i think i genuinely have nothing to say to anybody

i should shave my beard

and leave a mustache or something to be funny

feel like everything i write is stilted

i am afraid of my audience

who the fuck are you people?

i might have a doughnut for breakfast

or some kind of salmon-based concoction

with pasta

i attract unattractiveness despite my symmetry

where did all of this come from

i guess someone invented bubblegum

what is this bullshit

recently came across a lot of money

might spend it on elicit drugs

maybe narcotics

or prescription amphetamines

to stay up and write more poetry

i've never danced like i did last night

i touched a girl's vagina

her underwear was soaked with vaginal lubricant

i was too drunk to have sex

there is a tribe of native americans in brazil

whose language is strictly present tense

and they have no god

i wish i were an oyster

and made a record-breaking, enormous pearl for you

caused by a sealion swimming by

and irritating my muscly flesh

via residual sand and debris

oysters create accidental gemstones

seems 'bizarre'

i am immuned to swine flu somehow.

i am an angry and unyielding pair of toenail clippers

what happens when toenail clippers accelerate off the side of a seventy-story building due to gravity

do they become angry and unyielding to everything except asphalt

via passing through the air and through the skull of an unwitting yorshire terrier on the ground

do they become scared shitless and regret everything about their life

when i commit suicide off of the side of a seventy-story building

i will focus my imagination on thoughts of bacteria in my stomach

i will imagine life that is completely non-self-aware

eating things that my body neglects to digest

and making little single-celled shits on my stomach wall

and i will make a smile that reaches from my left temple to my right temple

and a fan of the chicago bears will break my fall

and a woman walking a yorkshire terrier will make a noise and put her hands on her cheeks

and her face will stretch nineteen inches vertically

my fall will be broken

and then i will have cooked mushrooms and a bottle of wine for lunch

i will casually jog to vermont

there are tarantulas everywhere and i am in love with a stripper

the new shoes i bought don't fit very well.

i walked to you and told you my last name

you said 'i know your last name, and your middle name'

i looked at your face and smiled

we were together, standing next to each other

i am friends with your sister and a couple of rabbits as well

i stood in the grass on a lawn once and connected to the internet

it wasn't fun at all

i feel fifty-eight percent more content about life around you

seems like you don't care about this

seems like if i told you this in person you would say 'aww' or something

i feel like nothing when i am not around you

is that okay?

is it okay for a person who exists and is capable of performing actions to feel like nothing?

who is doing the math for these problems?

i just decided to make this poem one line longer and am happy with that decision

feeling incapable of forming concrete ideas.

earth is a massive thing

earth is fucking enormous

enormous things scare me to little pieces of shit

feeling small and inconsequential doesn't do anything

if i could feel love for one person, everything would change

if one person had enough capacity to love me violently

i think the earth would spin faster

and the fucking enormous earth would become confused

and do impossible, unnatural things

like allow long moments of silence in certain places

and little children would go days without crying

and the panda population would go back to normal

i don't know if i believe in love

there are venomous animals and fungi everywhere

and every mouth i put my mouth on i get little germs i never had

is there something worth dying faster and more recklessly for

the same thing that happens when you divide an atom happens to people

i want a back that i can call mine

and can kiss whenever the mood hits me

a back with shoulder blades, a spinal column, and shoulders on either side

alienated but maybe feeling OK about it and only a little suicidal.

i saw you two days ago

where did you go?

i bought you a pacifier

for you to lace with drugs

but haven't seen you since thursday

i am sad

and feel unproductive

like there are a trillion assorted miniature zoo animals

falling from the existential plane above my head

and collecting in my ankle/wrist area

preventing me from walking anywhere or typing anything

i will defiantly walk out into the street

and smoke a cigarette, looking sophisticated and bohemian

and die

my corpse will combust spontaneously

and my neighbors will gather around the bonfire of my shell and say 'he was an alright guy'

and walk away with neutral facial expressions

continuing with their routines

which include cooking, watching television, reprimanding various children, and masturbating in their respective houses

as well as other places

given the right amount of privacy

i just died