Sunday, 19 October 2014

Short Handel Stove

Mechanized tins, for life
and the rovers over him
as he forms the paper cup
in coffee batted liquids
it was always the way before the day
and lord knows we coulda made it
if we walked through our foreheads
underground
as the fucking drips of pipes
hit the dirt mound
and puddle into the tunnels of Ants and Mice
that vacuum their carpets
with nose plugged drains
never could the west be won, if things'd be just the same
don't speak through your sports metal
or your funnel hat blower
it is a shitty 50
and the grass got a mower
so the mountains divide
and seas plummet
as the meteorite crash bat boom
on the Earth and the Moon
as the sun sets it can't think anymore
it always says "I've been out too late
keepin things easy
keepin things simple
I'm off to the Cow Land
and the jumping rivers spoon"
so he crash beneath
and my head hit down
like hammer to nail
as the cats all run wild, and tight rope walk
as dog bark noon
the leftover pizza cold
and the brew is hot chocolate
and gettin colder by the hour
lord knows the life had left the building
and it's a quilt maker dream
in a summer laboratory
that Robotnik be makin gold ring fluffy machine
and the loops all go fast at blue blur speed
in the heavens that gather round
camp fire
tellin ghost story
and the most worry that their feathers had fallen to the ground
as the Masters and Sons all look around
at ones the eyes
as if to say "We made it,
let's die."

Friday, 3 October 2014

spoken dreams in the after hours bellhop of my summers end live because with that it's all worth it anyway and we escape to an eternal summer and the sunshine

I am currently because it is raining that in the phone booth is chain smoking because it's 4 o clock and I've got an hour and a half left before I have to start the day so I dictate this letter today before we go on a cosmic journey is better soul it is clear that said once that the letters in the alphabet form a perfect circle a whole bunch of triangles old interation accomplish bring back we find ourselves in less fortunate hum factories because the Egyptian pyramids live look at herself in the mirror and decide that we existed but now we do not because don't pretend but do when faced with less fortunate circumstances do you understand what I'm saying in my heart all at once formatted my eyes because I don't have eyes line break

So I just got copy and unpacking the phone booth I'm going to be late cigarette and no this thing is is that I need you just heard results I like interns of virus and see after hours okay so right next meet is my phone booth export a pack on top of the phone behind those things that give you local call rate there's dust and I'm sure you could get HIV by standing anywhere near here so please beware of my current condition as I am right here and it's possible that I have to try something before I get tested and I got more coffee and its still raining its 420 right now and it's a beautiful day with clouds with and what can I do to get you in this car on the on the rear view mirror on the window and the parking lot is dust everywhere there's a sticker that's been taking off there's a bit of graffiti here with an arrow I don't know what it says but I'm sure that it means something amazing to someone other than me book look to be in good order coffee stains on them you can pay with a credit card and dimes and nickels but mainly takes the luniz I am local color is 50 cent aw area code number applicable taxes are included so I'm with Mitt they're open right now but I'm done work and I'm done work at 1100 be meeting with one place and we're going to be heading out of town only slightly to spend

Now I understand that these may be the last word that no one ever hears me say it could be side I end up dead somewhere in the gutter and I love each and everyone of you so much even if I don't know that I've only got about an hour left before I start a grave robber and because when you go back and correct them a little bit I could spend my time recording the radio all night 24 hour piece of paper to become something like a book 300 so it's kind of like the 19 fifties it's only the Berbee out here before work I'm sometimes I can't think properly and when we do the smoking way too many cigarthe cap of a man with a bag can you reiterate that certain promises is make a great work of music poetry that doesn't make any sense because and found out that you can all sense of sanity because I don't hear your voice and without hearing a lot more in and keep in mind that's fine but with that being said and I don't think I'm going to head over and voice sound of the body movements it comes down to the fact that everything is complete bullshit because how can you really say anything that means something to anyone it without any grounds or any sense of clarity where they're planted at that very moment with cars passing me right now headed to wherever they go in there going to home they're going to work there they going to their wives or husbands other kids you kno with with what we're trying to say is that they go home safe transexual lovers and and I really hope that you know when I get that age because I am sure of it and that's the thing you should be young and beautiful woman but now he's 65 years old and that you know I'm in my prime and you are in your prime and my grandfather is in his prime and you know the children with their they're scary eyes they're all blacked out is he the reason that you miss your youth its because you didn't miss it at the time you were there and you were climbing for you and you were fishing for fish and your singing song but don't exist I guess you don't miss things bad and I guess what I'm trying to say is that when you're at your house and your spiraling in the state of confusion sometimes most people think that God Himself is connect, and you can tell them what to do and that is that and it does bring a certain clarity

