Jibber Jabber from a Jim Jam Jabberwocky

Non-sequential nonsense from a man with nothing left to lose, except his job.

Nonsense, all colored people sing."
“This is an outrageous example of unconscious racial chauvinism.” Jack said.
“Nonsense I like their singing.

—Ralph Ellison -Invisible Man

When There Is Nothing Left To Write

I have never met a hookah smoking caterpillar
nor have I ever been rocketed up into outer space
but I have racked my nuts on a bicycle seat
several times in fact, not that I am proud about it
but I feel that I should start thinking with in the limits of experience
and forgo writing in terms of French women of the night aliens
taking on GOP pundits to turn America into a nation
of waffle craving gun lunatics, and I am happy to come
to this realization while performing one armed push-ups
in a bee hive designed by jelly bean pirates, yes it
makes me jubilant to finally write the truth.

I Will Always Be Standing Here

there is something on your lips
a past lovers broken hearted kiss
I will not try to wipe it away
for I was not present back in those days
and it is for you to recall
daily or not at all
just don’t lose me
or get lost
in those memories.

A sad can of black beans cooks on the stove. A sad can of black beans costs less than a dollar. I watch hungrily as the can slowly cooks. My one meal for the day cooks. I rationed my cigarettes but my health is a lost cause. I lie and say everything will be o.k., though I know that it won’t, at least not for some years and I justify lighting a rationed cigarette. There is plenty of money is this world to be made. I earn little money. I own nothing of importance. A laptop won’t turn on but the typewriter is still a friend. You can type on practically anything and same goes with a pen. I am too hunger to write at the moment. So I watch my sad can of black beans, costing less than a dollar, a cheap meal for a day and I wonder if I am already a failure at the age of twenty four. Can I be more of a sad sight then this can of beans? They say god is always watching but I am sure he has already flipped the channel.

-short fragment about my past.

Beautiful Loser

listening to Leonard Cohen
is like reading a book
don’t bother me.


Seasons change faster
the days hero’s are falling
and my hands don’t fight
they lay open with crying.

The mountain peak is a giant
my sling shot never makes it
but I’ll keep slinging the shit
against possibilities walls.

I know there is something more I can do,
then be a slave to the wage,
that can’t pay the bills when they’re due,
but the future is a mystery
that can’t be solved.

So bare with me as I tremble
run amok and act questionable
I’m on trial for all my errors
and your love keeps me from the terrors.

Oh lover
Oh savior
I am no baby in a manger
but I am trying to do
the very best that I can.

Listening to sad songs for no reason except to curse the sun.

Broken Humorless

I’m broken humorless
toy soldiers line up to deploy the final joke
the bathroom won’t lock
static radio is cracking up
where did we leave the photographs
there was a laughing matter time
and I long to read your comments

stampede of summer girls
I’m holding my coat ready for the first frost
trying to sleep it off
hibernating in thoughts dark and steep
you were one of them once before
but now I can’t remember my part

can someone show me the exit
I want to be somewhere new
where the heavens are silent
and nothing moves

call you home
my name is alone
broken humorless

The nightmare is real but my faith rests un the foreskin of an invisible apology. Grant my five fingers in the reflection of Tolstoy’s now. I am alive there for I am dying. Penniless is a state of mind, hollow and thick, cremated ashes blowing gently in shallow purpose. I am afraid to sneeze, my soul is fragile and young.

—excerpt from my notebook. written yesterday at School House Pub.

Shaking Off A Hangover Like A Spider Web

I miss my bed
my pillow
your body

work isn’t optional
but boozizza is

and I am starting to feel
more normal
more awake,
I’ll get through this day

long enough to curl up
and eat leftovers

why else do we pay for