When everything feels bad,

nothing can really stop it from getting worse

and worse

and even worse.

There is no ethics

There is no morality

There is no measure

There is no boundaries

when we talk about misery.

SIZING

We perfectly fit, when nothing else does

When everything fits, we don't

TIMING EXERCISE I

at the same time tomorrow

i will be thousands of miles away

by still being slightly the same man

with a bit of a jet lag

the same time tomorrow

will not be the same time, as i will be

in the other half of the earth

according to a map i learnt to follow

but nobody said is correct.

at that same time tomorrow,

what time will it be?

POSITION EXERCISE I

you railway dog

black lipstick kisser

you rotten flower

bending inside the vase

desperately seeking charms

the water can only do harm

split the veins in two

from the right rises gold

from the left rises water

now change your position

to north

what rises where?

HOSPITAL SATURDAZE

Starting with a deep breath

i still owe to myself

and a knife that never found its place

between the bones of my chest

we both shared a vision today, separately

of motherly lapses and brotherly loves

and we stared at the windows and aisles

of the hospital saying

there's more people waiting

cause, there's more people dying.

Our alphabet skills and grammar couldn't help

but, make knowledge our privilege on

how to give up and make some tea

We'd rather be drinking coffee tonight somewhere far away

from the doctors and the vending machines

somewhere between the cold grass and the

banned pictures of boys kissing bosses

car crash lovers bitting shoulders

but, i know you can't sleep after you have some coffee

so, i'll just settle for that.

TOM FORD'S BLACK ORCHID

I took some time and remembered tonight

not everything, but, just

the simple things

that i can't explain.

We always meet in eerie silence.

I always forget the facts

I never forget perfumes.

We met between Ana Karina's illusions

and Pessoa's house,

right where nowhere crosses

dreaming of nowhere.

Remember i never write love poems.

I haven't told our story for a while now

but, i remember you because

you make me proud to believe that

i know everything

when i acquire nothing.

Once, you claimed i stole your whole personality.

I told you:

"I only steal from the best."

Descending into the void of the everyday

with a new identity

i'm not myself

i'm the greatest expense the I has made

now that our pockets are empty

we'll finally find out

what we are

willing

to share

THE BUREAUCRACY OF SEX

MANIFEST

Dreaming of love
in this union of egoists
is like sending a letter to god,
he will never write back.

COFFEE WITH THE DEVIL

The Devil knocked on our door for sugar
yesterday
and i offered
nothing more than
a smile.

The Devil should drink his coffee black
and must eat no candy.
That's how he wonders in my dreams,
he comes from time to time.

I don't like the fact that he makes his presence
so visible to me, but,

i guess it's just his idiosyncracy.

The Devil knocked on our door today
and i was at bed again
so, i left him waiting
till the World's End.

DROPPING OUT THE CITIES OF NO MORE

Just give me another kick
unlike the one i used to wear as a cloth
give me a flag and a soul
a name with no shame and no ancestors
give me a history with no mystery
give me weeks open for everybody to visit
not only on Sundays between
3-4 in the evening.

It feels so cold inside the deserts of my soul.
Spare me a song and a filter for the mouth
a pare of boots, laced and bruised
like the bodies of the witches
anxiously hunting action.
I got to meet every boy that
fell at your feet.

Keep me clean in all my stains
and let me loose.
Always keep for me an excuse
and a wish for i'll live forever
through the winters
and keep in mind to feel.
I only steal to stay real.

NEW SHAME

New shame arrived today

in the family

a boy that never learnt

how to walk on steady feet

and wash his hands

from failure

is lifting the weights of fate

like another

television superhero

Remembering the welcomes

and the hot lies

the snakes stayed inside holes for a break

and we enjoyed

the video-game nights

when we just wanted to

fuck with the stars

and trap them between

tongues and teeth

The cement dried sooner tonight

and my feet are stuck

up to my ankles

like a hollow statue

eaten from the inside

by the wormwood of

reality

The kids of the neighborhood

i always wished to befriend

wrote on the pedestal

of my stomach:

"Always desired

this life to be mine, still

i'm the last in line."

