Non-violent protesters
beaten
makes me want to beat
the beaters
Riot Police
beating
human beings
protesting
theft of
freedom
FASCISM!
FASCISM!
FASCISM!

O this fucked up Earth
and the
men of power
hording
more than
Genghis,
Caesar,
and the Vatican
ever did.
Wow……..

My country
is
controlled
by
humans
who lust for
positions
of authority
and power,
voted in
and
protected by
the non-thinking
silent majority
that lust for
fleeting
materialisms
and now
in the 21st century
a bunch of
corporate
executives
who already control the world
through their business deals
and hording
of wealth (i.e. freedom; money is freedom)
are now the president
and the vice president
and his appointees…
the non wealthy
are their slaves
struggling
and the comfortable
non-thinking
shrinking
middle class
is too
but they’re
not thinking about that,
they’re just thinking
about the next thing
they’re going to buy.

I’ll smoke a bowl to that.

5/1/2007

God I’m so alone
In the chaos of my heart
without it
I wouldn’t be
this
without it
I’d be more like i’m supposed to be
But now
I’m more than i was meant to be
the rejection of me, fuel
for the fire of my soul
it makes me wanna fucking burn
through the night
illuminating my loneliness
on tragic highways
in lonely bikhu wanderings
through giant cities
writing giant poems
about the largeness of life
and the lostness of souls
wandering around in the
City Lights
oh i long for the lonely nights
far away from here,
in little towns
writing little poems
about how nice life is
when the struggle ends
and the hens coo
in the morning dew
and the rising sun,
I could be there with you,
If you only knew
how much
I love you.

Like Frank Dux vs. Chong Li
I was winning the fight
When you blinded me
I took a beating
I couldn’t see
Then I started screaming
And my other senses
Took control
And guided me
To victory
In this kumite
I fight
Every day
A
No holds barred
Underground tournament
Held in
The dark
Narrow corridors
Of Hong Kong.

Listen to little Vic
“Forget about the girl.
Forget about getting back
At Chong Li for Ray.
You have a chance to take it all tommorow.”

After I win
It will be all that mattered.

The way I fell under
Was the way
I came back
The day after I fell
I left for a midnight snack
Around the country

In the night cold
the heat between us
rose
like steam
from manhole covers
in 2am Mannhattan streets
and i zipped away
to as many downtowns
as i could
walking around towns
i thought i never would
see you in any of them
so i felt like
i was a ghost
a past present and future existant
eyewitnessing
life
as if it were my
own
ferlinghettian
french new wave film
but there is no allusion
to celluloids
in this,
as if to say this world
that i live in were as
a moving picture
every moment
a frame
and
I’m
Sitting
Here
Typing
In a room
With bloodsport
Looping
On dvd
For the last
88 hours
Looping while i sleep
I wake
Bake a bowl of train wreck
And work on my script
I wrote my final scene
Two days ago,
a scene sort of inspired by Bolo Yeung,
and inserted it
towards the end.

I still have it looping right now.

I’d rather watch this movie on loop for eternity
than be subjected to
the retard factory
that is tv.