I Am The Roachman

SINK

Dust Monkey

MAGIC TRICK

Tentacling

Mortifying

One step forward, 
That's a nail through the floorboards. 
The sole run through
Plunged deep; 
That's a thought-form. 

That's not me, 
Got him store bought.
Free sample sold it for me.
I was eatin-chalk-bored, 
White when I pushed against the limits of the script.
I was spittin' ash, seein' visions of a crypt. 
I was spillin' cash, 
Couldn't give a single shit, 
When the fuck I act's always when the missiles hit. 
Yo, anything I lack, 
Didn't need it in the first place. 
Relate. 
Yeah. 
Still do. 
Shruggin' off the mildew. 
Confused?
First dates. 
Barely been a worse place. 
Distaste. 

I been dirt. 
Baby, now my skin burns. 
Discern?
I'll just die, 
Couldn't give a fuck why, 
Disguise.

Big words 
Never really meant, 
It's a loop. 
Feedback.  
Echoes of an idea. 
It's clear

The knots twist. 
Tell em bro, I got this. 
The piss?

I just took. 

Look. 

It's a gas, 
And just that. 
Struggle under boots, 
My caboose. 

The bones ache. 
Goin' for a walk, 
Might come back. 

Might take flight! 
Migratory vibes on the wire,
The spark shot. 
Michael Jordan highs 'fore the drop.
The plug's gone. 
Wrong. 

It's right there. 
The drain's too big,
The sides bare. 
Swirl like a Junji Ito joint, 
With no point. 
I go boing~
And bounce off,
As gray as how the clouds got. 

That's a lot! 

Filtered through the vision of a dog
Or Hitchcock with no plot, 
Thoughts cut by the crop 
The screen square, 
Yeah I been there.

I been birds peckin' out the eyes on me. 
For the life of me I could never die properly.

CROP

Curvature

Red Lily Can't Bloom

Somethin Good

Feathered

APOPTOSIS

First off; 
Instilled in me the pattern of a cursed one. 
That free will? 
Nothing but the wishes of a jerk off. 

I see still that green moon recede behind the first sun, 
I keep still. 
The journey has been nonlinear, 
And hurt some. 

Gerbil in a gilded cage. 
Fertile thoughts reveal its rage. 

This lifestyle;
That winding road, 
Her love and my design in code. 

I want for what is lost, 
An urge that draws upon the cost. 
A curtain closed around me. 

As I found the end had started wrong. 
I am the child and the result. 
I am the mind become the skull, 
I am the flesh that cradles bones, 
The bones and what amounts to voltage. 

I'm so sick, 
My soul licks the flame, 
Walks beside me, 
The smoke sticks to symbols of a poison ivy trail. 

As the boy inside me fails,
To conjoin almighty 

I enjoy the nineties. 
Final thoughts are void of psyche. 

Praise what joy can find me. 
Writin' up the poise that rightly 
Holds my head higher
Dead to rights I take this voyage shyly. 
Make flowers bloom or die, 
A hard truth in this state of mind. 

I am not of healthy mind, 
No matter what you tell me, 
What I tell myself, 
I fell behind 
Was captured by the felt tip, 

Leads my body to its meltin' eyes, 
I match what I am selling now. 
Captured in this hellish time, 
My character in belts is bound. 
Holy shit, 
Crows and folk open my brainwaves and get numb. 
Close it likity-split. 
Quick. 

Put on airs, 
Puff my voice up and quote Lynch films. 
I hope the pinch will, 
Awake me from my waking sit-still. 
Gets killed, 
Or dies young from growth of foreign bodies in this foreign body, 
God is in the 
Paparazzi 

Parties for the death of thought. 
I'm grateful that the sense was worn
The threads were tattered graciously, 
I'll make it through this mental storm. 

What precious force still left to think is spent on chores. 
I let it coalesce until I've said it all. 

This pencil porn. 
The stress I've drawn from questions that request a pause. 
A sensible attempt at more. 

 Make flowers bloom or die, 
A hard truth in this state of mind.

2 Q 1 7

Make Flowers Bloom

A Response

In the midst of a snare. 
In the rumble of bass, 
Bashin' the blood in our veins, 
Snappin' the bones into place,
Trackin' the tone to a plain,
Wide as eyes on wired lights. 
Two can play pieces. 
Only I am whole. 
More a game. 
More's the shame, 
I could melt with you. 
The vibrations high, 
I have felt with you, 
In my island mind. 
Turn and twist the knife, 
Didn't I die? 
Was it a dream?
A picture in time, 
Spit on my teeth. 
Visuals nice, 
Make me believe in something, 
Shoulda brought a speaker and spine. 
I have deleted nothing.
Chronicles critical and specific. 
Pressin' blood to the needle, 
Didn't make me a difference. 
Churning, 
Cheeks in bad shape, 
Chewin' my mouth out. 
Weeks of bad days
Doin' the lads proud. 
Freaks in black capes. 
Bluer than black clouds. 
People with bad brains. 
Wait for the swing of a sad blade, 
Bring your neck to a crossroad. 
I lack trace of perception, 
Do not know. 
With my wings I flew to the grotto.
Everything stupid little thing I'm not interested in. 
Every word that is put to paper,
I'm fillin' it in. 
Every push to a shove, 
What makes an instrument sing. 
Every crash of a tidal wave, 
Yeah I'm linkin' it in. 
Every friendship that goes to shit yeah I'm drinkin' it in. 
Amor Fati. 
I'm a dark thought imparting wisdom. 
I'm the far-walkin' march of fiction. 
When I start talkin' pastors listen.
Part poor and part patrician. 
Quartered and drawn for the spectacle. 
Put into bags, labeled as sort of inedible. 
Thrown in the trash, 
Rotting a hole in the Earth. 
The goal's to be worse than those with control over birds,
Lest they get control of you, 
It can only reverse. 
Yeah they owe me a verse. 
They owe me an explanation, 
I'm copin', it hurts, 
But yeah, 
I can cope with the burn. 
For the people that can't, 
Yeah man I'm hopin' it turns. 
Creepin' through the creek with my throat full of worms. 
Speakin' what I speak with a throat full of worms.
Leave a message in a bottle and throw it to sea. 
For the God that receives, 
I hope it knows that it's me. 
Sink into the sand, 
And erode over years. 
Here be the bones and the tears 
Absorbed into stone, 
Is it clear? 
Clarity. 
The colours have seeped into my reality. 
I'm brushin' the crux of a moment. 
I'm sinkin' in quick sand quick sand. 
Quick man, big plans, 
Didn't pan out, 
Nah didn't stand out, 
Nah, 
Nix that 
Fix that. 
Hit that kick gotta get a man south, gotta sell a man doubts, 
Yeah big man, big man, out.

Passion

Arbiter Ft. Andrew Wilson

Bath

Can't Sleep If I Don't Dream

Go South

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