REPRESENTING THE STREETS?

Stealing precious moments
for cheap art photographs
common-life burglaring costs me all the way
if i'm down for being around
then there's no excuse

Love is rats circling the wheel
I'm stuck on a chair without arms
watching

Sincere words fail to find
those great mouths of the downtown
Recommended breaths of all sorts
cut the dirt in two
we chose to stay in bed
like all good girls do

For a moment,
all of it felt like my nails
abandoned my toes
only to be hammered
on my casket

FIRST COME LAST SERVE

Felt unable to fit in a world

of fused retrospectives and

nauseous ideas

full-time nothings rusted.

Short atonic everythings

only staying for a moment

spitted off roofs and

i'm the first one clapping

for myself to quit.

Don't think i'm arrogant to only talk

in first person,

but, i've never felt another one.

LATE COMER

Gathering stones to throw

to closed windows

It's that temptation of breaking the law

that keeps pushing me forward.
We're injecting chaos
so, there's enough guilt to the walls
slowly pushing them down
and there's
dust panic tar
and a withering sense questioning
if
age is the trouble
or
the trouble is age.

Unsatisfied comes next to my name.

Don't talk to me about belief,

I was promised a hurricane,

but,

I only got a breeze.

I was born unfortunate

I was born, unfortunately

OVEREXPOSED

Everyone advertises,

now everyone's advertised

self exposed

well-hidden, like children.

Memory pays and i've seen you

passed, wounded and broken

A door left open

for you to come in

to a room without windows.

The door is locked now.

I never "lived in bars"

but, always behind them.

What i love the most,

is when people play with headlines.

ALIVE BUT NOT TRYING

Your hair gets whiter every day father,
i observe them
hair whiter hair, every day
like snow that occupies the empty space
of my soul

I would like the world to drown
every time i piss
like the death that redeems
the cripple's family

Don't run,
We will burn together
the forest
inhaling sulfur and carbon
from the sorrowful
factories

Your hair gets whiter every day father,
and it makes me emotional
to think that you didn't try to meet me
in the best of my years.

INTELECTUALLY INTRIGUED

Imagine i am a book.
Over the passing of time,
open me,
start me,
finish me,
tear me,
burn me.

VENUS

It's not Easter,
but i know
a couple that crossed itself
with darts
that reverse
I can tell by the
flat tires in your eyes
and the dead expressions
your unstoppable moaning
your incontrollable talking
i ask you to shut up
Roads run faster
the presence
detach from the carseat
and rain starts pouring
This is June.
See, i'm fond of gold
you're cold
like the that sailor drowned in your tears
You get influenced
and your limbs get fond of me
and we return to separate beds
untouched
this is Allen
but,
you're no Annie Hall.
Waking up to understand
you were just dreaming backwards.

THE END OF GOOD INTENTIONS

She took a bow
on all fours
and good intentions
died

I can
feel the spiders
crawling
on my toes

We've met
the end of
complexed
situations
mutual trust

The benediction
of darkness
that embraces
the dark alleys
where the only light
is only slipping
through the trash cans

You fuck cause it's a policy
me and mine made company
and it was so short
that you thought it was a firework
yet it was sex

No more love for long fingers
i got mine to care about
this is a rocket to the moon
of salvation
and the wolves howl in a circle

For you i can make the elevator
fall if you really really want
and i can pray that we can kiss the rainbow

To new lipsticks and new addresses
we forgot to blow the wind
and now our will is running thin

Have you really ever wondered how magnets work when a tongue is sucking tongues?

Haiku: MIRACLE

i forgot a bible
on a greenish pool table
and the pool cues bent

A COLLECTION OF CLICHES CAN MAKE A POEM INTERESTING

I will make the night
a beautiful trip
for you to wander
through the bridges
of serenity
the gardens
of yellow and seafoam

and as you lower
on your knees
to pray
i swear
i will keep the night
to a level where
the light of dawn
won't hurt your iris
it'll just warm your
scratched eyebrows

It will feel better
than the Christmas you spent
on a hospital bed
last December

You know, if you never
really acquired something
you can never trully miss it.