Because without clarity we're all fish food stamps for all the lost souls a wish you were here and by the way you think so tell me now if you if you look me in the eyes and they change different colors also would you believe in Jesus Christ and my Jesus Christ though make yourself a sandwich here awesome and pass it on to other states because I think we can get the phone ringing right now it didn't work and I didn't work love so once again let's go back to be careful around me when before I've been tested for 8 Jay Z AIDS there we go so Jay Z speaking to me about the water I end time there was a time in my youth and right now minutes find bring up the memories and share so thing is come there is a child I'm scared of pain in the world cup and you know it maybe land in the fact that when I look at the phone still feel great english anguish and you know it with that being said I know hun I was going to go down with our life leaving ghost upon the waves on us because they know that we are afraid of them if we didn't we would already be them and the great journey comes in self discovery and not self or self mutilation masturbation and you know hanging yourself anal fixation look to the sky because there is no return nice spoken eyes

Alright let's try and interact with this phone is going to tell me please completely enter your card or dial the number that you are coming home now there's a tone right now the operator with me gi sometimes through the radio to you at home and are you at home or are you elsewhere does home exists no I do not believe this because if it did we will be there already eating the apple pies and you know her mother with shifting to the mud and on the carpet with his web flexi glass taste buds the red lights are red what I mean to say that but the traffic lights I read because with that being said I can't see through walls but I can understand where I am in the grand scheme of things and that is nowhere these look at me and they discuss themselves every now and again now with that being said I've never been one for a walking but recently I found myself talking and looking at the traffic as it passes but still can't figure out how to make a. In a sentence but I figured out right there so I guess the thing is I can say this I'm a walking shoe. And I forgot my shoes. They don't talk to me. But they also talk to me through commas, best both.. And I'm a man without a past future I don't exist and to all those people that I've met I'm deeply sorry that I have guard your existence boat I left my self a great in is constantly a state of laughter and tears that's fine because I'll be in the ground and and I'd be joining that we talked about full stop Volta and cultures.

Just settling in for the long haul and at the same strip tease backup and is looking at me now in the photocopier phone booth and like I said I'm in A loading dock and smoking my final cigarette before I lose my mind I think the best question to ask is there any chance I will become suicidal by the end of the night and if the answer is yes I can live with that because I've been there before and I know will return there someday anyways we're sitting at those bread loaf things in the oven the paperback match and the fucking trash cans of my sweet summer slides playing it was a thing to do in my own shoes I lost my shoe late it ripped in half because it's quite well and you know what I don't understand why but I do understand that my break after I lost it five thousand times over and the wick of my spoon on you No it's been said that once you're gone you're gone too soon I like that again justify it mean like if I say is that yours is that your trash can or sale where you off to you I can say like how you're such a bitch I know and I understand but I'm like this where you going to is it too fast and then the last one would be how many fingers am i holding up to I'm holding up two fingers there we go I like this speech impediment thing we've got going here I'll stop because it's ok that where are we? Pcm getting a hangover make a paragraph break here is it worth it to work now but I don't know why it would be seeing mean away time I'm already going away knowing that as I'm sitting right here looking indian yeah I've looked at 3 in the eyes before anyone awake trying to school no I've looked at yes gas guess d a t h close enough in the eyes and he ran away crying is idaho his eyes I will as a formed in the pool applied blood see now you're being difficult with trying to figure out what I'm trying to say I right now you know look at yourself can you come now but then you spell continue looking back to you something you back insane why y 8 did I let myself lowdown the drain and why my fire like the fighter breaking my aunt breaking because it is really make much sense to be a firefighter love is much as you could because then you wouldn't be a survivor so with that being said I suppose the whole time for me to head inside now change of the flying beautiful jacket and hyde because when you're a Jekyll you ain't got no time for that looks at you and laughs then hanging slinging been fooled by then and I used to sing when same buddy Newport then baby you busy baby Denmark when you coming over let men know who did she meet where hey babe I'm shave it up lemon do with who heading to defeat the cup paper cup

