Entries by rushoffailure

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Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: toastmodern Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 22:27

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defectivejunk: toastmodern

proper nutrition, criminal ambition
radishes aren’t a part of life on the streets
no more schooling, no future physician
today’s teenage gangsters love sugary sweets

shooting your enemies, getting new scars
fucking skanky women and eating candy bars
dollar signs around your neck
adoring the shit and the grime and the dreck

calling up old friends, you gots to get paid
so some bitch’ll lay down to get laid
your procreation requires high tech
morals are meaningless when the world is a wreck

rocket launchers are cool and in vogue
the country run by an idiot rogue
while poverty and starving are
more common than shootings
the police harass people for illegal commuting

your children all want big guns just for shits
and everyone’s concerned more with bare tits

birds are singing, wind is blowing
rivers flowing, great herds growing
adaptation, animals knowing
annihilation, humanity’s going

mutation isn’t evolution
you can’t take care of yourselves

since those aliens have intelligence
that’s less than our porpoise
none of them freaks deserve
habeas corpus

just nuclear bombs
and clichéd turns of phrase

that sounds far too european
and I don’t even understand it

indifferent outrage for money and dollars
all politicians all sit on the fence
accusing adultery with lipstick stained collars
pissing your life away with blind ignorance

reality becomes reality tv
tv induces your mentality
never acknowledging the abnormality
of amoral morons’ immortality
but when they die, with no formality
they’re cast aside, frugal finality
technological banality

recycling people and ideas too
I ripped myself off, no idea’s new
screw through brew, too few grew
construe, askew, debut, adieu

boobies and nipples and
boobies and nipples and
big ass fuckin honkers

and no one ever changes
and no one listens to anyone else

and no one changes
so nothing changes
and so no one cares about anyone else

and so I don’t change
so nothing changes
and so I don’t care about anyone else.

honk honk

Labels: defectivejunk, toastmodern

Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: I am thinking about ... Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 22:25

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defectivejunk: I am thinking about work tomorrow

And when you lay awake at night, sometimes – not often, but sometimes – the thought of the next day becomes too much to bear. The agony of what the future holds – or could hold – gathers together. It forms little clumps of unbearable wisdom, fractalline crystals that bombard you.

When they collide, it is an explosion; a nightmarish chain reaction that tears holes in the fabric of space. You don’t know what is coming. But you know if what is coming is good or evil. You are playing Russian roulette with your thoughts.

Click.

Click.

Clllllllllllllick.

And sleeplessness follows.

Labels: defectivejunk, I am thinking about work tomorrow

Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: Slice Star Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 22:21

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tags: defectivejunk, slice star

defectivejunk: Slice Star

can't chance
a dance without pants

I love cheesy pizza, mother
do you love her genitals like her brother

slice up a star, slice up your eyeballs
looking at her fluidity, you can't have anything to drink

but you need part of her
just a bit

just a slice

these wrists were made for cuttin
that’s just what they do

so don’t give her no lip, don’t shoot from the hip
yours is a one-way relationship

she was famous
but you helped kill her
and one day they’ll kill you

a side order of death from hollywood
fried rice cakes, I made love to a snake

a picture, a concept
my lover that’s fake

if you believe in something, congratulations
if you're greeting me, salutations
live and make a light, go look for a fight

express kilometers in inches, pinch your enemy
listen to distance with headphones, no one is your enemy
your god is a giant beautiful
I got gone with a magazine, with a vengeance

ate a steak with a vegangeance

I am the slice star, I am king of the bleeding
my autobiography is now up on your bookshelf
I excel in conceding while my hairline’s receding
and I’m famous just for cutting myself

hear the silence, know that it’s true
listen to the gulf of fame that will always separate you

i might visit the princess and cause her
she wants me to spit on her items because her
daddy stopped doing it because of her flaws her
daughter is soon to become like what was her

get a girlfriend to kill you
in a drunken fast car wreck
and be famous like me or
buy a portion with your paycheck

writhing around on your nipples
silent, sparkling and beautiful
sleeping in shrubs, knocking on needles
the marshes shone brightly the reflection of her climax

