|
| After two days...of being baptised in stale beer and other various goo's left over from concert goers, literally diving into dumpsters, and doing it all while emotionally exhausted from the week's events I am ready to cram all these unbearable nightly mind self-destructions I've been having into a satelite, send them skyward, screaming in a blaze of my relief, and watch it orbit the Earth (far away from me). Lets not pray for a safe landing...
| | |
| by the way...how is your dayWhen kalidescope eyes reveal a lighter side of star-studded walks down red barren paths toward the green light at the end of a mysterious tunnel. Prepositional phrases pollute writing like Wal-Mart pollutes the Earth through the smiling mouth of an apparent happy face.
When writing reveals true feelings bent backwards in time and space. I've now lost my place while painting my face.
When afternoon sun cracks through morning's rain soaked clouds I know it is time for bed.
I'll go to bed now so my eyes make peace with my tired mind.
| | |
| crunchI am walking down the sidewalk outside Walker Tower. This is where my mind makes things. The ice beneath my feet makes every crunch of my boot reverberate against the twelve story place where I live. The frozen ground saying hello to me as it hits the wall of the tower. Each step generates its own power much like every thought does as it banks off the tightly packed mush of my brain. I think, "what if every step I took made as much noise as these steps I take on frozen ground." Crunch...Crunch...Crunch | | |
| Put them in the bag, no! shit, down the toilet, fuck! Take um down! Swallow swallow swallow...my mouths dry I need liquid. Liquor, its all thats in this refrigerator. Okay, time to go outside, so bright, fuck! Where are my sunglasses. In the car, fantastic... | | |
| - "banana phone" banana
phallic symbol of truth; yellow moonshaped masterpiece
please wait for my brown speckled goodness; sweet purity awaits | | |
|