A BIRTHDAY POEM.

A poem to myself for George's Birthday

The torches light and allure the city lights with them
Breaths dissolve from the venetian blinds at war
I'm staring at them from the outside lusting to get inside,
where the opportunists give birth to ideas.
We chase the ephemeral and it's the people
that get in front of us, the mountains
oh' the mountains bent

You see brothers in the streets
with their greasy hair laughing
I know twins that met eachother by luck
not at birth, but, at concerts.
On days like these, we would wish them
"Happy Birthday"
even if it's not today.

NEW PARENTS

You cough in your sleep
dyspnea excites the amount
of atoms of worry
in the surrounding areas

She stares you sleep and cough
for hours. patiently waiting
till you wake
A paper thin line divides your reveries
from hers

Speculations float in the air
the verses that balance the cradle

We need an anchor to keep down the swing
so you the kid doesn't fall
and its tiny bones break to pieces
How can a childish life evolve
when you take out the play?

The mother says;
"Please watch out
cause
when you wake up
we got history to make."

SILENT ESCAPE

May you find the devil
between walls of cement
steel concrete debris
and cotton
May the devil find you between the hearts
that revolt
and burn after reading

Lies corrupt your system
of duotone communication
The air blazes through your veins
and dances with your guts
to the sound of your blood pressure
You wrote a suicide note in Braille
left in the gutter to be collected
by harvesters

There are times that i wish i was blind
or could just face the ceiling and fall asleep
for a lifetime

Slowly i dress my eyes in gauzes and you excruciate the fear
i read your suicide note with my fingers
says you left to the oceans
because you couldn't stand the soil anymore.
Years after i understood
The waiting mended the pain

You couldn't face the steadiness of the soil so you traded it for the sea
I couldn't face the ceiling so i started sleeping sideways.

MEMORY AQUARIUM

medium lighting
inside a brown room
but through my eyes it looks as blue as the sea can get.
i'm lying on my bed
pretending that i'm swimming
moving my hands and feet with convalsive movements
to the sound that noone hears but me,
and i'm smiling
i'm full
i'm happy
the happiest i've been in weeks
i'm gold
like a goldfish
swimming around, inside
my notional self made aquarium
that i call bedroom (my bedroo-oo-oo-m)
not really understanding
that in 10 seconds
i will forget it all
all the happiness, joy and completion
but i'll still happen to be
in this same aquarium

*This is included in my first zine.
Contact me if you want one.

I'VE BEEN ON A DIET FOR MY WHOLE LIFE

I feel small
for my skin
Do you wanna
come in
?

LIGHTHOUSE IN BUBBLEWRAP

See how gallant the lighthouse stands
like time never touches it
or it's a classic design
the older it grows the more beautiful it gets
We're used to watch it
getting beaten by the waves
Yet the lighthouse remains silent and disciplined
Remains there forever
A blind guide for the ships

My heart is a lighthouse
covered in bubblewrap
destined to be given as a gift
to young girls
in ballet classes
dreaming to be ballerinas
to young boys in the choir
singing about the war.

SELECTIVE SIGHT

Roman holidays lasted longer this year for the rats of the town
We might not remember the great show
but we remember the aftermath of bright lights
and the screams of the ecstatic crowd

Nothing's more sensual than scars
I colour you intrigued for creation
you vote for Catastrophe
Ascending like an idea
descending like god

The berries you saw
on the back of your hand
are now spoiled stains on the collar of your shirt
They might look like lipstick as well

It all comes down to believing your sight
and choose what you want to see
Is it lipstick?
Is it berries?
These goods are not available anymore

A cheap lipstick acquired from a fashion magazine, Revlon sample kiss left by anonymous source
A bunch of conservatory made grapes of wild taste, Prince's "Purple Rain" playing in the background
to enhance the motion

It's up to you to choose what to believe.

Now that you got the message,
do i get anything?

