Epic, Finished.

By: Kristoffer Paul Denoyer A three saint act the four man band By: A thinker not much of a drinker had my fill before departure tho last week I was called a stinker a down-syndrome man, I slept in the kitchen Had to be up early in the morn'in Once having, "no plans no dates No appointments with anybody" Just "Leisurely exploring Souls and Cities." Fuck it all, fuck being a dirty word but oh so clean in the running mouth game That's where poetry makes a play, "Climbed K2 and napped in purple haze by lakes edge intoxicating wilderness starring deep into the glass -gotta get my ass outta heresomething about the looking glass pushed the limits, dear LORD help these benevolent spirits A wink A call We're move'in on." A passing glance no whittling Just preaching no soap box either just my ivory tower

peering that goes on and on & ON into the Midwestern kinsman of the sun weary teary eyed travelers pristine obscene "tea" drinkers tho very willing jumping thru tea fields burning em' with bridges with many past canaries preying on the infinite praying for the infinite OH! owning the finite! yet... Never stood so tall in the white chasm nothing parchment void catechism a loley speckled twilight my russian bride had her way with me finding the perfect cell, leaving off the vast mass in time. never too far from the door. casting into nothing, feeling a rhythm a rhyme this brisk chill through the spine please, take a drink, a big swig if you will hemmingway coursing thru pores this moment injected in vaines! will you understand this grand gesture or shall it be gone, gone with the wind? lingering bum sleeps the dishes must be done waiting on and on & ON Rolling on & on and ON Promising one thing & one thing alone I will leave you some day, I can't say when. Twas a prophecy foretold and it's said, one can speak in tongues

even hold each gift divinely given. I wish for all my children a gift of the prophet whom never resounds as clanging gongs. Read it in a fortune once found in a book that was pieced together from cookies which came from the west ... perhaps even the east, it's a fine line from one to the next. "I'm 25 and haven't a bastard child." Rambln' on too much long winded verses IF the true words cum they'll lay simple No cheesy - sentimentality sometimes I'm simple, but sentimental. " Live fast, DIE young Live slow, DIE old either way Hoping I lived." as for THE PROPHECY FORETOLD -----------------------I've moved on and free! Free as a bird free Free no underwears free flop where I like commando free! bottle of wine free fresh joint twilight night free wildly running morning hour riverbed dreaming freedom st. francis mid summers dream mellow haze preaching to birds free shallow as the stream maybe my heart beats this joy an ocean deep Took the train to the cityscape new hip couples, narratives included on the bumper draped afghan wear, so trendy so different makes no difference NPR, equality now, make love not war I made out just a moment ago "Dude, megaladon that broad!" physical bracelet buddhist beads, expensive watch.

do what we want, as we will can't you tell? a young flowering couple handcuffed together that's my stop! regarding today what I want isn't necessarily what I need what I need isn't what I'll be who to blame who to blame "Recklessly young - Restlessly old" When did the hour strike when did the hands fold down where was it time settled so where was I where was I this man in the mirror starring back at me just me, only me "restlessly old - recklessly young" sharing comforts of despised comforts embraced all strange and terrible uncomfortable things so it goes, it's the devil I suppose but it matters so much to me -pondering these man-made constellationsgoing to a party as a viewer watching a movie with a projector rarely an actor, just an instigator ominous prospector "for when I do nothing, nothing does." When I try to run I fall if I walk I go nowhere when I drink, I'm never drunk when I'm dunk, I never drank if I blink, I've fallen asleep

if I've slept I had only blunk I'm full when I've eaten I haven't eaten in days I go to see twilight tho it's mid-morning when I do It's never evening anymore, night has passed me my holy script carved clean, the flask chalked full this typewriter says more than I, not sure I've said anything at all blacked out there... my lids open, I'm vision heavy the mind is weary from the unseen dreams I've seen too many nights darkness prevailed, I lay orphaned washed up on the land I've blown upon my cohort pleads and pleads sanity if he's my best I'm not far So we sat out smoking freezing ceaselessly drinking couldn't bare the inside he couldn't bare your insides it's six in the morn still smoking drinking coffee couldn't bare yr thinking need an eye opener it's eight in the morn pour out another and this rolls on and on & ON ceaselessly on and ON &on... "Will you ever pass on?" PFFT! My epitaph? fuck that mess be rest assured, it's full proof he's a skeletal structural man

