CHEESEBURGER NEBULA

PUBLISHING HOUSE // ART COLLECTIVE BASED IN DENVER COLORADO

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access to excess

debating stating text

regrets in all the pen strokes

I focus on the next

what will be more complex

or will it be less?

I confess (!)

this is all a test..

as intrinsic begets to steps

my brain is a concession

to drugs & concussions.

it was a bless

the rest in just catalyst

I just want to be at my best

withering to rest 

(blackouts) 

I act out and back down 

failing at what I do next

trailing the steps to plan dip outs & cash rounds

or stay focused & build what I need too

vaugebook

truth is in-between the lines any-who

whom had such lines beget /behoove

truth be told I speed through

green jewels 

we only feed who we can

or need

to.

loose in the collar

frivolous with the dollar.

but who isn't.

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2 k 88

fa

   ke

finger cybernetics in 2k88

I dance on graves dressed as human combustibility

I got half in the solemn divorce...a had for a half

we smashed both.

'Its that time though-new  says the law.

brake bracket with robert in the skyline definer

hes talking basketball

im thinking about absolutely nothing

staring at the light as it passes through the prisim

prison pyramid tattoos on the ________

realer thing about it means  IM just

                                                                                              ,,,,,,,,,depressed man.

no real way to talk it out (walk it out)

squash it out like an infection

aggressive discretion

circumnavigating sub-terrania

quiet for somnolence

acquisition

I want its fucking essence.

I am decadence in its blessings.

drain me of these angelic visions. let me lay never in question.

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Concrete angel bruised by the elements

Rooms filled with elephants...love in the lore

More and more I find myself looking for warmth

Ways to be better while engulfed in flames

Mornings of horror.

fingers like fire in a row of daises

desperatly tying to fit the ash in my coat pocket

“ a real stash I think”

as I make my unnoticeable exit through the back door

(shit I needed cash back) this bus wont catch itself

I guess Ill smoke a couple cigarettes and walk north.

out into the great unkown-blow way out of peportions by televisions and gift shops

plot my burial in this stabucks

wish...no praise the luck

pray for rain...not just bucks

they’ll all be kindling by the time were finished here anyway

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Presses should have McDonald's style mascots

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ur an american treasure

like some sort of half ravished dog I devoured on,&on in red fog

until the piano blocked the natural sun and the general hum of the house that had sat for months

I'm cornered off///feeling like I'm in

that weird 90s remake of "romeo & Juliet"

except literally the only reason is its ascetics

I let off some sort of half hearted pen stroke that fell into a mumble

until it gets brought up /wiped up/fumbled

(its nothing)goalline(its nothing)

It rarely ever is in this glass house of gas,hoses & prisms

so fixated on pension & staying out of prison

like smiles,denial,catchphreases;theunwaveringdeserire toscreamlikefuckinghell

coming forth into vision

its a sail

I get back to my perky smile and snide comments,take my drugs to dial down my threat level

legal or not

I levitate towards this shapeliness

this makeshift light I find gratuitous.

the talk of peace gruesome

thought of war or not I felt wholesome for the first time (ever)

but scared &  covered in ulcers

pulses roll over clever

like levers unlocked from pressure (I denounced on,&on)

until the fever shakes we're in this together

& I mean close enough to kiss or stab one another

I talk to my mother as we turn closer to god

I think of nothing as I fall further from actual talk

like disassociating in a grocery aisle having a petite detox

with a conscious that's spiking itself

with cough medicine & anti-anxiety medication

all thought & an ego that's all walk

Faulkner books burn to keep me warm as I nod off into the light covered miasma

wills written in chalk so they can wash away into the potholes & flashfloods

sewer gators have dreams to-I shall forever feast under moons

Mame and tide me over like some sort of solider...or hobo...these days aloud are one in the same

this conscious thought would be a vacation...but I am complacent

all that's left is a break from the life to reevaluate my thoughts

its a pastry and pharmmy day

I keep trying to die but im living life at its peak anyway.

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slimer

I wander these twilight hours showered in power

could this be the morning I thrive

gliding past the fines,finessed blinds...the rhymes that lend themself

so thoughtfully-so selflessly

selfishly I belt out prophecies of dichotomies

I understand nothing for I am everything

I wonder how these soured feelings turned to cowardance

why my soul feels like its teething

why my nose is bleeding.

shes in all white laying on my bed being the american treasure she is

even in these days of concentration camps & an endless wave of od’s

I wonder how long we will breathe.

leave me a few of those before you go

you know my anxiety has been killing me,

stressing over lessening the impact I was born to feed.

freed minds are still constricted by time

if that sort of construct still disrupts lies

youre fine. youre fine. youre fine.

watching tron while dreaming of ghostbusters 2.

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TRIANGLE OFFENCE

Gandhi Mavula,is the owner/operater of,Zoombieland Ground, work in the Dallas/Fort.Worth area. He has dedicated his life to football & more importantly his community and the potential he sees in getting young athletes into colleges. Sam Collins is a Mexcican League baseball legend in North Texas for the,Algadeneros. The Mexican league is essential to the continuation of community building in Fort Worth,Texas. It provides free entertainment for families and fans as well as a chance for people to continue doing what they love. Both college athletes and actively involved in sports to this day they have deep understanding of not only major leagues around the world but the importance and socio economic of impact of what sports can do to help further communities Doc Bonnie is just a nerd. An unathletic,stat geek in baketball specifically. He runs a small press in Denver,Colorado and has useless information about most sports that just appear like fever dreams. The Dennis Rodman of the group in this,Triange Offense. Tune in Sunday Mornings! Follow us on social media:

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We love fan submissions.

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hometown heroes on parades in their placation

another stay-cation with no phone calls home

beatnik irony finding its way to loans

its so posh to be boneless.

toxic motives towards the lowends

like these summits of exhumations

high end fashion on skeletons

dying to fit in.

I spin it again

another cigarette-no use to the distance

Ill either die or I wont-I've never been good with endings.

lending this flesh out to live again

wearing this stretched out shit my old girl used to sleep in

softness 

red lights in the office.

daunting moments of exhaustion

this is the magic I’am lost in.

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sink

twilight accented by storm clouds

full of doubt I stare off into the distance

lit cigarette...pensive

maxed out savings accounts-no pensions.

visions of missions not fully intended

but I am limitless...Iam my testament

through the depths of my soul I am symptoms 

I am symphonies.

Simply living would get the best of me

I need to run,breathe & bleed.

simply giving my soul is enough for me

lost on lonely roads-reminiscing on goals.

I think,more than anything I wanted to be loved

but for years I thought it must be through someone

its a struggle to learn to give yourself hugs.

​ 

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Lemme write your obituary

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between the pylons

Pocket full of booooooonnnneeesssssssss

No closer to the grind’.

Makeshift parlays I call home

An ease to the mind

The mime of the every day

Never on the loan

Basement full of clones

Desk full of dones (you’re fine)

It’s like a cover two zone

With line backers like these-there’s always holes

I send it on a blitz

No negative yardage though.

Flocks in the dome of so many Sunday mornings

All by your lonesome

Imaginary strengths lead to lows.

Sell high /stay high

Realism in folds

It’s not always about touchdowns

Sometimes it’s about field goals