Archive for February, 2017

America 2017, #5, “My Dedication to the Good Failed Too Many times”

They warned me —

Behave, man, do not

scream at the

drunks when you’re

drunk, maintain your head, or we’ll

paint and board you up.



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I Remembered It All When I Saw His Face While I Walked by the Airport Newstand


I gave in, all the

way, blinked at

years of grim

self-absorbed hate, but I’m not

much better today.


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America 2017, #4 – Cackling Steeples

Crown darkens

forges impressions,



laughing at insanity,

squashing my tiny mind.



More Dystopia Today from Carl the Amateur.

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Take a Look in the Mirror – Meditation on Mean People Pushing Their Big Carts Around at Costco

I see self,

but this moment, I’m

so oddly

kind, gentle,

I know that inside of me

is meaner than they.

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Another Day, When After the Fireworks, I Knew I Was Worthless

You looked through

the windows blocking

my soul, tres-

passing, vi-

olating love, wiping the

thought, trashing heaven.



Not-so-dystopian today, amateur Carl’s repossessed America. America 2017 #3.

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America 2017, #2, Digging Empty Channels

When the cre-

vice maims my confi-

dence, and ti-

ny beasts crawl,

raging against my peaceful

love, shadows kill me.



More Dystopia Today from Carl the Amateur

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I Try Not to Slip Away from Who I Want to Be


We fixed you,

made you modern.

What would the windows do

when you have aluminum?


And lines, old lines, tan split by old,

above-ground lines, split by a

telephone pole, hand-carved sitting

by the door that would not allow you in

unless you showed your whole face

in the tiny box.


Oh but we opened a nice front

on the side and more aluminum

and now there are sadly-ripped papers

glued and taped to that window,


that door and the painting

on the window

look so stale, as if to be dead.


We gave you plenty of spots

but you sit there with

empty slices of bored, and

sleepy gravel,

waiting for action,

waiting for

the brightness of the energy

we need. And then,


and then,

and then,

would you watch that concrete

on the front?


Did we fix you, old man, or what?

No more curves or gaps or carvings.

We gave you 50s slab,

and if you don’t like it,

bang your head against that slithery, slimy wall.


until you bleed,

and the aluminum

laughs at you again and again.




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Do You Know What Happens When Music Causes Great Joy? You end by…

Grabbing blaz-

ing bulbs afire with

super dogs

licking your

face, blowing cauldrons, bubbles

fizzing out your tops.

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I was crossing a bridge and someone was complaining about suffering

Life is suf-

fering, dodging, sink-

ing, but look,

that color,

swimming upstream, brightly na-

ked, sue me, kill me.

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America, 2016, Unnumbered, Crashing Crumbles Aboard My Late Train


from concrete, crumbles

spray grain dust,

curling light,

crushing spirits that fly, creeps

crimping my dead brain.




Yet another Dystopia Today shot from the amateur Carl in some very small town (somewhere hidden in the midwest) sometime late in the Summer of 2016.

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