no meat, Nor flesh bounce to the next couldn't careless wait, I could Go tell it on the provocative accounts of men with sought holes between wholes "get rid of your bone" & Go moan alone on my behalf I've my own mess Not givn' in for less Gettn' between her lines isn't necessity from Birth. Fuck, that mess my epitaph? disturb not such bones -considering anything-I've lost everythingyet, for eternity... gained absolutely NOTHING for all it's worth be rest assured, "I'm happy." In any sense of arbitrary can't arbitrarily use arbitrary such conceptions sprung from existence they had to be there for the sake of yr own In which more can linger on with arbitrary cognition Dammit! Did it again... fruitless nerd, I sold out drove to west texas passed thru Coloradah Made it to Denver traded snow for snow Michigan was slow Arkans-ass Tex-ass

Nebraska-ass Bring on the noise of corn-hole home. cruisn' the back roads fightn' Russian probes briskly on the move, pushed onward Alaska! I hope second hand smoke doesn't kill ya yr droopn' old girl Arlo's shirtless, sal's makin' a windowed mess Doodln' while drivn' turn'n bends and curls of curves of girls nothin' new comparisons are odious. but what's happening now is in the clear truly shared. "Can't bear thoughts of mortality." "I'll be lucky to make it even 4 years more." "By chance or hands of yr own?" "Who knows, if ones foolish enough." "Boy is that us!" Keep up those tunes... Seems ages ago, lives ago measures back. We played our songs of conf-angled mess. Hours poured, souls turned confessions on consoled breasts. Holy baptizing experience "nothings a waste." "It's all pointless, a masochists game." "He's a nihilist." epitome waiting for tombstone slates. across the street from liquors exquisite hut, happy go lucky sign depot, where all sign needs are met. And we meet and met and yet are met once again with brewed coffee lit smokes those native american blend, a delight. When Alaska broadened our view, she was new grew complacent, what is it with us and revelations? Now it's all askew! dying tunes to others perhaps all we knew

Forensic state, in lieu of past abuse. such malice must be subjected as prosthetic abandonment must be true. friends have died on they're dying all the time while my whores have left me at 7th and desolation row called my bluff reading st. john of the cross it wasn't enough does this debauchery know no bounds? No. Now, twist no facts to suit theories find theories to suit facts. A grand scheme solving the questioned fall life of st. christoffer reached minus the ferry river crossing wasn't tortured by demons curiosity took care of that one tying & tying a plight to Thee, "have mercy on me" thoughts stray, positive to negatively, like that *snap* my neck when the day came burdensome thoughts weighted heavily. Dear brother, comeback & maybe I'll come back too. Glimpses & cracks here and there, we can be whole too. Sure have missed you, dear brother. Don't call myself a poet, I don't like most poets. Irony, yes indeed. what joy in writing poetry, Love & hate entangled mess structure structure structures something about words in three's at times, they , these poems or prose, have no flow in thought much like my thoughts scuffled rowdy fights it seems

"While on the third day!" on the 7th we rest please have mercy on us, oh lord. Confessions of a saint "it's one thing I ain't" a pig testified on such whereabouts no one would of thought praying? who me? nah mang. back in the day inhaling caffeine & nicotine if any luck it'll bring clarity. still haven't seen a buck so upped the ante stockn' up the pot of good kharma to counter act the other. being clever has been B A D for my health Simply that I hope to be only a G O O D man and nothing else "What's wrong with that? No, pompous is not a goal. I just wish to be good. there's no good nor bad... What about the conscience? Well, in the matter of the conscience the mass has no say sure quoted Gandhi. OH, what a deed you did False-self corrupts absolutely a true self can take a bit more energy, maybe. never measured such things they say truth can set you free. Let freedom ring. Unlike the ring you wear where you've strived for power. the will to power in this hip culture Missing the Dirty-D days capital A-Americone dream making a buck, busting ass town shinning glittering truthful by night lights

