The Ant Colony Sure is Busy Today

Smack serves sole souls. Spinners slurping smack Smashed, spun fun. Spinning starts segueing spectacularly spilling into,  swirling time spent spun.  Sipping smack sparsely, slowly once spun fun is done. So slim,  spun spinners sucking  and searching seriously for  sex sleazily and serendipitously Slipping slowly and sleeplessly sipping sludge stupidly.  Surrounded by slick suspiciousness selfish spun spinners soothe their Skull with smack surreptitiously. Spun spinners stuck sticking Syringes subdermally till sore. Only to settle their stones and  Score more smack to sip and slurp. Soaring sorely spun spinners subdermally Syringe seriously spinning till spun out. Sick and scorn sheepishly surrounded by Spinning spun smackers syringing more.  Sneering, sneezing, snorting, and scoffing Spinners snarl, swallow, and spoil such  Special smack they savor, salvage, and sell. See to it, slacking and smoking surpassing a schedule. Staggeringly big st...

A maniac is a special kind of person. A maniac might mean well. A maniac might have kind eyes. A maniac might have good intentions. A maniac might not have always been one. A maniac is a person transformed. The maniac is always on edge.  The maniac is deluded. The maniac keeps to himself. The maniac is paranoid. The maniac has surveillance. The maniac is seldom happy. The maniac is lonesome. The maniac doesn’t sleep. The maniac doesn’t realize it. This maniac is a party planner. This maniac sells party supplies. This maniac sleeps in his car. This maniac comes in through the window. This maniac doesn’t disturb the blinds. This maniac covers the motel security camera. This maniac rewires his whole house. This maniac is always under construction. This maniac makes his apartment a renovated murder scene. This maniac demands his owed payments. This maniac gives you an obscene credit line. This maniac accepts payments in food, sex, and drugs. This maniac is an addict. This maniac ...

The grocery hack, as it was called. Put ‘em in Stack ‘em up Bag ‘em good We struck a deal with the dealer the party planner himself. Steaks Lobsters –claw meat– The man wants –claw meat– The man wants  c o c k t a i l    SHRIMP PRIME RIB The man wants various MEATS          & CHEESES The man wants  –filet mignon– –Kerrigold butter– Beer too, a novelty for him. Karl was “a chef at two four-star restaurants y’know.” “yeah, I know…” We’d stock T H E    C A R T stack T H E   W A G O N stick it in T H E    B A S K E T steal it in M I N U T E S  Then simply RunOutTheDoor  We had tradin’ to do.  Victorious, our celebratory shrimp ring awaited.

Two of them, barging in, unannounced. He’s already crying, again . Two mean hookers Its money they want drugs they want, Just Given. So annoying too. “You made me do ketamine?” “Alright, Mike, mikemikemike.” “I’m telling the manager.” ‘Oh, shes going to tell on me…’ ‘Don’t give in, Rob. You’re better than that.’ “Can I have $200” ‘Who are these people?’ “Talkin’ trash to the garbage around you…” –Beck ‘For the record… she did the mysterious line, herself . Helped herself to it.’ ‘Oh, their drugs are more sophisticated? Healthier? Better?’ ‘What do I know…I’m just wiggly–ish .’ ‘Man, she’s playin’ some reindeer games’ Still bitching at me. She rifled his box. Nothin’ but…  FaggyLittlePartyDrugs Woof . 

Sick daze , I took, we had Those days, home together Sick most days in fact,  Must be from the weather At least until.. Mail’s here, again . Party. It snowed so much that summer         So hard I couldn’t stay awake, even when I did go to work.  Empty bags littered about with hidden stashes alike Easter eggs, never from Mike . When you were sick I was worried Too worried to work Never your fault, I had Steve to help lurk.  When I was sick I didn’t know Wouldn’t know, couldn’t see . You always would take care of me. Sick together, in different ways We were together on those snow daze Medicine was just a short walk down to the mailbox, we’d talk and we’d clown Then we’d feel better, awake and well Snow daze and sick days went by in a flash To the mailbox, third time today, we dash . Oh the wonderful glow Of that pretty snow Back to work, not today ,  I don’t think I'll go . Who make the rules anyway I’d rather have some blow .  

                                                                                                       Did we die ? Did I die ? …would we know ? …where’d we go ? You said some T H I N G S  that really, got me thinkin’ bout T H I N G S  Philosophy. Life. T        H           I             N                G    B  I  G    T  H  I  N  G  S.         Heaven,  Purgatory,  Hell,    ...