I can’t have what she’s having

now you know it’s true
one of these days my wrists are gonna bleed

all over you

you’ll never be anybody there if you’re no more than a hack
the swamp’s a dirty place to earn a living on your back

you shouldn’t try, because you couldn’t take it
even she was so famous, and she still didn’t make it

the ooze's resignation, the boozer's recognition
you soon become what you always portray
and submission ambition only earns
your agent commission
once I tried to lick this all away

it was all in my head

the simulacrumbles into simulacrumbs

Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: it made sense Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 22:14

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defectivejunk: it made sense

At the time, it made sense. There was this British actor, and he was driving a car. On the wrong side of the road. Or was it the right side? I can't remember. It doesn't matter. The important part was the pack of VHS cassettes he had in his backpack. They were numbered, meticulously labeled. He liked order in his life. He wanted to at least keep track of his recorded shows. He deserved that much.

He went to take a drink of water but he spilled it on the dashboard. It turns out if he had a roll of paper towels there, he wouldn't have been electrocuted. Too bad his wife moved them. It was her fault. He left his mask at home. It was all her fault. I couldn't believe the insolence. Where she was drinking beer and frolicking among the roses. The rose bushes, they were beautiful and she loved to frolic among them. Now her husband was dead, and all because of a ski mask. She quietly turned the fan on high and went back to writing her novel.

She liked writing novels. It was a great escape. Her world was boring and trite now that her husband was dead and all she had to occupy her time was her mistress. She was growing tired of her. She was growing tired of people in general. People could be ever so tiring. Candy kisses and novels were all she needed. And air conditioning. She needed air conditioning year round for her asthma.

She had terrible asthma. She would cough and wheeze for hours. Luckily she had health insurance and it covered basically everything except her mental deficiencies, which were preexisting conditions and weren't covered under her basic insurance. She needed a better plan and she had no dental. If her husband was alive, he'd complain. He hated insurance. Car insurance, fire insurance, relationship insurance. He hated it all. Called it gambling. He hated gambling, except for his weekly game of poker. He loved poker. He had a passion for the game but hated other forms of gambling.

It was the strangest thing. He loved poker but he hated insurance. He sure was a strange man. He always seemed strange. People always thought he was strange. His wife even thought he was a little strange herself.

She thought about him to herself as she was reading her novel, reading the words about how the woman was being raped and killed in front of her family. She wondered where her husband was while she was lost deep in constructing the story. She had writer's block. So she was excited about that night. Her mistress was coming over and she was planning on incorporating that night's events into her novel. She liked writing novels. It was a great escape.

Labels: defectivejunk, it made sense

Monday, February 4. 2008

atricktoit Posted by rushoffailure at 21:52

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atricktoit

atricktoit has been updated.

Labels: atricktoit

Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: self singularity Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 21:44

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defectivejunk: self singularity

I wonder if old ladies with vivid blue hair
remember the works of Upton Sinclair

I wonder if they thought he was weird, crazy,
or even fashionably debonair

I wonder what people from history would do
if we brought them forward in time

if they would praise our technology or
decry civilization as debauchery and crime

against humanity would resume anew
when the hundred year old lepers still desire to screw

laugh now but in a few years you’ll think better
when Britney Spears gets engaged to Art Linkletter

so I wonder if we brought Andrew Carnegie forth
if he would refer repeatedly to the North

or take a road trip in a horseless carriage, how quaint
to see all his libraries he did so generously donate

so everyone who lives after he died would think him a saint
his portrait’s made of his workers’ blood, not paint

they couldn’t really eat but at least they could read
and such an old school Reaganomicsist we so desperately need

give a hoot, read a book, and just say no to minimum wage laws

so would they kill the minorities or set off the bombs
or just wonder where all the flying cars have gone

would they hate modern poetry for not trying to rhyme

or would their mere presence break holes in time

Labels: defectivejunk, self singularity

Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: MADSAD FIVE'S EPILOGUE Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 21:28