And I'm in the desert and I don't have shoes my feet are we ended from me to you.
E n send the end full stop full sup sup sup sup full stop full stop full stop full stop full stop full stop full stop full stop ok double stuff,. I'll stop.


Wednesday, 1 October 2014

just, words

Where and how, and what in the fuck
did I arrive here, and so boat empty
of forget your hands
you look far enough into misery,
and the meaningless of life
and it's all you start to see
come cross all those dreadful
bastards, and their cats
and dogs
and it's raining frogs
just look me in eye
and tell me it gonna be cool
even though it wasnt from you
but me, through you
to my pit
as I realize that a ship has sunken
when one asks "what floats it?"
because if it is floating, it is most certainly
destroyable
in fact there is no boat
no painted sails
it's all just expressions of humanity
in the vase
always the case
and the mice man looks again
in his turned up coat, he'll light up his tiny cigarette
with his tiny mice fingers
and ask "So, Sally, what ya do these days?
Still turnin tricks, and sayin its all good?
I'd hope so... God, I'd hope so"
as mice man vanish
and vanquish, to relinquish control
is to say we exist in grand movement
but since fact is clear
we are empty
much like said boat
it can only be determined we are masters of domain
and we can jump, or not
angst, teenage riots
keep me awake
rollin down block at three thirty five
and buy gas station stickers
it was the time
and what a time
oh my god
when the simple version of this
simple story unwinds
and we look behind the curtain
we see ourselves
the puppet masters
always tellin lies
to say all is not quite right
with the world.

Monday, 29 September 2014

Another Time

I remember waking to the sound of the drum,  The workers strike, the yester-times southern flights all crash and burn beneath the lighting strike. the waves of my own sweetness, the recklessness.They flash and fall, and they turn all rainbow. and light the world to flame and the after-thought sandwiches of my North-Bound nature, and the flower blooms your mind as the sun sets in, and we all stay put, the divine. The eyes you shared all work in harmony It's all a different spoke, with the synched out clocks. Please have a good one to the resting place, as I walk a road and crackle my hips, and the cigarette lit, and the formations where you join your grandparents for a final coffee and the seasons all harbor your soul. The feet in a ship tank fleet, down at docks at god awful hour the fog rolls in, and the light gettin clearer. Please take a time, The brisk in air, Have a goofy smile

Ever turn the dial to radio/news/cartoons and jumping Jacks, with pity in their hearts, in their Swiss and ham? The late nights are a dieing breed, and broken cracked ice in soul. The bad breath of my youth, for those old men, could be damn candy I'd consume, and die with sudden burst and glance. Look up, look up, tells it to me quickly, and auto mobile graveyards, waiting out the storm, that is upon and gravely creating. Don't ever ever ever stay or leave chalked up to all the Fall the Summer breeze, and the rest will follow.or he'll blow it out his brain..that exits eternal salvage, and bolt in the blue, with fake James Deans,the cave masters bend, that tells it to me quick,  straight as an arrow, and the view folds beneath you.

The conductor...  I could turn an apple into a bed pan, Like a man can really drive a train,  Fucking walrats, and the mats in my faithless or exist in the grips of 'do I exist?'s killer moons And the leaves of trees look down, frightful. The sun eats lemonade, and the stars are cool. can grasp at your tonal cord.  don't need much more.  In a disk-jockey fantasy, the meaningful becomes dull.

