• anarchy at berKeley
    prose

    slugs of ivory

    romanticize the rosy lens / d rebellion n marKet the subculture of defiance . resist authority cloaK / d as guidance ; manipulative gateKeepers of the antiquated patriarch of old money . they wouldn ‘ t listen to your squeaKy throat / d , childish objections . regretfully , the elevated heights of their ivory tower didn ‘ t stimulated your crude voice into a deepen / d maturity , yet . they hear you , but still don ‘ t listen . they yell louder w / high – mind / d confidence booming w / intellectual supremacy . script / d vernacular of oppositional ideology that maKes them…

  • prose

    seagull

    one leg / d seagull lays on the fallen lamp post beside the trash bin in the empty parKing lot of a lost n forgotten rest stop on the long n stretch / d highway that leads nowhere n everywhere both at once n not at all . home . the seagull waits for the pecK / d scraps to drop behind the trash bin w / the snapping lid that bit his web /d leg clean off . it ‘ s still hanging there , wilt / d liKe a dried up worm in the hot prairie ‘ s sun . follow n liKe bj draKe

  • creamy
    prose

    when inspiration winks

    when inspiration winKs , it ‘ s liKe masturbating ; you turn the lights out n learn to go w / it . commit w / o a safety word n no pause . you don ‘ t know when it ‘ ll winK . chances are , it will come when the hi – def camera slowly zooms into ( in – to ) a scruffy butthole . it ‘ ll pass , right ? focus , bro , on his scruffy butthole b / c it ‘ s coming . fucK . fucK . fucKery . winK . maKe art n get out w / half of a chew…

  • fishbowl
    prose

    wedding ring

    a few months ago , we went on a biKe ride at the river . we stop / d by a shallow , shaded creeK so my daughter could dip her warm n pudgy toes . i tooK off my bicycle gloves to play w / her n have a snacK . later , i was telling a lively story w / my hands when i felt liKe something was missing . i had lost my blacK wedding ring ! fucKery ! it must ‘ ve slip / d free when i tooK off my gloves to play in the water ! my fingers are sKinny n the ring was…

  • wise
    prose

    recompense

    my lower chaKras were balanced n buzz / d by binaural beats n psilocybin mushrooms when a stranger ‘ s voice gently remind / d me that ” the fleshly vessel can accomplish greatness only once it surrenders  ” n he shh / d his insight n explain / d no further as i melt / d into a Karnapidasana pose . three heavy hours later , w / my crown chaKra illuminated n unclutter / d , i limberly tip toed pass / d a mirror when that same voice – no longer strange – was jilt / d w / me for not pondering his riddle n so…

  • bored
    prose

    bored

    she stared out the window n mumbled how brave i had been for quitting my job . ” brave ? ” i asK / d w / my eyebrow cocK / d , ” you know i hated that job . “ ” yeah ” she replied w / a shrug liKe we ‘ re supposed to hate our job . ” that made it easy . “ ” well , ” her necK twisting to remonstrate w / me , ” i could never do that . “ ” quit something you hate ? “ ” i guess , ” she sigh / d . i tsK / d . ”…

  • prose

    blacK mirror/d

    the junKy’s dorito greased fingertips slid thru Instagram n he splutter/d “ at least it’s not heroine . ” I destruct/d FacebooK long ago . my addiction simply cracK/d it’s necK n found a fresh vain . i wiped instagram clean . it became a bored exercise of an arthritic thumb . n the advertisements made it less punK . i’m not quitting b/c i thinK the platform is involved in some grandiose conspiracy to manipulate n indoctrinate n distract the log/d on, but liKely they are . the reason to struggle thru withdrawal ; simple … we’re swiping away the minutes of life scanning sponsored content n curated peeKs…

  • prose

    deflated

    the recess bell clang/d n the hallways flood/d w/sneaKers n bacKpacKs n granola bar wrappers, exit doors batter/d n bulged n burst thru, “the levy’s fail/d,” grunts, pufferfish n butterfly fish meander/d thru poky streams that puddled together to form festering mud pits. i saunter/d w/my soccer ball clutch/d closely n noticed Kids weren’t waiting for me the soccer ball, tossing ’round an ol’ pig sKin football instead, n they laugh/d at my “girls” ball n told me what to do to come join them. “no.” i trudged to the desolate tennis court n KicK/d the soccer ball flat. follow n liKe bj draKe

  • prose

    the voice

    from a faint whisper grew a harden/d n hateful voice that crawl/d from the bacK of my head n squat/d at the forefront of my mind n there he has rest/d since the inception of consciousness.  rent-free w / no chores . he squander/d his godliKe powers ; he couldn’t be bother/d n so i stay/d a lump of clay that slouch/d into itself . he was quiet , pretend/d to be dormant n sleep through my childhood . unconcern/d , he allow/d me to wander , naïvely thru the world that he hid from ; awaiting at home to criticise the adventure , later . he had fail/d in…

  • prose

    perfectionism

    * disclaimer *  due to personal failure / inability , this blog post has been automatically deleted by pre-enabled plug-ins that filter out all material that doesn’t meet the exaggerated standards set by bj draKe.  this blog post has violated pre-agreed upon terms of contract ( DELETE button has reached its usable limit – error code : 010 – 2742084 ) n will be terminated immediately . we apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused n time it may have wasted . sincerely , perfectionism . follow n liKe bj draKe

  • prose

    comfort . is . in . routine .

    you drove pass/d that warehouse every morning as mom drove you to school n now she drops you off there to worK . you wear a uniform n call it a career n no one is the wiser ? you’ve flush/d hope n potential down the same drain as vomit/d pabst blue ribbon n beef eater gin . the struggle of the artist has been replaced w / the suffocating stability of living cheque – to – cheque . just like dad said , ” comfort . is . in . routine . “   follow n liKe bj draKe

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