quasi_sean

Due to TehAngus's praise, I have decided to post this poem in its whole. I believe stanzas have appeared in one form or another over the past couple of years, but this is the finished (?) product. I apologize for the length, so if you get bored reading it, please go check out the beautiful Martini as her set went live today. If you do happen to indulge me long enough to read it all, go visit Martini when you are done. It will be like the cigarette after really good sex. I'm an idiot.

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Broken Teeth/Light bulb Fascination


I

there were moons that burned that October eveningburned an awful redlike the tip of her cigarette
voices from across the yardthe authority whispers (a quick note & kiss) & you are on your way

oh, the smells like jail the silly & unbending bars winding spiral metal staircase the ceilings doused w/sanitizer
pick one crazy from the crowdembellish his motives & plead for the truth from between his crazy lips
said theyll see me in this hell on Tuesday
the rooms are crowded w/crazy
no experience like the one spent dreaming thru an entire weekend of scars the open on commandthe music, songs of demons that ejaculate a doom
one last cock in hand, the bath, the silence of car ride to the country
now she wants answers, placing voices as they should be recognizable in a flurry of goddamn noise
you maam, bite signals w/those false teeth, and I can read in the wrinkles around your eyes that youve done this before
maybe, maybe, in your dreams the crazy come back to haunt you as their executioner
but for now w/a frown, she casts me northmy ferryman the sheriff himself
& grueling three hrs. sweat glued to the leather seat as his jokes fail to amuse me.
Im one of the lucky ones, he says, as if maybe he believes it to be so.
I cannot hurt myself anymore.

II

in thru the doors, the new asylum is a graveyard w/walls & death while feet shuffle thru the hallways w/no intent
there are the jokers, the obscene pastels, this is the Easter egg that true insanity birthed.
when the doors close numb behind you
when the keys jammed deep into the locks
when they turn
where now are the Guardians?
soon enough, I suppose, I will forget the color of the sky & the sound of birds will be as foreign as the laughter.
even I, before that morning hallway, was more comfortable in familiar psychosis.

the pools below me
carry secrets
of survival
the fish scatter, each too eager to announce my arrival
& here they are before me w/clipboards, stethoscopes & egos that only God can merit.
they too want explanations for it all
these are scars
pink & white that wont rub off w/water each more devious & delightful than the other.
perhaps just a pill and Ill be on my way
is no answer that will save me now
they smile

Im here now
w/the carnival freaks
I am a madman now too
no longer do my words or denials do me any good

seize my belt, my shoelaces, & save me from quick death & broken neck over the bedroom door!
seize the natural glass, the knives, the forks, the metal in the beds, the photos, the notes, the cigarettes, the telephone cord, and every last smile!
leave me to collect my tears & hallucinations for playmates.

I marvel at the gang
the inclusive bunch of rejects from normal today & tomorrow & next year
I see it all w/all three eyes

I see the disgusted Mexican w/his clich facial tattoos and overall bewilderment,
the sloppy, obese who was stricken w/Downs Syndrome & everyone he has met has been ten times or more,
the freckled teen w/the mind of puppy who makes shit-pies in the shower & masturbates on command from fellow crazies,
the pro-nazi stoner w/rub-burn acne tracks who would drag the kittens behind his bicycle laughing w/a broken cackle,
the child who lites fires to homes & questions why it is wrong,
the rebellious ghetto boy w/the giant afro who threw all imagination into his ghetto-dance, at whim.
my friends in solace,
the group of imaginary deviants drumming their own drums in this confusion stadium.

III

there are plenty of drugs to keep the screams away.
give me all colors, all reasons, check beneath my tongue, upon examination youll miss the room in my throat where they hide.
I have millions of cures lodged in various cavernsjust waiting to explode.

now you see the dreams


IV

when I race from the room screaming, Ive seen the beast!
who snuck inside while I slept, jumped up, and tore the head off the black boy.
he lurked in corners, swear to God, and just waiting to feast on me when he goes undiscovered for yet another evening.

when I see Hitlers son
standing upright on the black iron wallarms outstretched like he is the martyr Christ & takes bullets in his head and weve all been taught a lesson about those who try and run.

when the grand piano plays over montage:
the retarded sprout green horns from their foreheads, the Asian nurse puts my head against her stomach to stop the crying, I wear a rainbow of bruises up & down the side of my body, the crystal angel slides me love notes in the kitchen, they bring in the real angel in chains & whispering w/the eyeliner that will sneak its way into many poems of the future, the blonde quiet poet actually escapes bound for Florida by train who they shall never catch, girl w/disease & name like the Mexican drink explodes maniacal in the evening playroom, I stick spoons down into my stomach & lose the weight of a small child in a week, the gangster has his fingers broken in a fit of poolroom jealousy, the pervert nurse molests the two screaming girls & walks away w/a grin, the freckled one runs nude & wet thru the dayroom flinging rags of shit at the guards, I jerk off in the dark room thinking of the red-head nurse outside, the giant writes love notes to marijuana, I smell rug-burns on the backs of my hands, shes punished for hiding cookies, so many cigarettes in a weekend, a vision, an art, oh yeah, oh yeah, the mountains are growing,

V

she showed me her tits in the privacy of the school room & told me that someday we
would fuck the sickness away & be two happy people
but for now we remain the dull, drugged, teens speaking useless prophecies that will
stick forever to the ears of nobody who cares.

VI

its only afternoon
when they strap me down to check for the swamp scars that must be so abundant that they can see them in my eyes
make way for the plastic lobotomy!
I hear saxophonesshooting melodrama thru the hrs.
I am not alright.
Ive floated quickly by my epitaph & straight into obscurity
its all over, that I must have told everyone for years.
sure, Ill stumble out into the light sometime after the year begins still watching Octobers shadow lurk
beware of the memories that Ive traded for booze..

some of the worst poems will go unwritten
in their absence.

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go see Martini, fool.