So where did you go? In the fancy sports, and where could you end,What conductor? with such certain retort?   the rockets extend, and the views all lose. to see it through vase, but the knock off version of Southern parade and their leather sports coats and the broken smoke..

Dear Reader,

I realize I don't say this enough, but I appreciate the es sense of your being. At the very least, in this current moment and incarnation of my own. It is possible everything you just read was in-coherent bullshit, and apologize if that turns you off. It's simply the way of Ghosts, walking the halls of my sublime existence. Please take heed and look to the stars, every fucking night. Look dead into the Eye of the Sun, and see it looking back. Life is a short thing, of course it is... it's damn obvious, but so long as we are on this track to nowhere. This track into the unknown... know this: your weather balloons fill, and fall... the bats all lead home, and home is figment. So whatever it is you have to have to return in form to that pit soul feeling, of when you were first born, and sucking in the air, just know that the remainder is the sum, and sometimes the road awaits in simple harmony.
Good night

-A Friend.

It was a different breed... I mean, it always is, it never is. Just those coffee brain explosions. I suppose it was discovery, and maybe that's why it seems different. I'd plug into a different drum. And I return to that drum, that well of wells... cast pennys at my reflection, and ask if he wants to come out to talk for a couple hours... Swirls... more than swirls: The first swirls. The declaration of the first time realizing we exist, in a dead end. Or that we don't exist at all... the bounds were forever, and I'll remember you well, when I'm a gray man with eyes that forget how to work.
Somewhere, and somehow... the sickness in my nose, or the cool breeze, or the quiet moments that feel like death, will come up... and this will be the point, I realize it was the end, and it don't last forever.


Saturday, 20 September 2014

Past Time Pastes My Forehead

around the campfire
so close to radio memories
it's all so funny
but it doesn't want
in the after dusk
it's a jitter bug night
and the messages from break
that don't always make
sense as they bring up life
we exist
that sits in a popper
while the flowers wilt and burn
and it doesn't quite half wit
perhaps to the outside world
in the dust and they lose
their minds in a half-guage apple pie
but the year is a fright
to the telephone pole that the gypsies gaze
the popper brings an eye
but not really, because
and it glue stix the card huts
it doesn't need
we are reflections in the television monitor
and tell those stories again
and the 50s happen to follow
and blow into space
it all can crash my mind if it wants
it's sand paper, baby, it's simple like sand paper
and the later half of it
it's all so cheery
that flying spinner
and tell stories about their laughing wolves
I saw so many eyes


one more for the road
as the great divide
and the stories they also told
the grasshoppers rise
and the king k rools
because when a circus is here
but the hatchers hate
it don't bring much to exemplify
but its cool, to be a fool
stole your eyes and set it to plane
the clowns all go home
and the grandparents knit
to the mirror and their hated other halfs
the granite always brings
it brings much more to lost
and put on their frowny makeup and weep
as it flickers and dances with the elves
and the scorpions bite
when the embers cool
escaped to dusk
and the blue jeans all hop
the gymnasium sits at my house
the frogs love
as the people we were all jest
in the countryside, we found the banana horde

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

She's All My Major Vices


I awaken from my slumber
with my arms wrapped around her
and she’s a cold hearted demon
pulling back, when you lean in
I’d go wherever
just to be beside her
but she’s all my major vices
blown out brain with her niceness
she got me hooked on nicotine
making sure I’m never sober
she fills my blood with acid
and I hate the smell of plastic
my mouth is filled with ashes
she’s cool, and sarcastic
but it doesn’t even matter
be a fool, try and have her


It seems like no problem
it’s the sign in a column
I lost my job
lost my dog
on the train
the morning fog
but it doesn’t even matter
be a fool, try and have her

She makes me feel ashamed
make me sick
make me lame
I vomit her hair
and catch that glare
she hates me to no end
and I hate the way she bends
with her blocked off eyes
I’ll be happy when I die
lower down, never cry

