Tuesday, February 17, 2015


what is poetry
is it supposed to be beautiful?
what ISN'T beautiful?
it's all in the shit of the beholder

i ate cake just now
but i was sloppy with my bite
and the cream smeared around my lips
and i saw myself as this sloppy cake-eater
that's tozan, folks
elite as it gets
eating cake with poor motor control .


i wish i was a slut
for just 1 day

sluts are jubilant and scantily clad
sluts don't philosophize
sluts are all hips and ass and necks and smell like 8 kinds of crap
sluts just banged around
like rotting sea bone

 my man-dip could be like a Popsicle
for powdery candy girl-mouths
they just lap at it absent-mindedly
the way the ocean laps at a dock
why is my little stick so hidden
it's the area 51 of sex


tozan sits at 3AM at a low table
nothing is going on


tozan's watery grave

i want to be fabulous like a bomb factory
i want to be like the smoke from a ferarri's tires
i want to be the sex kitten viewed through a peep-hole
i want to be the bang of a temple drum

eyes like the large hadron collider
like hanging out with dwarf generals
losing your wallet inside a whorehouse
and being too ashamed to return

tozan who burned all his bridges
now it's just murky expanses of sea

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