The truth is tooth and claw. It goes tick-tock, tick-tock. It’s Lost Man Creek. It’s fertile. It’s wounded. It cauterizes so we can heal again. The truth is loco. It came from Monterey wearing your mother’s bra. The truth is chunged. It’s a petroleum pipeline. The truth is an orange baby pulled out from the Paris Accord to punish the world for mocking him. He’s out there in diapers — killing the earth daily from a hate-based perspective. The truth is bereft. It’s crude oil. It’s a man walking on the moon is not a man walking on the moon. The truth could be purple. The truth is in fact, shockingly purple. The truth is Alimito. The truth is Locust Avenue. The truth is — I know so few boring women. My girls are troubadours, they are shark-toothed bison. The women I know spread ideas like pollen. The truth is a chestnut. The truth is hairy. The truth died in Puerta Vida. It died again in Mexico. The truth never died, they just tried to bury it. They’re always trying to bury it. They throw whole mountains of soil on top of it but it still climbs out skinny and pissed off and needing a beer. The truth is Ptolemy. It’s boarding the train from San Francisco to LA. It’s a fight with a Trumpet before 6am. Blow your trumpet motherfucker and I’ll still shit on your parade. The truth is agnew. It’s friendly smog trails. It’s rush ray. It’s the service King. Enter at your own risk! The truth is whatever you want it to be. It accepts cash only. The truth is taking its clothes of, it’s skinny dipping in the river. It’s turning slow beneath the moon. It’s got pennies for eyes. It’s got twigs for arms. Fuck truth (they say) just freebase Disney. They are so awful. There is no saving them. The truth is spray boy! It’s asleep. The truth droops. It’s oylim olafu. It is heart felt. It is good. Caution — truth here. The truth won’t get off the tracks. It has right of way. It’s derailed and it’s taking a diversion. I need the truth and the truth needs me. The truth does not vote conservative. The truth does not vote for hate or murder. The truth believes in science. It fills out no forms for bureaucracy. The truth won’t meet me later. The truth holds me like a baby then breaks my fucking heart. The truth is — it was no incidental part of social warehousing — to raise a risk averse society. The truth does not do mind control. It’s allergic to fakery. The truth is a shuttle. The truth won’t lighten up. The truth can kill you. The truth won’t kill you. The truth did not kill you, it set you free. The truth might kill you later but first it will make you laugh. So many people devote their entire existence to avoiding truth. On the street, in their homes, in their beds. They refuse to record the truths of nations. Of individuals. Of crimes against humanity. Of achievements, of victories, of heroes, sailors, sluts and pirates. The truth swears more than I do. It drank all of my saki then put the empty bottle back in the fridge again. Don’t take the truth to Tiffany’s she has no time for diamonds. The truth is a trilobite. It’s fossilised fuckery. It’s got a ticket. It’s track no.6 in San Jose. It’s California 8308. It’s your hands on my body. It is feeling you in my soul no matter how far you are away. It’s unwanted eyes. The truth needs voodoo. The truth is boarding. Buckle up. Bend over. Touch the sky. Be a tree. The truth wants you. This is a truthening. The truth is mounting San Georgina. They don’t want you waltzing with the truth, no, no, no. Truth will take you on the run. It’ll build fires with you on the old railway. It knows your hunger. It knows how you are scared. People are always asking us to lie for them. That is the truth. They want us to smile for them while they lie to us — for us, about us, and to each other. Truth is dangerous. The truth can be denied but it will not be ignored. The truth is too much. The truth is helpless. The truth is too big vastness in all things. The truth is nearly all people want — to care for, feed, hold, educate, love, and sing to every other person in the world but we are raised being told we should all go right indoors and keep our fucking truths to ourselves. We’re told going into the outside world is just too dangerous. Don’t keep truth from me. I’ve laid it a place at my table. I’ve invited it for tea. I made truth a tiny paper boat. The truth is future packaging. It’s modelo free. It’s been sold. It’s done a long time in the joint but it’s been tunnelling out by Sunday. The truth is a link belt. It’s jasper. It’s Jane. It serves no fucking master. Kiss me truth, do it slowly, please. The truth is smoking behind the bike shed. It’s a flag on the porch that makes me feel queasy. It’s a hockey