Saturday, February 28, 2009

pt. 2

and all i'm asking of you, not much,  is to show me
two living breathing reproducing pieces of machinery
then i'll see god and concede that he is more than me
but until that time i will be a fount of blasphemy


i don't need no bullshit-non-profit-self-aggrandizing aggregate
get lost with your whitewash blues cos' i can't handle it
with self pity aside and moot factors not considerate
i'm feeling pretty good, lining up afore-lit candlesticks

Wednesday, February 25, 2009


I have been down right awful about keeping up my writing. 

I'll get to writing here again soon, but for now my favorite lyrics of all time.

Listening for the hoofs of the rescue party
Waiting for some ghost pony to glide into Berkely
With an old fish bowl for a tear-trap strapped to its ghost saddle
And it moves slow like an exercise bike on an airport walkway

Something that wouldn't smell like ground ants or glossy magazine cologne

But a wet street after light, late summer rain
A wooden match just lit
Or something new in the green subject of a landscape painting
Or something new in the foreground in a poster of some Asian mountains
that says "PATIENCE" in a funky italics