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i'm too high to do anything

but i've clipped my toenails to morrissey

'my favorite album of the year so far' is 'dear god i hate myself'

it was ok

I sat alone some of the time

I sat with people some of the time

I looked at a shampoo bottle

http://angeladevi.tumblr.com/

german postcard

hemp scented body lotion

not sure what i was going to do

Hemp body lotion

Secretly part of me has always wanted to try cocaine, but I just couldn't imagine sniffing anything up my nose. It seems like that would hurt.

Halle Berry

brrrrrrrrrr

just ate too fast

+

part of a poem by michael sambar has been published at http://www.readsomewords.com

i wish i had a picture of us to put here

O lord

if i was the poet i want to be i would be different

a vision of ginsberg's 'essence' but with a different face in blue in my head

a vision of myself in bed where i can see my breath in the air

a vision of myself in a sweater and american apparel underwear setting up a camera

a vision of myself on mushrooms on my knees and on my elbows in the shower feeling rhythmically 'bukowski's' 'judgment' or like 'what would bukowski be thinking and doing in my situation' and being so sick of myself that i almost threw up

a vision of myself feeling the same thing with 'zachary german' instead of 'bukowski' but in a different situation in a different part of the year

a vision of myself eating onion rings with homemade salsa and then having a cigarette on the porch, not drinking a beer but drinking a dr. pepper

think about a confused eagle flying over a digital representation of people stuttering

"i need to get out of here"

i guess a vision of myself at a computer at night watching a .gif of black waves wash over themselves repeatedly for a long enough time that i think something is slowly changing and i try to convince myself of this for a while

a vision of a person trying to be friendly with other persons

think about a confused eagle on an air treadmill

things like that

999

O lord, what is my problem

O lord, I just want to find my car keys

O lord, you left me here after sixth grade

O lord, I pushed the 0 button before the shift and o combination, had to delete it

O lord, I remember some things too well

I remember the retarded kids the best

that and my parents using my old t shirts and underwear as rags to clean things





O lord, I've thrown up in buckets meant for popcorn or leaks in the ceiling

O lord, my hands smell like my mouth like a song

O lord, my dreams are uncomfortably hot

this is the best I can describe it

O lord, philosophically I'm an asshole

when I played basketball, one of the big criticisms of my game was that I didn’t play as big as I was

another was that I was a pussy

very spiritual

1

I eat like a bird almost

I have this discipline of treating everything equally / not always, almost always

it's just like music / I attack a water bottle of vodka and drink it like it’s a water bottle of cold water

but I never hallucinated which is very close to being blind

the best I could describe it

something that does or does not always happen / I guess

I used to call it "democratic"



2

unlike southern militias, southern artists are primarily considered poets / essentially, or, lyrically

a visual side of America, overdone or something, rotting of the idea

woke up wrong / for the public

these visions, all terrible, basically coming from the same place / 50's, 60's, 70's

a beauty and strangeness to Piggly Wiggly, the old Kroger, the colors / dead from drinking, for a little bit, psychotherapy, things like that

I might love it, but I don’t know