ZODIAC ELABORATION

For people into signs

asthmatic leather jacket
leftover cloth of the apocalypse
i kneel on my knees and with adjurations
my charm makes out with your stitches
"please wear me", i know you do it well

needles pierce through childish skin
a vaccine i never did
now owes me a punch
nausea spells my name with a boner
singing songs of suspicion

i know you have attached
a dagger into my spine
a curly haired heaven faints
as the doctors aspire for new customers
and green windows contrast your rosy cheeks

a man of red pepper raised in corn
those unreachable ressurections, those salad days
the pavements stated you know me well

bianca, draw me a portrait as i laugh
i know you will do great
exhilarated scorpios never survived (a) cancer
anyways

NOTE TO SELF

WHERE'S YOUR IMAGINARY FRIENDS NOW?

NESSECITIES

Lately i'm getting my coffee addiction back
and i feel happy
getting to see my brother getting older
a boy turns to a man
and
he got livers for lovers and lovers for livers
and a spirit full of hell, still
cannibalizing festivals
thrifting with
such naivity and such levity.
how are you doing lately?

I got my name written
on a tall grave
I got my fate working
on every jinx
I got a fork and a spoon
to eat misery
and the summer's round the corner
playing ball with my old classmates
that used to call me a bore
other spaces older times

I feel light as a feather as i write.

Strangers are only strange when they're strangers
Embrace the anonimity
I stay silent cause i have a lot to say

Sigh and seek secondhand salvation
we bought the guns from the grocery store
where you use to buy candy
for the infants

A moral eclipsis of a bipolar syndrome refugee
i pass out in the store
the store lady kisses me
and i feel seven years old again

We progress like bread
necessity drives us
and we feel guilty
like the bread and the rice and the hand
in your plate. and the head?
The world watches me now
unveil my travels
of misconnections
and objectivity
so thoughtlessly
sounding like a girl moaning
for never managing to walk on high heels.

APIARY LEVEL ZERO

Coarse face
Well-worn tires
I like the girls with Cleopatra's haircut
I like the girls with nose rings

Don't believe in the Blond, it's just a myth

I stand on a pallet
The wrecker never came
Around me only bulldozers
Wild
Like lions without jungle
Like people without money

We have broadened infinity
in multilingual diaries
with moldy memories
painted

Unwelcome daydreams
march between
tropic storms

Damn Loneliness,
I broke down the hive with a bat
Mutiny!
The bees escaped, a stampede for exit
In the black and yellow noise
noone could distinguish
the queen bee
anymore.

FRAGILE VASTNESS.

you hire a guy to get the job done
it's all about facial trust
and a handshake
like love, but, here you can sign a paper
like army, but, there's no fear of getting killed
it's not about getting into the river
now matter how cold the water is
but if you are finally getting to the other side

loyal tramp trap for knaves
doing business well
sleeping in hostile beds
now the soil stares at me
like a cloud
(when i'm looking in the ground feels like looking in the sky)

cause the soil is safe and the stars
oh' the stars are all shiny, but, they're far away

hello, my lover i feel the convenience
of being away or being silent
am i like this? i've always been
living
life
like
a movie

the band is connected through cables
the beat passes through veins
the soul intrigued and vast
and now the soil feels unsafe
the eyes become electric
lightning bolts enhance the feeling
and it all becomes
mutual.

JIM CARROLL MET ANNE SEXTON

A basketball injection drills sensually your critically aclaimed womb of roses.
Tongues licking big city windows.
In suicide letters and basement shows,
I was given birth.

