the cats fear the weed whacker's appending doom

noise chatters from a mountain

the man in mask
whip's a weed wacker

she calls out
" sophie, sophie"
the cats bell is nowhere

the weeds fly,
the nose runs,
=========
the itchy eyes water and the
weeds clear the field
but nowhere
the masses
running for their lives
not a one.
_____________________
_____________________
_____NOwhere
is the Christ
to warn them
of the weed whacker

she calls out
"kitties,
kitties,
sophie,
snoopy come here kit-kitt-kitties."

the nose will dry and the noise will die
and the cat will come in for a temptation-treat-goodie
and forget the appending doom
and sleep in my lap.

TRICK AT THE PARTY FT KICE, AURAL ARCHITECH, JAY OH YES, DERTY KEV

air em out

the air is out...

this will eventually get vocals on it, but I thought I'd put it up...more poetry to come I promise...I just rarely type them anymore and mostly long hand them so they await the keyboard...

I broke down and used auto tune!!!!!

this was a freestyle I did and ended up putting autotune on it. why, you might ask?
well b/c I can as much as I hate it I also need to understand why its so popular?
again,why is it popular?

math class...daydream by max fisher...produced by crutchboy....streaming at http://owl1978.blogspot.com

this is from the forthcoming digital downable album from max fisher...out in 2012...when the world is dead and gone.

new max fisher song streaming at http://owl1978.blogspot.com

They Climbin latters reaching the top

So high in the air they’ll break they neck if they get dropped

Covered in swag

Blackberries and them Gucci tags

Is that rap? I workin my ass off to skate

Take my old lady on a date

Under 20 bucks baby we gotta save for months

they take int’l flights overnight

we can’t gas up the tank to make it to the bank

but one day I believe we’ll see that light

God reassured my everythings gonna be alright

I know we ain’t promised tomorrow

It could all end in a blink of an eye

So how we treat each other is crucial in this life.




Hook:

Cash lacking debit stacking
Micro managing funds
Maybe baby I’m just dumb
Maybe I’m numb to the nail wounds
Forever son
\come soon!





We the people
Want freedom from
Financial woes
We the people
Want the government to keep there
Hands off our dough
Cash rules everything around a fool
Sheeps wool
Softer
drooling at the wheel, officer
Cut credit cards
Duck debtors hard
The love of money
Roots embedded in that evil
None equal when they lay chips on the table
The greed of men makes them spit them
Fables
Telling fibs
Why poverty got kids
With sunken ribs
And malnutrition bellys
Dehydrated lips
With flies regurgitating shit
But up in them glass houses
They don’t see this kinda of
Shit blind to it or just a crime
If they see through it but I guess if yr money’s
Lite you
Gotta get yr money rightX6

new city gypsys streaming at http://owl1978.blogspot.com

I'm posting rare songs from the first new city gypsys sessions
the new city gypsys comprised of terrible telly (Mariano senter), jay oh yes (Josiah fields), and matter (Matt gilbertson)
production was handled by jay oh yes and later the addition of Drum (Clancy Clark)
overseen by hart larew in the summer of 03 to the fall of 04 in Iowa City, IA this groups sound has a unique focus on the literary arts and the concepts usually had a focus on beat generation Icon jack Kerouac's spontaneous prose
I'll be posting new songs as frequently as possible and digging in the vaults to unlock rare and hidden material from
the dynamic group...

