Title

That's When the Nightmare's Begin

The Life and Death of Johannesburg

I came from Zimbabwe in 1994 to south Africa as an infant on my mothers back. My mother's name was Winnebago Samarium....we are black Africans who can not run a country of our own. we have come all the way from the past to bring the rest of the world back down to it's knees. my hands are the shovels that the devil uses to haul white people back down to earth when they build beautiful cities out of nothing....then i moved to America on my brothers back...to Alabama and became an American... i remember that fateful day i decided to become a stranger of Pearl, Africa, the mother of the human being, a dreary creature made of many different colors, shapes, various sizes and very distinct personalities, which i refer to as trash because trash have very distinct colors, shapes, sizes, and...smells....my father was a fisherman in Zimbabwe and he could not read very well. he could not read at all. my mother got burned alive on the streets of Johannesburg for being Zimbabwe born. now i am homeless. help me. i went to America with my brother and a ninety nine year old white lady named Barbra...i call her bar bar the great white shark lady. she has purple hair. i want to become the first black man to die in America from my family. however, I'm alive today and I'm only 18 years old. I've been home schooled by bar bar on a farm in Alabama since i finally decided to leave my burned alive mother in Africa. i must go into America and prove that i can die a humble and none disgusting death... this is my story...?

Weeeeew! thank goodness I made it to see another day! I didn't run across any new formulas today! you know those kinds of chemicals in my brain that allow me to be so bestial in my domain against the King and Emperors of Georgia Americana.
Tiger Moon! Crocadile Sun! Black Hole Iris! and Camel Toe Gallaxy! These primary loud universes at the helm of my warmed buttock yell in the background---as farts! I heard them mother, you are in Alabama still aren't you, sweaty, tired, bored, and fat i suppose....i love you mother! you know your oldest son is gone mad don't you mother? Oh don't be sad, he likes his insanities. They are his lyrical codes that none whore should crack when the nuclear bomds destory Al Gore's hot Earth! They are like the bees working away at this heart, the bee keepers hive. Hold up! Someone is beating on the tresses of my very doorsteps! I do not own doorsteps i merely see them under old rugs....
Who goes there, you foul knocker! Is it you Stink Breath Carmela, you fucking hag, bowing to invisible Jesus like that! I knew it, a dreary fucking whore with beetle antennas leaping out of her hairy ass!
I might as well pay her the two pennies i owe her for killing those two dastard roaches that keep eating my brain every Ash Wednesday. Oh take this you slut and shut up! no, not my mighty medium sized cock and curve! the pennies take it! Take.... the....fucking....pennies! Take the fucking pennies and leave! oh goodness, you are my blubbering slave, you hag! See you again next time when i have more roaches for you to kill! be gone, hag!
I own sluts, Hahn ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Dekametrius, you are so Randy darling! (the evil laugh of Dekmetrius in the background)! Now about politics in the face of poverty! Ah the pleasures of fascism in the face of contrived republics in the democratic meritocracy of the ghetto in Decatur! I loved the fuhrers ideas in reverse! he hated Jews. i love Jews. he hated blacks. i .... well.... i don't know if i love blacks.... i love me mother.... she black.... i don't love that crusty dude Alvin who begs on the train....God Bless You Sir! go to hell you Slut! you Beggar! you fucking bugger in thy hairy, snotty nose!
And while i think of these silly anecdotes for my pleasuring and henceforth botched delivery in the insanity ward (America), i loved being in the middle of my mental illnesses....encouraging it to grow pterodactyl wings and flying back through time.....what? the doctors can't prove nothing is wrong with me but that I'm............strange black man in his early thirties....that's what the psychiatrist said.
Don't drink too much wine, she said, it will make you crazy like Larry Joe, your uncle. but merry well be I Deka; the low down dirty scallywag with a shaved head on Saturday mornings.

Red Wine and Sweet Tea

Mix in a little fairly tale, the dust of a huge black gruesome monster, a smaller more handsome green creature, throw in two bums begging on a train, brothers know doubt, and while you're at it add five black girls and you've got a party drink straight out of a Fiend Tale... Adonis's Fiend Tale about Yegg's and letting the people rule, regnant populus, with all the muck-a-mucks and none sense like that; and oh yeah I'm part dictionary and part porn whore by the way, as I'm widely smiling informing you of this fete, just thought I'd add that. I like Anne Sexton, rag dolls, Japanese dishes, Chin Chang Girls, and sick bald headed guys, five seconds before they die anyway they want... but never mind that, lets get back to the Red Wine and Sweet Tea shall we, now whatever was i saying about that again?

In love with Words

Here are a list of words I'm learning:

Toxophilitic
Rondeau
Sapaceous
Velutinous
Repudiate
Sedulous
Labia Majora
Tenebrosity
Profligate
Ephemeral
Eolithic
Abattoir
Satyagraha
Mauve Decade
Epistemologist