controlled cruelty

i wanna get fed on by carrion birds, wanna
circle my prey, feed my young, wanna spring forth
n out towards/claws poised, gonna puncture,
rip, gut prey

i’m slashing tents/i’m raining, flailing/thinking;
i see nun-chucks get spun n shown off way more than
actual nun-chuck bludgeonings
multiple hits into a nun-chuck submission
a throttle lock-down, get span round/slammed down
maybe slapped about
manhandled‘ quiet now