Yeah, she’s a cold hearted demon
never prays, she’s a heathen
sacrifice straight to Satan
pulling back, when you lean in
and she’ll burn you at the stake
and she’ll drown you in the lake
when she smiles, it’s always fake
listen to her breathing
feel her pulse, always fleeting
sighing soft, all so sweetly
always laughs while she’s dreaming
and awakens from her slumber
different city
different number
and she can’t take the time to care
and the car always crashes
and she always plays with matches

When the sun falls out
hope to God she leaves
if she stays
it’s always for days
and you claw at mind
and she got you in the bind
but it doesn’t even matter
be a fool, try and have her
when there’s places that you’d rather
never talk, never bother
resist the urge to call her
make you sad, make you crazy
make you mad, make you lazy

And she’s all my major vices
and it doesn’t even matter


Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Went Down 34th Street

The lamp shade, bit-tip the lip, that sips a cup of molten lava. Rock on through exteriole wave, and verify the existence of pulse. Granite. Charcoal. Mix-limousine your left eye is fucked. It twitch twitch twitch, the lambat. Heathen, Heather, "Tell me, how's the weather?"

So on this corner, in mid September, as the echoes of emission, the souls fleet through the down below streets, in soft harmony. The rain bats, and the leaves turn. And they do turn. Flop down, fish and catch. How bout that record spinner, and it's scratches? I know that 34th Street is nice, this time of year, as the people return to their roofs to overlook the old picture shows, and the mice and rats, and the dancers of rain. Tell me quick, if things quite the same. The watchtower fell, and the dissents. Disidents.
Don't mark-break the limp lands, but the barren sky and the split tamborine cherries in the cloudy mist.

I made my way to Pretty Flamingos, and talked with Two-Grass Jon and Fifty-List Sally, and they drop jaw shut, Jon say
"Hey,"
as Sally speak of "What is this sweep? Chimney, cha roo, achoo, to you and you and you"
the curtains called, the curtains fell, but the tick tack, and the rock and roll music died, in a crash-boom-bang, in below the waves.

We are ghosts. We always were, and we tell ghost stories, and fear aliens, but it is all us, and nothing exterior of mind, so that for once in our life, we can look at ourselves, dead-set eye-gaze in the mirror, and not fear whom is looking back. As when you look away from your own eyes, and return to that dead-lock, you realize the mirror self does not sway, to never look away, it's constant. It's so constant, and so you musn't break the look, the glass walls, it must be a out-last until that bastard on the other side gets up and leaves. But nobody leaves. Nobody stays. It's a fun-house, and we, the carnival seekers, and the dream-light in the summers glow night, and the masters of terror, and the singers of joyous wonder, and the men behind sun glass, and the women too, and all them without, and all those with, and the ship is christened at dawn, as it's always a fear to say goodbye in passing, to any sort of addiction, and realize it was the final straw, and not have any big deal been made, to make all that built up spine, and the funnel in he desk, all crash into a mix of passer-bys, and it was all goin' there, but no moment any more to mark the days on the wall by, in our made up calenders, because where we exist, there is no time, no day, no night, only the everlasting simple conclusion that we are a dust partical in a vaccum that keeps going, forever and will never need to bring it'self back to the plant, planet, the robot cabinet, and the cleaners, the dreamers, the light city schemers, with their chariot and their hoze nose, and the hob nob gobble gobble the eggs weggs, the jibber jabber, the helter skelter that brings it half way down to a pixy spell cast on those that once existed, but always do, through song and dance, and mimes, and the times we used to look in distance, and shooting star, with the top down car, and radio fled, on the train as we all swirl round and round and end up in the same area, or another, at the same point the pin point light, it drops and it jests at you, but remember, it wasnt this, or that, everything is nothing and nothing is everything. we continue, we fall on down, and swirl, but we could never have once dreamt to clear, a day, where the cold is welcomed.