3 SPOONS OF SUGAR IN MY COFFEE

fuck you take it away from me

LIFE LUST

peculiar answers launch
from even more peculiar mouths
we're left with moths
in the month of spring
no remorse for hungry beats
and misty eyes
i'm a task addict
post-it freak

there are boys in the corner
throwing bones to hungry dogs
ball and chains bound my fate
fear flushing through my eyes
"life will continue for everyone", evidently
and i understand
once again,
the more torturing something is,
the more you enjoy it

SPRING DISEASE

there's a hidden grace
in a drunk driver's touch
all those things you know he has seen
all those things he might be seeing now
halucinating in reveries
of witches and black cats
you are lost and you are here

all the beautiful girls come to town for spring
and all the boys with tattoos
flirting with paranoia like a sponge
serve drinks to the darkness

i drew with a marker on my shoulders
two horse pedals
to exorcise bad luck, i'm the one anyways
my heart is safe like a grave

they say they kill the horses when they grow old
killing beauty before decadence
consciously, so fascinating

they say they kill the horses when they grow old
i think i just found my ideal job

ARTIFICIAL DAYDREAMING

I can't compromise with the fact that the kids are not the same anymore. The kids are not what they used to be. A rebellion left to decay. No hopeless dreamers, no fuckers sleeping under bridge.
Now outcasts hide their second hand youth behind second head suits and tie their compromise round their neck as a collar.
We are shoplifting and we are 21 like our heroes did until the last of their days. So divine and such hopelessness disapproved and misclassified like broken empty bottles on the floor of the Town Hall. No Marilyn Monroe's where praised for this fact and no swans were slaughtered for this nuclear experiment. You get a prize out of this; a microwave love reheated and shallow as your heart is. No painfull lovers just the abandonment blues. My haircut was ruined from the wind of change, from the nervous modern citizens and the politicians that paid fortunes to have our names first act on Google. I got a couple of guns my father left me and a hidden camera on a third class hotel that tapes me fuck retired whores. You can know experience the crash of libido messing with vains and pumps and livers. My 15 seconds of fame is all the hopes i'm left with. My mother just snored when she understood i was the one on the evening news.

THE NOISIEST PAVEMENTS

Our coins are wasted on the arcades and we waste the rest of our days lying on wet pavements screaming and name calling pedestrians. Shoplifting pays well and we keep a twenty percent of stuff for the difficult years in the cellar. In its front entrance we've placed a set of antlers bought from an antique store to keep away the unwelcome. Inside the cellar we keep our stuff and 3 bird cages. Two of them accomodate two yellowish canaries and one bares the weight of our dead mice's skeleton.
We have patched the sockets with plasticine and the speakers are leaky. The dull buzz coming out of them makes the neighbours sleep a real torment as we choose the night hours for our silly basement parties.
At dawn, this place is even more of a mess than how it used to be and we lay or shake on the floor blue. We use the salt our mothers threw behind our backs for good luck to wash every new scratch.
It's all vain, but, it's the only thing we have besides the arcades that pays off a bit. Every new morning is a new plague. As our teardrops land on wet soil we understand that the place you're standing on doesn't really make a difference when you are crying.

PROTEST

i live life in colour
i've come past norms that insist that
black and white
makes pictures more
romantic
sensational
artistic

i live in this colourful world
dressed in black
face painted white
in order to protest
against life
for what
i don't have

ABSENT ROOMS

Statically
you spin the bottle one more time
as the door bangs
unorthodox movements brace your skin and you kiss
the girl with the glasses
pointed by the bottom of the bottle
a teenage feeling comes in your minds
pills and demons
cry with every television personality the see on the
neighborhood. If we kiss hands
you are holy
if we kiss lips, you are a drug
One feels like the discovery of the century
wrapped in paper sheets and dirty blankets
forever untouched
protected from the public eye.
Bastard remember,
we got your back as you scream
"Fuck You" to the walls.

ORDINARY FEELS HOLY WITH SOMEONE WATCHING

dear sacred blasphemy
come outside my window tonight
and watch me
i say all of my prayers last thing
before i sleep
right when i take a piss

SUBSTANCIAL REFERENCE IN LEISURE

i bought a poster today
for my wall
dead cheap from a guy
who came selling it
to buy his fix
the poster shows all races of dogs
in a luxurious living room
carpets, cartains and a fireplace
and all the dogs snuggle around it

what the artist couldn't portray
remains now outside of the piece of art;
me, the junky, our fair trade and the place in my wall
where all of us now
seem to hang from