stick. It’s being attacked by wild turkeys. It’s fire. It’s trapped. It is death walking along beside us and at some point we take it by the hand. Time is shorter than we ever know. How the fuck do we save this planet while we are still here!! The truth is we can do it. The truth can change everything. The truth wants only good things for you. The truth is a house on the hill while people sleep by the tracks. It’s tents. Trollies. It’s washing. The truth is never-ending. The truck is knocking on everybody’s door. Look on the mat — there’s a leaflet. The truth is looking at you. Aye, you. You are the truth. The truth is you. You are the time, the place, the hope, the beginning of what comes — after. You are the greatest hope for truth. I am too. The truth can smell you. The truth is this world is so, so beautiful! The truth is you are meant to be here. The truth is good to you. The truth likes you. It would buy you a drink. It would hold you in the night. It wants to have your children. The truth is not wily. It’s a friend of coyotes. The truth is hay for sale. The truth is mustard. The truth is Jonty’s. The truth is Vietnamese. The truth is morgan hill. It’s memory ivory. The truth broke down and an old lady held it. The truth hates to be alone. The truth saw the sheriff. The truth is church-like. The truth is I’ve had holes in my converse since I got here. The truth is landscapes fly and trains stay still. It’s jicama. It’s twisted lily. The truth is available. Sign here, and here, please. The truth is veterinary. The truth is water. It’s not on lease. How am I doing, truth? Actually don’t tell me. The truth won’t take me to bed unless we’re both so drunk we can’t see. The truth is blind. The truth is horny. The truth is that when I was a witch I always did it sober. The truth is all ways. The truth is I’ve always been a witch and a little bit gin and mostly scientist and spirit keeper. The truth is pretty good. It’s certainly truthful. Don’t deal truth to narcissists. Don’t feed the narcissists. Don’t give bombs to narcissists. Don’t give countries to narcissists. Don’t give spray tan to narcissists. Oops, okay. The truth is sociopaths are good at some things. I’m not saying evolution has no place for them. The truth is — fuck you. The truth is — fuck me! The truth is fuck hate. FUCK HATE. Fuck the cunts that perpetuate hate, that hurt other humans every day — the truth is for those people — I have no atoms of empathy — evil walks among us each and every fucking day! The truth is — don’t cross me. The truth isn’t coming out to play. The truth is some friends mothers loved me and others were worried I’d steal their jewellery. The truth is I did not steal their jewellery although I might have been tempted by their valium. The truth is I was never a thief. The truth is if I wanted it — I worked for it. If I couldn’t afford it, I didn’t buy it. I could never be a thief as too much has been stolen from me. The truth is calling out a list. The truth has pincers. The truth is a red handle. It strips away rubber moulding. The truth is rarely fatal, except for when it is. The truth is in a call box. It’s leaving the country. It fucked the sheriffs daughter and it’s now speeding down the highway. The truth won’t take me to dinner but it often makes me breakfast. The truth is I can’t breathe but I can write, fuck me sideways I can type. The truth escapes me. We need to hunt the truth down and nail it to the wall — who am I kidding, truth is going to track me down and read me poems whilst I bleed. The truth is we need the great loudspeakers-of-truth to blare out all day. The truth can hold a tune. The truth is outside the embassy. The truth is marching. The truth is if you keep immigrants paperless and nervous you can pay them so much less and you don’t even have to worry about paying out for their broken, fractured, dislocated sense of self. How do you belong without a country? This country does not want you ma’am and your homeland wants to kill you. I tell you this, the truth is not written in the stars — it’s for us to put down. The truth has autonomy but only if we give it our everything. The truth is a clown. It’s musical but it can’t play drums. It’s a dog wagging its tail. It’s a god. It’s a dog-god. It’s bathing in milk. It’s a girls voice singing all the way down that alley. It’s all hype and hypo and hypero and hyppero. It’s under lock and key. It’s handcuffed. It’s sweating. It’s governmentally detected. It has crosshairs on its forehead. It has a bullet with its name engraved in silver on the side. The truth will be deleted. It is studied by assassins. Believe me, governments and goblins all know — the truth is