It Ain't Easy Being Green

I'm an alien
floating above you in a a UFO
woooooooo-oooooooo-ooooooooo
I'll dazzle you
with my myriad lights all blinking,
a kaleidoscope of colors
making tracers, 
provoking seizures.

I'm an alien.
I live far away,
in the outer-reaches of the Milky-Way.
When I bend my tongue and move my mouth
to try and make words come out

all you hear are hear is noises like:

ooooooooh-woooooo-ooooooooo
ooooooooh-woooooo-ooooooooo.

I'm an alien.
I'm from far far way.
I'm an alien and I'll alienate you.

Kids These Days

Talking smack to kids.
Eating too much shit.
I don't want to talk to you again.

I'm not your mom, so don't try to suck on my tits.
And don't fuck with me kid.

Anarchy

Who is bathing in yellow street light,
drinking alcoholic juice from a plastic bottle?
No one who shaves daily.
No one who eats fucking yogurt for breakfast.
No one who bathes in water.

Nearly forty now?
Is someone keeping count?
Come from nothing go to nothing.
Nothing comes from nothing,
and in the middle, it's mostly cold, vomit, sweat and dog hair.

Is anarchy a god, or a crippled whore?
If the gears of society stopped tomorrow,
and the fat man quit spitting out crumbs,
would you curl up and die?
Or would you get nutrients chewing rocks and dirt?

Bukowski's Sun

I've been singing in public,
and drinking on weekdays.

Now weeping to love songs,
by melancholy poets.

Now turning th'other cheek,
and punching in noses.

Eschewing self pity,
I'm standing dumb, and ill-composed.

Bukowski's sun must be raging again
because I'm rending my clothes.

Spikey Stuff

Squishy stuff gets spikey
but only when I look.

I'm checking the time
and trying the lightswitch.

If I am sleeping then
I can mold the clay.
Am I molding it already?
Is it molding me?

I go to the consel to find out.

One button lights up the other
and that one lights up the first.

How can I turn them both off?

Breaking Path

If you had my luck you would understand
Stand mute in shock staring hard at your hands
Your monuments would crumble into dust
Your golden armor would cover in rust
Left alone light in horrible freedom
All in awe at vast chaotic kingdom
You would wake up every morning in dread
That ego too is waking in your head
Take heart my friend you walk the better road
Sing a cheery tune; enjoy your light load
Easy answers to all of those who wait
Continuing blind on the road of fate
Don't be sad for your path is never ending
Never look back, for my path is pending

Mule

I am Karma's mule
and she is leading me forward on a rickety cart,
cackling,
dangling the carrot of romance
just beyond my hungry muzzle.

My lust is tenacious as the Nile in June.
But all my romantic pursuits are stillborn
Filling fresh water with rotting flesh.

I must have been Humbert Humbert in my last life.
Or Heinrich Himmler.
Lolita, you must forgive me.
Six million Jews you must forgive me.