I'M ALL AWARE OF CUPID, BUT, I CAN ONLY SEE THE DEVIL IN MY MIRROR

You are the world
I am the sea
where
the world will drown in

There's no logic in love
I fly solo for a long time now and
The sky is such
a desolate place

To your awareness
Wings are like shoes
They're only sold in pairs, yet
Their utility varies in lack
You can walk with one shoe
but never fly with one wing

Rephrase the inventory
We don't exist in existence
We are ideas
Body/Mind/Soul
All
Useless
Affirmatives
In
Negative
Calculations

GLOWING BLACK

Now that the windows are crackling
now that the cats are meowing
the phonebooth stays unvisited
only brochures of hookers and trash inhabit its ever exchanging square
we are stilted behind our windowshields
like these low payed prostitutes of the brochures
visionless eyes
waiting for the wind to blow our hair
and tear down these walls
where our fears breed in

Afraid to leave our place in case the electricity might cut off
the television might close
our empty lives we'll turn black and white again
and the only friends we ever had
visionless eyes
interrupted only by the commercials
will get more things to do
rather than staring at the ceiling
waiting for it to fall
on our heads.

BROKEN TRADITIONS

the rain was pissing right outside of my window today
then she,
she passed outside my front yard
i have faith, o' faith
then the rain,
the rain continued getting heavier right outside of my window

BAD EDUCATION, SMOKING IN THE TOILETS.

I hate the kids more than i hate myself,
yet i love the kids more than anyone else.

SPRING WALTZ

we wrote the songs that you hear on the radio
during the spring we hijacked on trains
in the back of the locomotives
we washed our livers with booze
left the parliaments to the ones that already had them
we felt the fresh air hitting our face
and we passed through the sunflowers
we crossed the cornfields
we hit on stranger's doors
and on the floors that we slept, we pissed
never wanting to go back again
always chasing something new
amongst the ripped shirts and the silences
as the bats waltzed around the electricity pillars
and the abandoned trucks mourned their merciless fate
we wrote the songs that make you cry
on the day our fathers died

New touch on old skin.

My mind has reached the vanishing point
hidden between the berry bushes
i hold a basket
smaller than the size of a cup
i eat a champion's breakfast
to get through my day
ninetofive mental push ups
fivetonine mental letdowns
hopelessness defines what remains unhanded
crying eyes portray the puberty days
my adolescent years have become a businessman's routine sale
lost in the maze of modern trashcans we call cities
a life bought from ikea
i will give it away to the first beggar on the street
then if the opposites attract each other
Midas gold will turn to dirt
beggars will never die again from thirst.

20022010

Today i woke up at 11.11 by myself. I smiled. I had my usual breakfast, the exact same breakfast that i'm having for a year now. I found a lot of new music and listened to some old vinyl records. The view of records spinning makes my happy. I checked my facebook and someone i don't know in person linked my blog. I felt so great. I sent her a message telling her i love her. I don't know when was the last time i told this to someone.
I had lunch with my brother and mother. My father wasn't at home and i'm always relieved when he's not.
Then i slept again, i slept for 6 hours. I took some good rest and as soon as i woke up my parents were no longer at home and i was alone. I made no plans although it's a Saturday night.
I listened to more music and talked with some people on the phone and then went out running.It's a long time since i went out running and i really enjoyed that. Sweat makes me realize i'm alive. I took decisions for some things and then came back home and i was alone. I took a picture of myself sweaty and dirty as i use to do lately.
I had a warm shower, i had a warmer milk. I sat alone in the living room, lights out, and watched "7 Years In Tibet". I haven't seen that movie since i was 12 that was on the television. I don't really remember when was the last time i opened the television and i'm glad it was open and that movie played. Brad Pitt looks so handsome. I remembered how it feels to be afraid of war. I used to be afraid of war and the possibilities of a potential war, as i was younger.
Now i type this and the only certain things are that i will update my journal and brush my teeth and go to bed.
I don't know what else will happen in the meantime.
I'm happy today. The city sky is full of dust, but, my soul is clean. I'm lost inside these small things and i'm happy. This is not my usual kind of posts, but, noone cares anyway and i'm full right now.

