Old Poetry

I was browsing through a backup CD of mine and came across a bunch of my old poems. I might as well throw them up here.

Here’s one called “conceited monkeys”.

the yellow bellied
underbottom that
moves me
to consume.
fabrics of threads
and stranded.
together as many
broken, untwirling
is the
sum of
addictive additives
floating in that
food that we eat;
we consume like
locusts in packs
of packed pack rats
like so many,
so many,
oh so many concieted monkeys.
Damn this human race!


Oooh, I can be so moody.