deadly. The truth is the land. The land belongs under bare feet. Dip your fingers in the soil. This world belongs to kids and they should all be climbing trees. The land is truth and so too are farmers, sailors, tinkers and traitors. The truth will be evicted. The truth’s got a Russian landlord. The truth is on the other channel. The truth did not miss the train to LA but it does miss the good old days. The truth is nostalgic. Nostalgia is truths mistake. The truth is there’s a lot of wood in America. The truth is Del Monte. The truth is Salinas 7. They’re shredding documental truth, they’re drowning truthful atoms. The truth is atomic. The truth is southern. It’s a man raising his fucking fists. It’s a man scaring a woman. It’s underplayed. It’s vile. The truth says, go warriors! The truth will hate you later. The truth won’t trade or barter. The truth has been upgraded. The truth’s the best performer. The truth is there is no truth. The truth is truthless. I’ve copyrighted the truth. The truth won’t sue me. The truth is not trash. The truth does not travel business class. The truth does not own me. The truth is thirsty. Make it a double if you’re buying it gin. The truth is hiring drivers. The truth is not extinct. The truth is stupidity and ill-intent are a global misdemeanour. The truth is not so sure about humans. It’s not totally convinced. The truth is driving through a brush fire and it did not blink twice. The truth is I was on the Amtrak eating a salad and talking to Jackie whose son plays in Rancid when the flames were flamey either side of the train …. we just kept going, it was all just totally fucking okay. The truth is I felt sad in El Paso. The truth is sick of type A personalities. A is for arsehole! Aridian. Ailments. The truth is the world is full of people who think their needs are THE MOST IMPORTANT ONES and they say I am just making sure my needs are met — because they are so much more important than yours — but still, hey buddy, call me friend! The truth is self-serving entitlement is killing evolution. The truth is idiots think entitlement is a totality. They think it is eternal. They kill the planet and people as if the plague they profit from is a birthright. They act as if they are fucking holy. They rape the worlds resources, bomb its children, batter lovers unconscious, murder wives, mothers and sons — abuse children, institutionally implement generational racism and poverty and homophobia — perpetuate incessant crimes against humanity — often carried out with the full weight of the fucking law behind them. Some people claim heaven is a place where murder is sent down by celestial order and that murderous animals will be rewarded and deified in some future infinity! I apologise to animals. Not one single kind of you, murders like we do. I tell you this — and I will tell you it any day or night — if your God tells you murder is holy, then listen hard — your God has lied. Your God might be money. It might be capitalism. It might be celebrity. Or, fascism. It might be good old-fashioned hatred and greed, it might be patriarchal or matriarchal psychopathy but the truth is this — you will be held accountable for the hatred in your soul. What you give to this world — will be revisited upon you three times over in this life or the next. I met God and the exact words she said were this — not in my name. Not in my name, would one single child on this earth go hungry, frightened or dead. The truth is uterine. The truth is I am always looking for signs. The truth is epidemic, let’s start a global conversation — do you think revolutions are not started by bakers or bartenders, by people like you, or me? The truth is taking a moment. The truth has bowed its head. The truth is praying for all of us. The truth is making me nervous. It’s looking for a foothold. It’s flickering a candle. Offer it a cradle. Give it a place to lay its head. The truth checks your fingers for a ring. The truth is trespassing. It is forbidden by law. Lately it’s been general but it’s getting more specific. The truth is a southern cross. Truth — hopes. It is architectural. The truth is ready to fight for you. Are you ready to fight for it? The truth loves you. The truth is in motion.The truth is a warrior. The truth is a saint. The truth is a sinner. The truth is a coward but it’s also a wizard. The truth is a hermit but its come to our party. The truth is our true creator, it’s age-old, it’s the only educator. The truth is love. Love is truth. You are love, you want love, you have love and every fibre in your body was created from light, we are all of us pilgrims and for better or worse, this is our time.
That, is the truth.