Untitled Poem

by Chad Nieboer

the most obvious reason humans aren't natural is our fear of death. with our murder of words, we feast on gods. sprinkle flower pedals on our feet. this releases the blackest scream from my empty stomache.... cough spiked heels through the eyes of reason. return to the friends we've left behind chained to their sorrows the skeletons sperm is poison arrows in the garden of slumber. angry red automation, collaberating behind our backs. the green fangs of hangovers leave us helpless screaming in our dreams dreams dreams..... let me explain! first we were enslaved with religion, then by government, and now we're the slaves of business. this voice echos in the back of my mind. silver tingles and butterfly kisses. the garbage man laughs during his inspections. return my secrets! in the land of wilted flowers i am king. i march through endless adventures, we like to start fires. masturbation is the new way to pray. she took a knife into the back seat bras on review mirrors traveling across the great american boarders. let's kiss mexico on the ass and apologize for our heritage. OH! black and blue tears. my outside is bruised. my ghost is soaking wet and eating candy my roots are in alienation my roots are in confusion i've taken my advise to the limits, i've guarded against dragons. i'm brave enough to sleep in a nest of police demons. i feel so guilty! god made my body full of orgasms! i chose to be alive. in death yr placed in the belly of the earth boring boring boring, i'm sick of being bored shit in yr pools and tear down yr castles. let's go go go over the edge and into the infinate we'll kill the infinate growing up alone without artistic guidance the next best thing is criminals and they say "enjoy poverty, when we see the rich dead, don't give a fuck, take a piss!" a golden dance into the rich deliverance. the odar of nostalgia reminds us all. my tribe corrupts children, we grab their hands and lead them away from your smoking machines and gray fire blasts we are the wild and immortal. chains hang on our walls. kicking bottles and throwing stones kiss bleeding tongues and cut to the bone we never had a home look into my face i really mean it i have dirty eyes. dirty minds avoid brain washing my tongue licks bullets i only feel safe in my pajamas in late afternoon i lay down and watch the shadows dance on the ceiling and i close my eyes the explosions cast a shadow on all my activities. i don't mind i have a camera in my left hand i'm chewing on the film the disease is behind my eye lids. it makes me cry. i don't wanna die. we were children, we are children did you see what i drew for you? what is it? it's for you? oh, well i don't like it......