“Mad Dogs, Bred for Chaos”

Tyler R. Martin

My grandfather died at 78
A chain smoking alcoholic,
Miserable and strong till his last day.
I watched my dad get hit with a wine bottle,
A big heavy glass fucker, swung like
A billy club right across the dome,
He didn’t go down.
My uncle’s an alcoholic,
Fifty years going strong,
Once took twelve hits of acid,
All at once at a Stones concert.
He still stood.
I got tased twice and punched once
In a scrap with ten cops,
I didn’t go down….
Mad dogs don’t go down easy,
I come from a pedigree of mad dogs.

“The Almighty’s Comic Relief”

Tyler R. Martin

I was suicidal long before I knew
That living was essentially dying.
I craved death from the beginning,
Tried to hang myself with the umbical cord at birth
…..To no avail.
I followed up by jumping off slides at the playground,
Jumping off roofs, out of windows.
Broke my arm twice, but nothing fatal.
The Almighty caught on to this when I was 12;
My appendix burst spilling gangrene
Throughout my body.
This is how I go, I thought, sick and tired
in a hospital bed while the Almighty has his laugh at
Making me wait so long.
And the Almighty did have his laugh, but it it didn’t
Come with my demise.
According to the surgeon, the Almighty had
Blessed his hand, his scalpel and my soul,
All of these blessings allowed the surgeon
To clean up my insides.
I awoke to pain and scars, but I awoke all the same.
Road rage at twenty, screaming at an asshole
From the Carribean in rush hour Manhattan,
Tried to run my Cadillac through a concrete divider.
I was outside my flattened Caddy smoking a cigarette
When the medics arrived, shocked they hadn’t
Driven up on a corpse.
They demanded I seek medical assistance;
By the third increasingly persistent request
I told them in no uncertain terms to fuck right off.
The Almighty once more had his laugh,
Leaving me with not a scratch and a whopping
Auto bill for my troubles.
Booze, pills, tasers, fights, tried them all;
Nothing seems to slow me down;
I feel I’ll live to a hundred, miserable, battered and broken
But not dead, no that’ll be too easy.
I must have been a cruel man in my past life,
Or maybe I’m just the Almighty’s comic relief.

“I Don’t Wanna Be Here”

Tyler R. Martin

I was born in the wrong generation.
A lot of people say this, I know,
And perhaps they’re not wrong,
But I can only speak for myself
And I’m quite sure some bureaucrat
Up there in the heavenly abyss
Fucked up my departure time.
I really should have been born in
The Grunge era, or a few years prior
During the Punk Rock boom
Or way way back freezing my balls off
On a Viking cruiser waiting to swing a
Battle ax and rape and pillage.
Any of these would have done nicely.
I exist in a savage age which
Chews up all who do not prescribe
To the malicious zeitgeist of our times.
This is no era for one perpetually bored,
Always and about everything,
And gives no fucks about trends,
His political social standing
Or his own personal appearance.

“So Very Sweet

Tyler R. Martin

You’re simple, easy,
It’s what I like about you,
You have very little malice and seem
To care about me, even if it is just
Pity.
You ask me for very little,
A kiss, a cuddle, a good fuck,
The occasional adoring glance
And you seem fairly content.
You don’t need much, you’re
Happy with just the knowledge
I feel good around you
And that makes you feel good around me.
Aside from that, although
You may crave deeper emotional
Mutual masterbation,
You’re resigned to my inability
To provide.
You’re pretty, in a very maternal way,
There’s a sweetness behind the
Bitterness of your smile.
I can see it, taste it on your kiss,
Feel it in your stare.
Every man needs a woman like you,
If they did, perhaps
They’d be less insanity
And more shrinks
Getting government cheese.

