I

what?


this dunkin donuts has no drive thru?
then things have indeed gone poorly here


i hate the morning cig
it tastes like im in high school,
7 o clock am

gravel and sand looks greasy,
i always like to hang my hand
out the window

its not a very cool time here

its early summer morning rage,
it wells up like steaming oils,
its august toes should be licked

morning like a shitty creamsicle
spittle on the leaves of plants
from those nasty bugs
or maybe thats because

i just spit on them

fuck that question


'im not a philosophy student
just a guy with a weird boner


or sometimes just a flacid guy'

the song of morning irritation
where the cream rays of the sun
itch me like a bathing suit with a liner

theres gotta be a place

where i can lay it down
with a gun and a big dog
and spend those long ones


thinking of heroes

with the car in P

who are your heroes?
we should think about that more often
theyre free for the picking now


i can turn myself inside out
without spilling a drop,

call that heroism

i never trust the insides,
when i finally figure it out,

ill be dangling,

and the strands will be

orange and yellow

in the morning