Shut the door. Have a seat.

Total sorority move
Total fraternity move
You tend to move with the groove
I choose not to move
Sitting still I see mistakes
That people make and I replicate
In my reptile brain I savor the fault
Knowing that faulting means growing
And growing is the scaffolding for better qualities
So drink out of compulsion
Congregate, fulfill your functions
You beam where you stand
I smile back from my hole
We can both be happy in our proper places

Beardless boys

I'm an anglo saxon chameleon
the feeling I get from blending in
is mild dissatisfaction that I misplaced my heritage

Shall I say

I'd like to say I keep my experiences positive
but sometimes all that's on my mind is the consequence
of things I did last night and in the morning as a response to it
With two butts left, I'm in my death bed - restless
Piecing together events and all the quips I last said
When I was at my wit's end and pushing on fumes exhausted
I understand finally my purpose is to perpetrate sin
Propagate sin, and and by all means, keep to the encouraging
Of little minds turning to mush, drowning in gin
And whole moths dusting up your eyelids
Barely sober anymore, you're my most successful project
My blooming prospect, the culmination of my investment
So keep testing, keep pushing the boundaries I placed you in
Until the day you become the greatest thing I'll wish was dead

The Third Chimpanzee

Bottle of sperm on my desk with the rest of my soul's contents
fish oil supplements and a pack of cigarettes on my arm-rest
my interests have shrunk into fiending off distress
The depressed set of topics that I'm talking about consist
of the times that I went from abreast all the best and tumbled
so quick that I was blinded by my descent
and made indecent attempts to reason my actions to those
asking questions, passing judgments like fractions, dividing my
intent and devising new concepts to absolve my mis-steps
to insist on fairness, correctness, and access
to all the secretive bits of my head's rusted thought pits
You thought all was well when the sunshine was extent
and beating broad rays of orange scream on your eyelids
Only to find the night was just as passionate and reminiscent
of the moments you couldn't reason to prolong this
foolish mockery of glib jokes and blitheness
on life, love, and strife - prattle on till the sun hits
When the fields top in crisp slits of rural radiance
and smell redolent of fresh death, I cough a
hail mary to the night and collapse under the branch
where my will is etched