Up Behind The Clouds

Up behind the clouds,
me down beneath the ground,
eyes of stilted slits,
finding starry eyed stars,
just to stare down,
just to get even with

My big blind telescope in a world,
that’s a vandal’s braille,
i hear the clinks of glasses,
in my head i hear the wails,
siren songs, singing spelling wrong,
as always, the petty flesh will fail

Potted palm fronds, flitting about in gusts,
for all we’ve done that isn’t wrong,
a song written in dust

Add weight to my shoulders, break back and repeat,
release nothing until depletion, mixing iron into meat,
drink wine with dead soldiers’ clamors, pleading for the ink,
one pen left to write with and so we write until we’re weak

Leave the rest to the weary,
i’ll write so the half of me that thinks,
doesn’t have to think so scary,
for blessed is the one,
the one that surrenders nothing,
except the right to breathe until he decides he’s


At Every End

At Every End






Defiled stop signs lying scattered across my mind,
A vandal ripping into the laughter of the sky,
I fell up into a star but it burned me,
Left me with all these cheap, pretty, happy star-shaped scars that I earned if you please.

Shrouded in a gauze of bittersweet insolence,
Trying to off the soul remaining witness,
Quite the incompetent assassin,
Loudly leaving a long trail of collateral victims like a broken vacuum.

Nothing is free, not even a scream,
All these mirrors keep staring at me,
Like some merciful attention,
That I didn’t get when I was the misanthropic child,
I needed parts fixed because people were troubled that I was troubled.

All so delicate.

Everyone threw stones,
Many others hurled bricks.

Like dying or fucking or going blind or insane,
Like falling in love or smelling flowers in the rain,
Like a scalpel crawling into my brain,
Every single day is recycled time spent in vain.

But that’s just how life works,
Remain calm and no one gets hurt.

Yes, calm and still as your teeth are eaten,
Consumed with garbled delusions of speaking some meaning.

My broken new spectacles.

My broken new spectacles.

Alexander Ziperovich


Vision 20/20 dateline,

See nothing,

Place time.


A shattered illusion that you could have once seen,

Had it been not for the dreams of your dreams of your dreams,

Awaken to absinthe and cappuccinos and more dreams of dreaming’s of funerals and scorpions.


Pianists fluttering Chopin E minor,

Nocturne like a nihilistic suicidal flyer,

The end is near, late stage in a metastatic hanger.


Drone broken,

Bumblebees and butterflies,

Take that cigarette you’re smoking and give it alive.



i’ve been scared of spiders since forever
and forever is really just how far back i can remember
which is not that far


“it’s like an antidepressant!” here i refer to just one bump
arylcyclohexylamines for everyone! especially me!
i’ll beg & i’ll plead for just one more grain of something crystalline

our favorite thing?
ketamine pee is blood urine
a bleeding dick?
oh, how lovely,
did i mention involuntarily being committed more than a few times around the country?
california fifty-one fucked me – i must be unlucky?
“ghhrrrrn”, the sound of me snorting my brain into a psychiatric ward is funny!

drugs love me/as a writer it was exhilarating forgetting

yes, dissociatives aplenty mixed with amphetamines so i never sleep and miss a moment of
this deliberate, horrifying waking dream that is the reality of casually
breaking my brain with a drug they call

i want to eat myself

by alex ziperovich

disneyland & starbursts
what is inside this man, this man whose scars make his heart smirk
bitter is the flavor, neighbor.

have you tasted or even savored that taste, that taste of waste devouring waste?
eat a chimney, bellow pain, world rewinds to the same damn thang,
i killed mickey mouse right before i incinerated art – for god & war & all things sang.

i spilled my scotch on the devil‘s shirtsleeve,
he looked over at me grinning immortality,
and he sang a something that went like this:
“one moment of peace for a botched robbery is bliss
two die zero speak grief but that damn virgin, god does she bleed,
(he leaned in whisperin’) between the sheets she makes me weep!”
his boots a knockin’ he turned round & hissed,
“that bitch virgin mary gave me syphilis”
and he couldn’t stop laughing
him smiling pearly suns
i said, “devil, how come you so mean & so fun?”
he smiled snarled and barked back at me through his cocaine teeth,
he said, ain’t ya heard?

“god had twin sons…”









burn, burn, burn

and you couldn’t figure out what to do

she brings me a cup filled with ice and water
that man by the steps , “i need food”, he keeps begging
i stumbled up on him chanting “food” and “will you help…”

our bloodshot eyes, they met
i offered him some bagels from across the street
he waved me off with fierce eyes full of the no_thing of hell
this man did not want bagels
this man with all that blood in his ears, beard dripping
eyes all fire

he wanted fire, real & crippling
there were deliveries and deliverance’s
that had to be made

his eyes spoke crispy
the devil ‘s constituency don’t want food
satan and his emaciating impatience

the devil ain’t hungry
he already ate

the man

Everything Cried Into My Eye

alone in the rainA tiny divine murmuring echoes through me whenever a raindrop lands in my eye. My eyelids encircle the droplet protectively as I blink reflexively and as I open my eye a blurry mixture of my own tears and rain runs down my cheek like a tributary.

The heavens cry immortality.

The droplet meeting my eye is but the tip of the needle that threads together this electric, beatific heaving; my own small, human ellipses of rain clouds resting inside my face are but small windows from which to weave the smallest, surest part of the plenitude of life back into a blinding sun which we humans bathe in, in its perfect light, so unknowing and filled with our humanity that we might forget how we are only tiny snowflakes in the tundra of the universe.

Each one of us the prodigy, each of us the plague.
Each one of us the robbery, each of us the take.

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