NORDSTROM

sweat makes me realize i'm alive
i don't need a lot
i can't afford less than what i need
i'm not an artist cause noone is
i'm nobody and noone
i'm somebody and something
something small compared to the size of the earth
something big compared to the size of the man
sweat makes me realize i'm alive
i only take pictures of myself when i'm ugly
to keep in mind that real beauty can be captured only when you want it to

PUBLIC APPEARANCES.

Dear friends, lovers and strangers,
I ruin my expensive vocal chords shouting for a band called RUINED FAMILIES.
We play our first show on 21/2 at AN Club with Belgium's Rise And Fall. Come see me there. This is my big exit. This is the visualization of negative space. There are no excuses. Thank you in reverse.

www.myspace.com/ruinedfamilies
www.ruinedfamilies.blogspot.com

Mature decisions.

I consider myself lucky for quitting drinking.
She's got strong luck and a mind of absence
constantly telling her what to do.
My will is strong, but, her perfume is stronger
so i layered all my insecurities on the butcher's table,
on her crazy crazy heart,
and this obscene scene can see no rivals.

When it's party time there's no stop sign
There's a tear on her face and a phrase tattooed on her right hand,
surrounded by veins mapping my slow comeback
the word says" i have me to offer".
I consider myself lucky for quitting drinking
i'm not jealous at all of post party tattoos
or what they call the morning after blues.

Remove regret from past voyages.
Futures are made with hard work and my feet are stuck on the ground.
The snake smiles at the blade withought thinking about it's future.
Barcelona i miss you although i never met you.

THE TENSION DESCRIBED BY THE MOVEMENTS OF THE LIPS. AT LAST THE DEPOSIT OF NOTHING NEW

You like like a girl.
You look like a girl; he said and his eyes closed and the rain was falling right upon them.
On his eyelids waterfalls were created and his lips curled.
The loss of words betrayed his instability.
I might look like a girl, but, you're the one who gets wet; i said.
His mouth didn't open for the next three months.

/ I R O N Y /

We have seated the lepers in the privileged chairs and for the rest of the crowd we've kept the back seats
You seat 3 rows behind and your pop corn tastes sour and your ecstatic ego is bleeding now
In the front row the human deluge feasts with your broken nerves and disappointment
One bell rings
Two bells ring
Three bells ring
The pale faces. The hateful metamorphosis.
The crowd becomes the leper and the leper becomes the viewer.
The play starts and the lepers smile cattily.

ZINE

So here's the deal.
I got a new zine. Xerox Photocopies, 30 Pages, Hardcover.
Everything is hand assembled and limited to 40.
Cheap poetry, lo-fi imaging, distortion and noise.
If you want one of these just leave me a comment or contact me at tzontiros@hotmail.com.
I'll be glad to send those anywhere!

/ A N T I C I P A T I O N /

On the table we dished the shiny plates and cutlery
forks, knives and napkins
Medieval candles adorn the table
and their spakles reflects to your greedy eyes
The chairs are dressed in leather and my heart,
my heart is on the pig's mouth
waiting for you to mangle.
And you can't even imagine what i've made for dessert.

/ V A N I T Y /

I spent the divorce money on buying every single copy of Dorian Gray.

/ R E J E C T I O N /

Each word is a composition of feelings.
Each feeling is a definition of living.
Each drop of sweat is a vivid essence.
Each step in this world is rented.
Every breath i take now feels like putting my hands into some stranger's pants.

A MIRROR

From where i stand i can see you kid
cursing your fate for growing old
dropping your shoulders and lowering your head
you're beautiful but you're not aware
that life is such a bad joke.
See, being deaf is being relieved and going blind is what you seek
you lost connection with this world and you deny everything
you know the plot
you played this role and know it all
still how can you live without actually living.
I can connect to your hunger.
I haven't seen such grace in negative space.
You know that mirror broke seven years ago,
isn't this the time you've been looking for so long?

