TOZAN SHEET #36 POEM FOR MILITARY CONTRACTORS

"You can't write poetry on the computer." -Quentin Tarantino

Anti-novelist
Anti-human
Anti-life
Anti-pages.

Drown
This is a progressive drownings
Let it wash over you & over & over
Putrifying literary ideas in the scum of those glossy-page journals wasted toilet paper pulp
Bring me your crinkly brown paper chapbooks with the poets cum smeared in
Bring me arterial plaque

Tozan doing red velvet lines off my macbook in preparation
spilling wine and coffee
And like once a month, semen





Tozan free rides kundalini penis pump 28th st. Fantasia silicone enlightenment lube bulb pineal gland eggshaped liminal rimbaud lightgland inner island

Filtered through a crystal mind or a smoke mind
We cast spells in the ice for a winter

It's gunna take me a minute to get back into this

I'm thinking about Schwarzenegger, how he got into fights every single day when he was juicing, in his heyday

The mechanism of power, and not in a James Hillman kind of way

Not in a Foucault kind of way
In a Remmington shotgun kind of way
In a Rinzai kind of way

Shove a neutron bomb up your ass, burn me at the stake for witchery way

Black herbs and sugar all over me.

I have more in common with military contractors than poets.

Tozan lathering his hands in cedar smoke.

Drinking sake and oil from dead stars.

Purifying.

TOZAN SHEET #28 - RUMI ON CRACK - DEATH WORSHIP - NANSEN'S CAT

far out there is field
and some other gay shit

 -rumi (abridged)



matching Day of the Dead earrings
y tu mama tambien

chugging cockfighter's ghost out of a sugar skull
ruminating on life and death
penetrating (heh) the heart of the matter

tozan, this is your accountant with RBC Bank, please call me when you get a chance
i would like to discuss the deposit of $1,400,000.00 
i think we should move this to the offshore accounts
i think you should invest in burning plastic

BURN IN HELL
lysol my sugary anus
i flail amongst my zen books for an inspiring passage  
 no rescue was forthcoming.

/

i met raekwon from wu tang clan

still wearin wallabees
we talked about muji

the great fashion divide

i'm streaking the canvas with scarred glass

yawn

there's a cat in my lap

the void is crying

or is it laughing?

it's all suffocation in the end

/

there is a rural zone between cavities

$2 million sotheby's auction the first roll of duct tape ever made
they used actual DUCK

i gotta have it for my first kidnapping

wine sauce

sweet and sour

my bed and barbecue sauce

my fascist art dictatorship and barbecue sauce

you blink knowingly on cue

you were right

honestly

this tastes like chinese mustard

TOZAN SHEET #24 DIE, NEW-AGE FUCKS!

suck my novel's dick

4800 pages long

fat as the minnesota clay basin

dense as a republican national convention

tozan doesn't ache over every line
he cuts all their throats buries them alive
gonadal and ovarian mystery schools

swimming in little teat formations

blurring the ocular waves

tozan: your french-kiss mt. doom

heart is a VHS tapes i do not rewind 

tozan beyond your space-time genjutsu 

salmon sashimi in the ATM 

eyes bug out of your head 

bodhidharma pumping your wasabi mouth

/

80" of cream

no throbbing

...is not a hobby for me, is a syndrome.

a cold dome.

squeeze your PC muscle while imagining a cold lake over your crown chakra

kundalini jefferson airplane
kundalini rob zombie

/

zazen

sports car / war machine

tozan's foot down 500MPH unstoppable
terror and screaming

very loud at idle

 vast murders

hug your crystal tight

TOZAN SHEET #16 YOUR DUMBFUCK JEALOUS LIMITED CONSCIOUSNESS BOYFRIEND

WHAT DOES YOUR BOYFRIEND THINK OF ALL THE COCK IN THESE POEMS
ARE YOU SCARED OF YOUR DUMBFUCK JEALOUS LIMITED CONSCIOUSNESS BOYFRIEND

MAYBE YOU SHOULD OF PICKED A ZEN MASTER
THEN YOU WOULD BE FREE TO DO WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT
BUT MAYBE YOU WANT TO BE KEPT IN A CAGE AND TREATED LIKE A SLAVE PRISONER


so keep eating
free pastries again biatchhhhhh


Tozan the asshole throughout the ages
Extremly rich and with a $70,000 car
Burning holes in reality all day long
The fakest zen master to hold a fatcak

Make yourself a little fire with jut the ashes of your soul
And sweat out the toxicns
Blue plastic faces

Being not a god is dull as fuck
The game is boring
Maybe people need like 10 more lifetimes
I'm straight
I'm wigged out
I keep really great books and art around me constantly
Whatever I do I go hard on it because I have unlimited chakra

I'm doing my free pastry in the butt
But I just ate part of the napkin accidentally