“On Being a Good, God fearing Drunk”

Tyler R. Martin

I have been a fall-down fucked-up, apathetic,
Puking drunk since I was nineteen.
It has taught me much.
Being a drunk teaches one
How to vomit with grace and poise,
This occurs after years of practice.
A good drunk learns how to shift gears artfully
Driving home from his bar,
Down shifting as he corners on side streets
And narrowly misses parked cars
On the streets of suburbia.
Drunks learn quickly whose girls they can hit on,
And whose they cannot.
Being a drunk teaches you
Whose bark is worse than his bite,
And whose bites you should avoid.
Being a drunk accelerates the learning curve.
This is due to every good drunk’s contempt for all that he is not;
The booze provides this self reflection and it isn’t often pretty.
For being a drunk does not diminish or distort or provide escape from reality,
Being a drunk simply enhances it, puts reality beneath a magnifying glass to reveal the pocked, Scarred and blemished skin hiding beneath the porcelain facade.
Booze will break her drunk down so low he can only look up
And the view is nothing but decay, and this decay is toiled in by the world’s worker ants too blind to see, too innolaclated to smell the stench for the world’s trash fires.
Yes, drunks learn their lessons, and yes, drunks often swear off their medicine, tiring of reality.
But a good drunk always returns to the bottle like a devoted lover, a good drunk cannot stand his own hypocrisy..
They learn their lessons, they learn them harshly, and they learn them truly.
All this for the low low price of a 10 dollar bottle of wine.

“False Punks and Weekend Drunks”

Tyler R. Martin

Go out don’t get arrested,
Go out and get real drunk.
Rocking to The Clash in your black leather,
Calling yourself a punk.
Then wake up in the morning,
Shave your face and comb your hair,
Shower early the next morning,
Tightening a tie with some “flair”.
It’s the one your mother bought you,
The one with a red black hue,
Then bathe in some cologne,
On Mondays this is what you do.
Then once more it’s a Friday,
You’re leaving work at five,
To once more imbibe imported beer
At the club called “IT’S ALIVE!”
You repeat this on Saturday
And on Sunday night too,
Back to the office on that Monday
‘Cause this is what you do.

“time has come”

Tyler R. Martin

Watching out my window
While life is passing by,
Lonely with the spiders
Making sweet love
To their flies.
I’m alone with bad memories
And the tears from each old eye,
I’m sickened by the world
Outside and I just wanna die.
I’m a lonesome little boy,
Masquerading as a man,
It’s ’bout time
I put my foot down,
Take the noose in my own
Hand.

“The Bum’s Lament”

Tyler R. Martin

Stroll ’round campus,
February, brisk,
Bukowski under one arm,
Hair wet from an
Ill conceived shower,
Grumbling, having left my
Smokes at home.
’tis not the Army, my man,
A voice whispers,
This is college, this is
Shithead country,
This is beta-males and alpha bitches
Lamenting about the plights of
People they have no want to meet.
This is the land of soy lattes and no
Cigarettes.
I have no need for tofu, guys,
Ty needs nicotine, mainlined if necessary,
Right to the fucking heart,
I don’t wanna talk about the alliance
Of gay and straight people,
Sorry, but I wanna smoke and
Sit quietly. Any takers?
No, then can I bum one?-
Confused stares all around,
Mean like cigarettes?
Sure doll, got one?
No, but I have a flier for blah blah blah…..
Fuck me…..
I hate college, everyone so health
Conscious I’m feeling sick myself,
So righteously political I’m steadily
Leaning more towards anarchism,
This is the bum’s lament,
A true Valentine Smith,
A Stranger in a Strange Land,
Lost and without a smoke.

“Don’t Worry, Baby”

Tyler R. Martin

Watch that worry, baby,
Give your heart a rest,
Keep the going easy,
Flow ‘long with the breeze
Don’t be sad sweetheart,
I am all you need.
With me, never stress
Just lie here with me,
baby,
And I will do the rest.
Its 10 AM, baby,
I’ll fix you drink,
Don’t worry, we’ll
Get tipsy,
No reason to think,
We got nowhere to be,
Outside doesnt matter, sweetie
Soon this you’ll see.
Don’t worry ‘bout the rent
Way past due
Or roaches in the sink,
Forget about broken
Wine bottles,
Don’t say you’re at the brink.
Baby, breakdowns aren’t fun.
So, sweetie,
Our lives, right now
Might be a mess,
Don’t be sad sweetheart,
With me never stress,
Just lie here with me,
baby,
I’ll do the rest.