There’s nothing wrong with sharing


Work hard rock harder
Cookie dust
TV on the sidewalk
The right monster
For the job

Chirping for dollars
Another pair of shoes

Another hook in the ocean
Money for school
leaves On steps
The weirdos that
Walks everywhere
Revenge of the Olds

Circulate and destroy
Just try to stop

And then it’s gone
In an instant
It is a look
A half second on the dance floor
A flip of the hair

Flip of the hair
Flip the hair
Freeze
Zoom in
Sharpen
Choose a filter
Now Share

There’s nothing wrong with sharing
The kids know that

There’s nothing wrong
With it taking over
Until
there is

Guns are the toys of
Eternal children

We speak and listen
We turn and turn and turn
Happily making wind

Repackaging and Uncovering

image
You listen to as many
Songs in the world as you can.

Painting by flower
And flame thrower
War over cartoons
And collected advice columns

We don’t like the same things
We prepare for battle with television
We train with meat

We make up meaningless
words like enemy
And freedom

We reward ourselves insane
for picking the Most cotton

We mix gin with the roots
Of our rocking chair

We slice pie with the blood
Of lost pets and
Killer whales
Forever in search of
The philosopher’s stone

Leasing a sea of tax revenues
And clothes hangers

Harvesting eyes
For the winter
Vacationing off the coast
Of a set of headphones

Governed by alchemists
And magicians

Turning the crank
Feeding pigeons
Voting for dollars

Washed play sand

Repackaging and
Uncovering

Fans
Sisters and brothers
Subjects
We are all in this
Seventy percent

Mystery
Together

The sound of flowers shrinking

image
Popsicle poetry
I have no stomach
For a scorched earth policy

Letting the air out.
Texting in bed

Skating party limbo
The next day and the next

The emptiness never
Bothered me.

A feeling of something
Is pushing

Calf pain
A throwing up of hands
A conversation with myself
What I mean

Perhaps it’s time
to take down
The Christmas lights

Shift
Control

Speaking in code
The sound of flowers shrinking
These squirrels are fearless
Long walks

Lazy poets

Okay to be broken


Okay to be broken
Okay to disconnect
Okay to be a fan

Nomads are much more
Likely to resort to cannibalism

Eating bugs
Eating rats
Eating guts

Gunpowder
And seminal fluids
Political
smoothies

The Mongols of peacetime
Shooting for dollars

A marriage of self defense
We’ve never seen anything

Like

this

Rhesus pieces
There’s no place like home

It is everywhere.

Love is a battle field And then it’s a Pop song


Dreaming of past lovers
Farting in bed
I am finally warm

It never ends
Never goes away
always comes back

The welcome flags
Blow in the wind
Every one tells a story
The colors lie a little
Money from tourists
Frozen pigeon shit
A vacation with no Adventure

Google my love
The boys all call her Alaska
But I call her Florida

Evil can teach you things
Love is a battle field
And then it’s a Pop song

Most of us die slowly


Most of us die slowly
We swim without a net
Until the paperwork gets us

realize you’re screaming

Stoping advicing

The year of the tree
has come and gone

The sickest thing
Hiding behind words
There is no childhood
In them
Soft anger is hard to print
Hard to read
Words are lazy
Like porn
We make words
difficult Like love

Primitive defense mechanisms

The birds that stay
all winter long
They know their place
They argue well

I’ve been seeing things Out of the corner of my eye


I’ve been seeing things
Out of the corner of my eye

when I look it’s gone
When I focus it’s not there

A lazy soul

So many cops
So many churches
So many t-shirts
So much pasta

Constantly rehearsing
Acceptance speeches

Launching arrows
a sea of bees

Genghis Khan clouds
The indirect approach

An army of donuts
Lead by a lion

The brass ring
Is in your nose

A dry erase board
A bag of records

Working with friends
Is such a good idea

The burning cold

Touching it doesn’t  Give you power… Saturday / January 10, 2015 #SchwervonPoetry

Taking a day off today. Two Schwervon! shows in two days. Here’s yesterdays second consecutive show poem.

Schwervon!


Eyes on the wall
Shooting your mouth

Touching it doesn’t
Give you power
It feeds the fear

I know you want to touch it
But It messes up the painting
For everyone else

It took me years
To imagine myself as cool
Without a cigarette

Walking the stairs
Tasting the gun
Don’t worry
Forgetting the perfect lines
Are just  steps in the right direction

The movies aren’t Even close

The entertainment
Inside the thunderdome
Has a rating scale
All it’s own

Also
Stop caring about all the lying
Everybody lies
They’re like leaves

It’s more important to not eat donuts

Truth or Dare is a game you
Play in Middle school

Propaganda
Is not boot camp for adulthood

Fucking well is only fifteen percent
of your happiness

Most of us live in blankets and sheets
On a cold day
We mistake them our wings

Sometimes
So cold, we can almost…

View original post 51 more words

A brunch for Armageddon… Friday / January 10, 2015 #SchwervonPoetry

Yesterday’s Poem

Schwervon!

Untitled photo by Jason Buice

We have done a great
Disservice to ourselves

We have listened to
our parents

studied the moves
In great detail

Conditioned our condition

We have punctured tires
Arranged our supplies
Plated our red wheel barrows

We smeared
The colors
Like soft cheese

Sweaters for the macaroni
Forks in our eyes
Anger feeding gallons and gallons

A little confession
Can go such a long way

Living cliches
Ignoring sashays

Making use of these
Cracked shells
Let’s mix our yolks
A brunch for Armageddon
Ketchup bleeding heart.
Gay Boy Scouts
Grandmothers in drag
Family dinners together

A future to believe in.
We can make it happen
Very easily sometimes
Poof, celebrate
Repeat

(This poem was originally recited on January 9, 2015 at Mills Record Company in Kansas City, MO)

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I am Charlie


Bending iron bars
With our heated vision

Acts of collective indiscipline
I am Charlie

Feverishly tapping thumbs
On small pieces
Of freezing glass

Smelling old people
Listening to children

Paying our fair share
Asking for what we need

Waking up
Sleeping

It’s easier just to fight
Sometimes

To take it all out

A Good book
Parents
A magic bullet
Kool-aid

A freezing walk alone
In the park

Heated car seat
Manifesto

Tools are just tools
Until they are their
Opposites

They are not free
are not love

We are