"advice from hated experience"
By Chris Weese
May, 2000


These are the hotels and
hosptitals in the urban
rampages you see
The waiting rooms, lobbies,
and offices of the things
you claim to be against
I am on the outside
looking in
And I am in a cold, numb,
dead prison that I
do not wish to be apart
of in any way, shape, or
Form your opinions very
wisely and look at
every aspect of situation
disfunction

"Tip"
By Chris Weese
December, 2000


Solitary morning shower
the beautiful young waitress
(mother of one)
My orders of food and drink
Unimportant
but she does her best
I can make her happy
Her evening tears will fade away
She doesn't notice me
She just hands me my future
consumptions
And I smile
And she does

Occurances #2
By Chris Weese
January, 2001


I sip the cup of coffee
and I say to myself
"one day I'll have a family"
Oh my God
(And I'll have a minivan
and carseats, and strollers
playpens and bottles and
responsibility & a career
and a wife)
Should I be so lucky?
Or will I be doomed?
I take another drink

(untitled)
By Chris Weese
January, 2001


Pointless verbal environmnets
Sounds of agreement, approval
Lonely, pathetic worms
Everyone is dying, so I should enjoy
life, but I cannot
Unity and the color of companionship
are ugly, hidden, and forgotten
There's no hunger here
No Desire, too much desire...
But not for their ways and their
rituals, beliefs, and myths
Should it be so an impossibility?
It is.
The face of hope is just a fallacy
or the destiny of everyone else
But not for me
I didn't pick who I am and I can't
pick my future
I'm powerless and aggressive
I'm on the wings of my own
compassion,
My own lies.