Gene is the blind homeless man in City Hall Park who asks for your nickels and dimes while really expecting a single. At five 'o clock, he packs away his cardboard sign and folds up his walking stick before changing into his sunglasses and adorning his iPod. Sometimes he stops to grab a coffee before he returns home.

What I meant to say is that we're not smart, anymore. Not intelligentsia. Not eidetic. Not prodigies, but prodigal, maybe.

If you want the truth, I live with drug dealers. But they're good people, really.

Today, the words of my prose peered past their parasol and plump painted lashes and said to me...

"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by ."

"Captions. Food labels. Dioramas. Encyclopedia entries from 1988. The Bible - for a quick flashing decade before all the shine rubbed off of its tight binding. Did I mention food labels? Many of those. Few postcards, since I don't know many travelers..."

"...Regardless, we were staring at a couple's tongues while you told me that your dad once swallowed a goldfish in college." / 'Wait, what'"

"I am a very loud person in a mute person's body..."

"Hit me, he says. I don't believe in fear... Kiss me, he says. A mouth can make things...Leave me, he says, before this body catches up with its rendered services, and I'm gone."

Should you find yourself in forced conversation with an angel, it's best to put it to sleep

"because I never talk about it / because I only call on Sundays / because I believe in the god particle that conducts the masses of lesser particles out of sheer law and pre-eminence..."

A series of poems from formal courses, workshops, brain melts, and daily commutes after moving to New York City in 2008.

short

The rough length of the spade scraped Jon’s hands as he increased his force, driving the spade deeper into the hard, compact ground and then swinging it over his shoulder. Night sounds surrounded his work as the hours went by. Six feet came and went.

Looking up toward the sea in the sky, in the white blue haze of a dream, everything drifts. For a long while I stare up into its great white eye and just think about it, thinking it into inconsequence.

Atmospheric pressures always change in a graveyard when someone dies.

Something to his right, Eddie thinks at first, then it must be the trash bags lining the abandoned liquor store beside Marcus’ apartment house. But, no. It's a dog, actually. A dead dog, lying on top of the trash bags."

You pathetic son of a bitch, get out of the bed. Remove the sheets, stand up, remain upright. There you go: one step closer to tapping into the human part of your primordial brain. As guilty and needful as you are, you are a Man.

The Median City educators of Median, Illinois are trying to devise the course curriculum for the upcoming year. The Question: should English students be challenged with one book per year or two? Oh, the challenges of Regents Level education. Satire piece

a short abstract piece again...about people who are so dumb that they always want to think they're in pain

short, abstract piece of mindvomit that could fit into this box

sounds like paramorebayside: if you've been a screwup up until this point, why not give it a go now with what you've got left: 'if anything, then we'll live too hard'

oops, look we wasted our potential

or It's Better for the Quiet Kid to Write This Song Than to Bring a Semi to School So Don't Hate Me

Social Anxiety Disorder is defined as...[i spent my whole day in bed again...]

stay good, you're all good kids,' goes the phony advice that's not meant to further any one of us but you

....we've yet to find all gods are gone.... a.k.a. i've been watching too many movies about social reformers

Why, Hullo again bags...You've been absent from my eyes so long...It's pleasant to see you back

tonight our good port, sir lies at the bottom of the sea [this isn't antiBush at all]

I guess I owe you an explanation for never calling you back to the trenches [i've been listening to too much bayside]

you made hitting bottom look like it meant depth

the mass collection of my songs, please don't be turned off by all the chapters, the beginnings all pop stuff anyway. as far as a real summary, summarizing my songs? these stupid words? screw that.

this is your first time caring about someone other than yourself in a long time, hun

don't you look so happy in your home

you find it way too easy to see me and i've lost control with you

the weak will never be coddled like this, so consider this a dream "she's just trying to be beautiful" / "how poetic)

preserving thoughts helps pinpoint the exact moment of insanity

the first people to see this didn't understand it at all, but i'm hoping more people here know what carbon monoxide poisoning is. :)

Prompt at PoetSanctuary: What would you do if you could see yourself in 10 years? Would you like what you see?

i found it from last year and it scared the hell out of me, so i thought that was good enough reason to post it. it's a twisted and possibly non-sensical love story with an impromptu ending probably because class ended. Enjoy!

"These places are where all the different kinds of truths fit together as nicely as the parts in your Daddy's solar watch."

The Life Adventures of Broken Boy and Broken Girl: Because Broken Boy + Broken Girl = Semblance of a Whole

r&r ...an eating disordered person who, by the way, IS dying every day

See that? That girl? That boy? That's called lovely

Really horrifying half rap/Half song, sing-song melodies

MUHAWHAWHAWHAWHAW Here's a thing of beauty Ladies and Gentlemen, right here!

Part one in the "Saving You" series: Meet Jonathon James Ralleigh. See into his thoughts about leaving his wife and child, and kick yourself for liking him so damn much.

"I want to be special because I know I'm not"

They’ll watch your back. You’re one of them now. You’re their FAMILY... But if they don’t kill you the cops will. Welcome to TROY

Give me one fucking day

What possessed me to do it, god only knows. All I know is that in first entering the Tennessee State Penitentiary, it came to me that I was in for an experience I never even knew existed, let alone could I be prepared for.

The myths and the truths of the reign of King Tut.

He’d reached the desperation point. He was past thinking about the repercussions. He was to think now, and act later. Then...He was finally forced to think

A mortician learns that life isn't all about death(as of now only the intro but chapter 1 soon)

DISCONTINUEDThe lights have been out for 11 hours-or is it 11 days? Is mankind's dependency on technological luxury the end of mankind? Seven people will find out...

YOU'RE WRONG! All those sweet little bedtime stories you've heard, no, they're lies. You want the truth? Click that little thing above...come on, you know you want to

I never tried changing my life before, why now? What's wrong with eating out of dumpsters and wearing clothes from people's garbage?I'm here aren't I? I'm living right? Given what I just did,there better be something more. Or like them, I'll dissolve