Brandon Gregorieff

by Horror Sleaze Trash on October 8, 2012


Brandon Gregorieff is an EMT on his way to be a paramedic. He is punched in full time as a madman, father , husband and general misfit. He likes cheap beer, camel lights and strange places.

Traffic report

It makes my dick twitch
hungry
hateful
In fields of famine
Between two barrios
An urban garden sits ;
Dead kennedys playing on my radio
Inescapably
Everything is cursed
Ill fated
Broken
Rotten
And cock eyed

Deliberate smells
Imbeciles arriving early on tonight
To go after
Some sex hungry filigree
Strutting around
Telling fables to men
About things their wives
Wont do

Swine and swill
Not a feather to be found
Drawing down
On God’s broken wing with a 22 cal

In these modern times
Where Bukowski sits on the bookshelf
Of some vain elitist hipster bitch
I hope for brackish waters
Slow moving thunder
And maybe a little
Truth

One should not hesitate
One should not give a shit
In fact ,
One should take a shit while writing
One could stay afloat awhile
Just the machinations
Of his primal rage
Hanging out of windows

Sincerely yours
From the car
On fire

Pussy like a battery

Women
It does not matter
If you are good to them
And that my friends
Is a poem
On women

Arcade Blues

Put the dime in the slot
And watch me dance
Or possibly her

To survive this life
The most important lesson
Is in the art of deception

Everything else is a factory hum
A hustle
To keep working
Or fucking
Or screaming
It yellows with romanticism
And dies below the tide

Euphoric hammers and nails
Driven into this so called
Immortal soul

Old midnight fools
Wandering the cross streets of America
Picking up snipes
On the way to meet
More death
And its shipping news from the ICU
Police statistics
And piercing sirens

There is nothing
You can do for that man
And thus
The cathedrals ring out
At noon
And it does nothing but make
People stop in this city
And feel
lonely

One more dime in the slot
Some more grist for the mill
Crocodiles in the dark
And one more day
Is upon us

Folds of time are important
Misjudged
Nagging
As there was a time
When i used the blunt handle of a knife
To fuck my wife
On the floor

She came
Marvelous and spectral
And I had thought since
That the poetry
And the money
Would come easier

But i found
That a 12 hour shift
In an ambulance
Just gives horrendous nightmares
blood clots and hell fire
on the way back
to her pussy

May the world
Bat an eye as I juggle
Eternal return
On the end of my dick

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