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defectivejunk: MADSAD FIVE'S EPILOGUE

Shadows of a hand
Touching itself -

I end where I begin

One day I sat, I just sat and watched time pass by. It was something I usually did and I was doing it again; I watched the trees and the students walking past and just wished that I was part of the scene; the endless scene that occupies the nights and hides in secret smiles during the day; and one day I stumbled along a twenty six foot high black ice cube, and time stood still, and everyone disappeared

and I tried to climb it and it welcomed my presence; but when I had reached the top I realized I was climbing the wrong direction and I was on the other side of the universe; and suddenly everyone was in the negative and the sky was magenta and the sun shined bright cyan into my dark yellow eyes and I passed through everyone passing through and time sped up and it was bittersweet because now I could observe everyone without being observed but I was on the opposite of the

my earliest memory is of waking from a dream as a young child and being forced out of bed to meet someone I would end up hating well I realized what I didn't realize was that the feeling was the same, I fell through the earth, down in a direction that isn't up or down or left or right but it's there, I fell through the landscape into a one to one landscape that might replace this one someday, I was back under the neon landscape just as I had been in those days and I sat and I watched and I spent the hours inside my head and everyone passed through me with no regard, no regard at all I was back in a three story hospital house with the biggest living room you've ever seen and a black and white tv and so many so many cracks in the walls and I don't know why I did it but I did it and there I was and the void opened and I saw myself staring back at me on the other side, I'm not sure if I'm him or he's me but now I know we're out there so I can never rest, I stay up until 3 in the morning and I don't rest I don't sleep and I don't dream I just see myself in the ether, the ether,

the ether

cracks in the walls, I can feel them and they're breaking open, the strings, the ties that bind, they're falling ever backwards and their health is on my shoulders and they're falling apart and I'm falling apart and now I know that when they finally fall apart and the void attacks that I'll remain whole, when everyone else is gone I'll still be here and I'll still be on my own, insomnia, always on my own, doing what has to be done even after nothing is intact, even after the nothing isn't intact, doing what has to be done, that's why I'm here, now I know that's why I'm here. So what I don't know right now is if this side is the real side or the other side is the real side or if both sides are real and I'm the only one that knows it but I don't know which side I'm on anymore, good evil or both so even though I know what's going to happen I don't know how to get there but I thought you had a right to know in advance, so all I wanted you to know is that

I've defected

Labels: defectivejunk, MADSAD, MADSAD FIVE'S EPILOGUE

Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: gateway to your death Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 21:26

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defectivejunk: gateway to your death

His daughter took the key from him
and said why did you steal my
life away from me and he responded
in kind with a purple ax
to her face but then forgot that he killed
the wrong daughter so he
buried her with her scissors behind the
tool shed, out by the lake,
so everyone would find her body
and the ghost of Christmas past
lingered in the air
watching everything that went on while listening
to his favorite Phil Collins album you know
that one with that one
song, not that one the other
one and the old man was standing
next door reflecting in the
moonlight seeing everything hearing
everything and understanding nothing
as he was prone to do his
consciousness was a curse
as was his ignorance and his lack of
opposable thumbs stopped him
from visiting the discount mall
down the road to purchase
toothbrushes at rock bottom prices
and he knew it was all his neighbor's
fault that his lungs did not
exist and he couldn't taste
the sweet aroma of corn flakes in the
morning through the cold steely
chromy taste of red plastic
garden hoses and the checkerboard furnace
he was being
tortured in

Labels: defectivejunk, gateway to your death

Monday, February 4. 2008

defectivejunk: disconnecting Posted by rushoffailure in defectivejunk at 21:23

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defectivejunk: disconnecting

(living angry and walking scared /
seeing red and turning yellow)

if you can't remain silent turn into a liar,
don't preach to the choir,
pretend you are at ease
one day you'll be alone,
no one you admire
left to hear your pleas

when you realize what you've done
you'll be old and life is gone

but for now
just for now

don't let go of the disease

Labels: defectivejunk, disconnecting