daylight never as fruitful you've become the anti-hero, muh boy. there was so much more instore. Unceasingly praying Constantly smoking onward down the road (PAUSE) In need of a drink, how refreshing. wishing to convey a story thru folk never worked out. A dylan, I am not. tho, this seems to be working out. I write to get it down. something on paper. no lessons, just me and my story. somtimes a bit of whiskey, but no always. not as much as you'd think, I write more sober anymore. jotting such for myself and my brother. (On with the SHOW.) Reaching an all time low about a year ago. those women & our lustful woes. twice in a row! what a bitch... didn't last long. We met again. what is it? A decade now? Brother's in arms. DIVINITY ALRIGHT As the tides change my constant friend always changing keeping a lovely never boring constant. Our shared choice of poisons. until we pull a DEAN & SPLIT wake up unpleasant *snap* break our backs or slip out the back. An obvious choice. "If a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound?"

"OF course it does, if vibrations are simply sound waves in transfer, our brains alter." "You missed the entirety of the question. One hand clapping." "One man flapping! there's more than one answer to any given question. If I left you in the woods would you keep talking?" "This is absurd." Absurdity, lovely & all I wish to know the unknown the penrose ascend - Descend My illusion my illustration Sisyphean nature Am I a narcissistic?

NARCOTICS! Won't touch on that one seemed the only way to go. dawn strikes at the bone to the core of the soul not concerned with the abyss anymore, in any formmm... ow. my liver pains me. what poison shared. blissful sleep never occurs now, I sleep peaceful fast forward in time alive and well, big city blues wind not dawn strikes deep down into the bones & bed of my soul. A liar. Everyone knows it History catches up in ways you'd never know they sense it, management types. Bless em'. Got no proof. Got no use. departure inevitable said it before say it again. It's me'rely a matter of time. Have you heard what they say about limes? wait, lemons. something about bad days and lemonade

I'd prefer limeade or a cocktail. If being a good man doesn't work out I might as well become a criminal or the very least a shut in. Pull a Thoreau never speak again. Just die with regret alone trying & dying are synonymous for my vocabulary. I must have been built in a lab... So similar yet so different. seeing all these working, happy "complacent" people the pain kicks in. Realizing oh how I loathe only myself Will I ever succeed in the world today? Probably not. Lifetime isn't near long enough. if I'm reincarnated, I'd forget it all anyhow. Too much bad kharma if you believe in that. my pillars crumbled long ago, what a mess So depressed Pulse moves with breezes like the loosing child father, I've done no good cracking raging eternal flames love or not, still lost ought not fight it for nought is all returned my russian friend speaks, "Fuck eet all." All encompassing liturgical copper eyed mystic lysergic copper eyed misery optimistic copper eyed dynasty pessimistic copper eyed failure burning forever in time burnt past present & future Is there a point? "Always keep your head toward the sunlight for shadows will always fall behind." Whit

Wish I could Must be 2 suns I got 2 shadows or I'm 2 people. that damn moonlight haunting midnight shadows engraved burning visions leaving deposits of copper. Gentlemen, I have little respect for myself but the most profound love in survival Can't sit too long with folded arms too much boredom. Madness prevailed often trouble's not insight can't brew-ha-ha any up Invent it. create it nurture trouble and it'll blossom oh, absurdity of absurdities! been moaning and picking at my wounds such crafty clever moans perhaps why they'll keep dis-banning tired of the grey blinding veil no one hides as well as I crazier than the crazies drinking despite the liver the poison going nowhere excreting it where one can. "a man of consciousness, can he have the faintest respect for even himself?" echoing words there's me and my shadows the real me the ghostly night moonlight me an' the shadow cast in names sake me my name will be the burden to end it. I must be a narcissistic "I'm horrible at keeping friends." "Well," he spoke, "It's part of being crazy."

Where shall this son of man rest his weary head? This sin ridden body as the sun rises my brothers my sisters shall we face in our sought directions rays of light beaming down on new days new mistakes new loves and correct turns as night falls twilight glistens upon weary burdened souls new lives new days shall soon arise shadows shall linger on but right here & now is real and true Dont worry for tomorrow todays worries are enough dont go gently into that light dont dim into the night. Let go