MAKEMEBELIEVEINTHIS
I NEVER LEARNT HOW TO USE THIS WORLD
OR
I CAN'T REMEMBER MYSELF USING IT ANYTIME BACK THEN
ALTHOUGH
I LEARNT MORE WORDS
LIKE
LIPSTICKONMYCOLLAR
YOUNGSEXONTHESTREETS
AHOLETOBURYUSIN
AND
INEVERTOUCHEDSKINASADDICTIVEASYOURS
NOTHING SOUNDS AS GOOD AS
MAKEMEBELIEVEINTHIS
THOUGH

I NEED TO CATEGORIZE MYSELF.

people say i'm quiet.
yet, i believe that silence
is the most cruel thing of all.

PIECE OF ADVICE

no matter how fast you act
the machines are faster than you
no matter how fast you think
the inferno is faster than you
no matter how fast you run
the twister is fast than you
no matter how fast you cum
there's always someone faster than you

STEADY DIET OF DOPE

Did you really understand what happened? I haven't seen you coward. I've never met you. Yet i felt you inside me haunting me like an aura. The twisted obsession you called love was slaughtered at my front door and it's head was left at the garbage can for the cats to feast and the ragmen to embalm. It was slaughtered and unfeathered, first vaporized in perfume and then the skull was dressed in leather. With the money from taxidermy we got 3 cab rides to nowhere and we met the bums of the town and rocked the fucking bridge till it was burnt down like our years of innocent youth. Can you remember what really happened? Virgins were slaughtered and we're not kids anymore yet we carry cellphones and portable televisions one step closer to the edge of the Great Cliff forward. Our hearts are hanging from our sleeves and tags are tied on our toes writing our names on them. Our names are "Young Lovers Burn Faster". Now the stereo mutes as our heartbeat grows cold. Flowers ascent from the bottom of our beds and form funeral wreaths where hearts alive used to strand.

JANUARY NIGHTS

endless tea and endless work
i'm getting around better lately
needles in my tea and needles in my work
still i'm doing much better lately

i'm all outrageous and outgoing
running around the city like a rat in a wheel
first come first serve
i doubt you'll make it to the show this year

i rock the ball and spill the wine on your dress
but you don't really care cause it's all about "the inner beauty"
and i know you have such an autonomous will
a fist on the chin and a good one to the loins

you say you're a misanthrope but i can't spell a word
there's a dirty beat going up and down the walls
curling up your leopard print bra
trick or treat and i'm your entrails now

i can tell you're a sucker for bad poetry and cheap wine
i got a cellar were we can hide in for weeks
curse your parents and regrets
i'm soulless verses from your toes to your belly button

you believe in short dresses and acting like a movie star
seems like this chair has your name on it
"i've seen you've been here for 3 days now"
and you replied "i can see you're a frequent goth here too"

we've been looking for the same things
pop culture ruined the lust you're serving me with
cheap perfume and red wine stains on your dress
i'm now obsessed with this freightful mess

sinners take one on the chin and i already got mine
saints get a couple more in the butt and you're one of a kind
if you got a black list then i'd love to join in
one more for the road and we're off to oblivion

CHANGE

you press the red button
and a list of options unveils right in front of your eyes
a list of potentials for a new life
you can see the underbelly of the everyday disappear
yet you continue to press the red button
anxiously
afraid of what change might take away from you

FUNERAL SHORTCUT

let's reincarnate the living
no tears for the dead
let's reestablish the world
no praise for the modern man

everything is made of
blood concrete flesh wires
and lots of liquids
that we rarely think about

offer the humanity a womb to die in and get reborn again

ANDY WARHOL'S FATHER

what would andy warhol's father have thought of his son's future at birth?
what would he think of his marilyn monroe color patterned multi portraits?
what would he think of cocaine infected anorexia and twiggy poses?
what would he think of lo-fi artsy videos and a legacy badly spent?

i think of this as i watch drunk chicks on lsd dancing and their white shirts and white teeth glow under the strobe light.

THE YEAR MY HEART FELT WORN AFTER THE YEAR MY HEART GOT REBORN.

Years change,
days pass,
memories fade,
still i feel like nothing has changed.
Yet everything is getting
more and more scary.