Archive for November, 2009

Posted in i'm afraid of americans, paranoia, Uncategorized on November 20, 2009 by matt questionmark

see the difference in your defense
cloaking your dagger
knives the dark toothed fear
this mortal wound!
festering a remorse!
no time like the present
giving dirt for love
boxes of scorched hair scattered along your highways
making you have a threetoothed smile
as your mouth hits pavement
this is as real as it gets
monetary notes flutter from your flatulence
pictures of jesus wearing skinny jeans
on the cover your rolling stones
his hair all echo’d by bunnymen
!these great purveyors of modern times!
witnesses cream their corn
grope their mothers
scream and fall to the floors
pissing themselves with epileptic fervor
you cover these cunts with your dirt
and say meaningless words
looking upward into the skyless stars
why do you cry when you have a cravecase to eat?
why do you cry when radiohead hasn’t broken up yet?
grope your remorse
knives in your hot piss box
making mama scream for pestilence
hip new screeching bounces in your brain
this immortal world!
lava as blood!
trees are cunts!
let them suffocate from meat farts and factory toxins!
just sit there gumming your iphone
like a giant sour gummy worm
lazarus rises from behind the couch
only to blow his brains out
five minutes later
teevee flashes before you
test patterns
indian head fades to allah
then to obama
screen goes black
the muffled weeping commences…….


why tony saputo can never become a theorem

Posted in exploding heart on November 10, 2009 by tony saputo

there are times i know i could be better
instances i let the logic slip
but i know
there is something
worth having
that is waiting
for me

test the formula
again and again
you know before you begin
right where you finsh
variables to me
a poet’s slur
never perfect

i truly believe we are not afraid of so much, but hold steady the fear of nothing to come…
if i prayed it would be for you… all of you

the whisky doesn’t work

Posted in Uncategorized on November 5, 2009 by matt questionmark

the whisky doesn’t work anymore
soaking the saddle of slapping salutations
across the peanutbrittle cheeks of love
chafed crotch
wet running in clouds of illhumor
dragging feet in sloshedshit jeans
weighing me down in the mud of nature
)excrement of the minds(
throat dry with soreness
from habitually yelling my remorse
these pills don’t taste like sugar anymore
these pills rot yer toofs
make yer liver hurt
-back breaks everyday
only to be forgotten
lost in the pile of shit
in the bottom of a batcave-
brain slips on pavement causing litigation
courtroom slapstick gentrification
of a formerly pleasant situation
rainbows die here:
put out to pasture
like old bulls who need that bullet in their brain.

1000 pills per second

Posted in exploding heart, guilt in the serenity on November 2, 2009 by tony saputo

closest one
you varied in mescaline and tabs
clammy awake and still asleep
the world passing us all on
the windows tell us your tales
technology commands us to forget
everything and anything about whatever good could come from this

if i could see a savior in all this
you would call it a mirror
i give too much
for it to really matter anyways
the three hour waking sessions
waning the pricks of last nights arm
how far away is the end
it feels like we will never get there anyhow…

rest assured…

Posted in Uncategorized on November 2, 2009 by tony saputo

…this really was not what i was planning on
the delicacies of my every existing moment
over flowing with the tenderness to give devils tears kissing the callousness to defy angels
i am not a part or a piece
for they live to a larger structure and function for another
the machines
the system melodics
the orchestration of harmonies and leads
collectively leave me to create
a pecking order for all my loves and her affairs…
on the street they told me,” pimping ain’t easy.”
au contraire, just and logical
all we really want is to be shaken to the core, anyways


Posted in this living is less than loving, Uncategorized on November 1, 2009 by matt questionmark

damp voices fading under leaves
softly chasing smiles across the streets
teeth gnashing
pulling former fears back into the forefront of reality
backbreaking mindlessness
a wish for 1999
weed smoking
and some chicken soup