$50.00 Poem - 2 mpegs - 10 lanes of explosions - 20 blocks down broadway - Anything but snails - Because of Ben - Before my girlfriend - The Bastard Son of California - Blood, white and blue - catskull balcony - Civic Lessons in WINCity - damned awareness - Dead rock babies - Delicate hat girl - Easter Sunday - the end of the Internet - Every day except weekends and holidays - The fall of America will take place inside an am pm - fucking loved ones - girls girls girls - I Am Not A Political Poet - I Grew Older - incapable of a coffeestain - July 4 - La Jolla I & II - Lad - Lines composed 35,000 feet over Wichita, Kansas concerning unimportance of a crafted scapegoat on March 26, 2001 - Miller and Mayhew - MPL - My friends - My girlfriend's bed - no rest for the wicked - nothingness - the obligatory low - On giant chickens - On the corner of Rosecrans and Midway - Out Here - People who stalk - Perhaps it's television? - A Poem Not Called I Want - progression - Sunday Siempre - then - turns to sex - worker>machine>product - wrote counting the hours - wrote in American lit - wrote on my resume - variable the outcome - zeitgeist

People who stalk 2003

Those people who stalk outside my window are so very frightening. They with their strange styles and loud vocalizations. Their billions of cells moving and migrating and powering such a dangerous weapon as their minds. Who knows what insecurities within these magnificent organisms’ twisted psychologies will prompt them to tear some person to shreds. The news, like an automated superego, reports of families torn apart by incest and aggression. The children of which are thrust in the world with an attitude of “do or die.” Weakness is for the passive and too often we fall back on the instincts of the savages that live within our minds. The archaic cavemen driven mad by the events unfolding before their very eyes. Chinese water torture has nothing on this shit.