#like your shitty American nationalism DOES NOT need to be included in a sacred space

[apostate-in-an-alcove]

The American Christian insistence to have their flag hung up in their churches is so strange. I feel like if you did that anywhere else in the world, you'd get (rightfully) told to take it down.

[roberthanleytortora-blog]

This guy needs a new American dream

The guy was mid Sinatra song

Singing like some real-life crooner

As the room full of musicians

Obliged him

This one glory

Which I didn’t bother listening to

Instead taking a seat on the couch

After singing

Which is when he sat beside me

On the filthy smoke stinking

Practice space

Couch

He did lots of cocaine

Blow was all in his brain

Not a single look at him

The entire night didn’t see him

Slicing up piles of white powder

But don’t get the wrong idea

his lines were small

Not only that

He didn’t even shoot it

Matter of fact

There wasn’t a needle in sight

What a waste

so it’s not really like doing drugs even

His high wasn’t worth much

In Jesus feels

Warmth

And sunflower blooming

sure

he was high,

but w

ho here wasn’t?

These guys were always handing 100 bills over

For cheap blow

All cut with filler

You want good coke

Get it from the real drug addicts

Their guys would be out of business if the junkies street supplies

Weren’t always the real thing

Guys like me who know their drugs

Know who has the hardest hard drugs

Actually

I run with smart girls

Pretty girls

Break your heart types who fly by the seat of their pants

Paint perfection

Star flower Lillie’s by the bouquet

Make me dream again

Kill me omg

Running with wicked women who create whole worlds around their souls

Sneak me into bathrooms

Stick needles full of cocaine, meth amphetimine, heroin, fentenyl, death dreams come true in this morning haha omg omg

Hey man you guys should have seen how the rain fell

Dead best friends

Dead lovers

Dead sacred presences who held every secret

Dead lips long to learn again lips kissing passion sharing living in this reality

Spaces of me given over for keeping, heart beat, sacred holy human electricity, magnetic fields which surround outside the end of body

Fields of us shaping our shapes and us our molecules all bound into frequency DNA schuman resonance

Everyone with whom I became one

Bawling on bathroom floors beneath sinks sinking into arms like Jon’s who just hold me love me hold me and will hold me forever hold on for hours as blood orange suns rise and

Tell me over and over

They are with me

They are here with me

They will love me

That they won’t ever not love me

That we have been through everything together

That kissing me in high school

Eating LSD

Phish festivals

Huge homemade bongs

How I first taught him how to write songs

That he knew every song I ever wrote

They’d be remembered forever

Because he knew

I forgot

Everything

All the time

And even Blue who said

“What happened to you man? You used to be so smart, Jon and I were always so impressed trying to chase down your latest accomplishments and catch up. I’m not trying to be a dick. I just want to know what the he’ll happened to you”

But Jon held me every night

Vodka Drunk and demolished by all day boozing everyday

10am to sundown to sunup

So much I’ll never say

But Jon is gone

Alyssa, gone

Caity Perretti

Hannah Serbun my heart hurts so much

Photos of her so dirty that every hour of our days of our years of our life together

Of our friendship

And of her as wife

Wicked games of womanhood who are worlds of wanting whatever will ease this agony, inside claws crossing through organs guts puss mess goo and excrement air of alone and in a room suffocating on everything oxygen and breathing, seeing, thoughts at all, every turn

TERROR

osh told me

‘this guy likes to talk a lot. A lot”

Sure

That was packed fact

as it turned out

But maybe that’s why

when he saw me

hunched over

the blank notebook page

scrawling

words

for hours

he asked

hey

what are you youwriting a novel

Not a novel

A poem

it’s this idea that

every poem

is written in

public

like on the subway or

while I’m walking through Cambridge or

pulled over on the side of the road or

in a room full of friends

who become strangers

as the ink

becomes more flash

then my body

and the page is

more eyeballs

then my eyes

“I’d love to read some of it”

Thanks the interest

this poem is terrible

There’s an old one here

My friend told me I don’t understand holy

No one understands holy holy holy holy

Can look at this now

How look at this now

how can you say that man

this guy needs a new take on old the old American dream

Cigarette machines gas stations diesel fuel Highway 69 thumbs up hitchhiking roaming from highway to highway across America eating apple pie diners more gas stations restrooms and gas stations big rig trucks with 18,000 wheels growing through the symphony of pavement High on meth and feta means so that sleep doesn’t come tonight but the bigger paycheck does cops and blue uniforms the ones that talk to neighbors and no the town maybe somewhere in Iowa like that place Hansberry lives the kind of town you take your New York Matt wife to and raise a family 34 dogs all with cancer and missing legs that live forever are like 900 years in people age who never read the Bible or pick it up until they’re in a church and it won’t offend anyone no one can get the wrong idea about them God liberals good liberals hate Trump are convinced that his election will end the world you know the type working a lifetime in office rooms and building up towards windows to look out while becoming a skeleton and sure as shit about American values and that half America doesn’t have them or or stupid The sort of folks who find everyone but themselves dumb or stupid just because just because.

This guy needs a new tag on the American dream something without all the apple pie dad coming home to cook dinner obedient mom who pops benzo’s and never fucks anyone Who lives in a different neighborhood or doesn’t know their lawn or has an old car or drives a truck with make America great again stickers and a friendly smile when greeting strangers who work behind counters or have shitty jobs or are perceived to be judged like they themselves feel judged by the America with real values who judge everybody who decide no one can have a good intention if they watch Fox News or have good things to say about the party of Trump or if they are conspiracy theory rest and say things like Alex Jones shouldn’t be allowed allowed to be censored because generations of our ancestors died laid down their lives for the right to have freedom of speech people who say things like I don’t care if you say vaccines don’t harm anyone everything affects everyone including injecting mercury various poisons cocktails of chemicals created by pharmaceutical companies like Purdue Pharma who told all the doctors to start prescribing Oxsee cotton nonaddictive Oxsee cotton because it’s not addictive no one gets addicted to it just like every facts and nation vaccination is totally homeless homeless harm this

Before I even started it man I was like this guy needs a new take on the American dream that was even before the poem started talking about the American dream and I got it the dead American dream night we were sold the world different than the world we live in but you need a new take on it a better take

Why don’t you write a poem and include hope in it

This American dream has no hope.

You need to have hope in an American dream if you’re going to have one otherwise what’s the point right

to which I thought in response

my question exactly