the interview

I went out and bought 54 dollar slacks, 39 dollar shoes, 92 bucks total.
I was ready the 7:30 am shove of my girlfriend awoke me.
I reluctantly rolled out of bed if only she forewarned me of the day.
I put on my day old slacks, and new shoes I was on my second interview
for the latitude Group, they wanted me to see what they do, when I finally
got my tie on straight, nervous- gut wrench feeling in the belly, I made my way to my car.
when I got to 5901 christi ave. in emeryville; went up the elevator to the fourth
floor, made a right went up a flight of stairs and hooked another right: Suite 500.
I walked through the doors there was a big 50 inch flat screen playing shawshank redemption...I thought this isn't good the possibility of the deeply moving innocence of jail time being displayed as justice...in a marketing firm?
this interview was to show me the direct sales appoach to marketing and the foot work of the entry level position of sales. I knew the common sale-pitch, but this was the show. we ended up going to some girls car and heading to San Mateo. My shoes were so uncomfortable. My shirt didn't fit.The day before, my girlfriend and I, went into SF around powell and mission, or was it market st, by union square? My girl bought the slacks. I sat there and worked on the crowd all these young college girls discussing earrings. The trip was made for the reason of going to the asian art museum for the Butanese thangkas this was on our way home, that we made this stop and purchased the slacks. Monday morning
the dull boring start of my second interview. We're in this girl's car and it starts to rain...great footwork...direct sales...in the rain.
by the time we reached the mall parking lot I knew I spent more to go to this job than what the job required. By this time she tells me what they do-I'm not pleased.
"when we get there some people might tell you to leave their stores or say you can't solicit, we just don't let it get us down we just move on." she smiles
" I'm gonna be asking you questions about your day and what you think about the job."
before this leaves her lips
she's on to the next babbling sentence then on to the first
customer (pet smart shop) a pet trainer
"hi can I ask you a ?, nothing crazy I was wondering if you or someone you know likes
to have fun, right? well, I'm w/ city lights crusies and we're celebrating a huge
expansion and we're inviting all our friends to come
and
join us."

title wave the last ocean of sound

the common ground
is in the _________________________________refraction
the light is in the _________________________________dwelling
place of birth :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::the idea
of trinity
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>33333333 is three 3333333333333333
with the
basis of one 1111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
as the father

_______________________and who'd of thought we'd
________________________________________________know sound?

or the _____________________________________________________underlining plug of
quiet-still-photo's of
the past?


///////////////////////I remember little
of last night//////////////// and last night remembers little of me.

_______________ only wish to be
saved from -------myself
not by some notion of God
_________________________but by God...
this is the tricky part
we know
what is
........best
yet,
************************what we do isn't necessarily good for the
heart..take drugs, for instance,
we've outlawed certain ones
and built billion dollar empires
off orange bottles
with doctor recommended
dosages... and the side effects?
well, the real killer is our thirst for
cures and putting off death.

when we wait next to the
washer
machine
we see
the shadow
of what is
to come
and
then we know
in part
what is the
destruction of being

the nature of man
and the will of the heart

can we understand the turning
point in life
when we give up on the
desires
and shift the focus
to the eternal
saving grace
of the sun
and bask in the light of his
child...?

our face planted in the ground
and then slowly getting up on the knees
and bowing our heads in humility and
telling God who am I?

hollywood jay ep

mystic bum

opps?....

my fly space ship rides through the past, my astronaut suit is built to last

we travel the space waves
outer rim
everglades

_____________arm yourself
_____________against the Devil
___oh, he preys
___oh, he preys

Oh, you better pray

brethren, 7Th horn in the 3rd
dimension sounded
capture empty
space, just the
way it goes some days

stand behind the yellow line to marvel at time wasted away
whittle little wooden legs to help the dear drummer boy
run away
live lessons of love
under
the
tree
smell
passion
between
the
sheets

but passion withers in the breeze,

like me...

mouth mentioned months
of may the same year our dear drummer boy
got saved, then passed away
oh tormentor, torture the tempted, not the depraved.
witchy hour witch
wanted to switch sour seats with me
the line hangs love over the edge
the negative space is the cliff
do you notice, the notion of men?
their byproduct of pride?
the line is left
the notion of self.

...for the love of a good ole' fashion
price slashing, nice to meet you in the clearance section ass lashing
lesson you learned in suffering, which, in Latin means
passion time for some


action.

the sweet peas...are 3 dollars or two for five.

waking up at six am
slanging farm food
to women with mustaches
and I still grow my
frown and speak soft
when a passer bye
walks in front of my stand





"the sweet peas...are 3 dollars or two for five."

the cure of heart burn and other home remedies

betty boop
:::::::::::::steady troops
the aim is sloppy
and the food taste
like poop
we've had better wasted nights
under glows
and
bug bites

the grill wouldn't light
the vase was cracked

afternoon
belittled by subtlety
sober ganders
people walking market st
MoMO for kentridge exhibit was

wine

pulling weeds and planting cities

she throws her
rite aid bag
at my car window
and starts yelling in German
I thought
by picking her up
she'd be pleased,
but my Christian charity
back fires as usual

I'm stuck
being yelled at
in the
Lucky's parking lot.


This is what
happens when you age
you settle down with a person
you know you love
because you can't stand them
but your inescapably
drawn to them,
we choose to love
not feel in love with someone
when your partner says
"I fell out of love with you"
it's a simple way of saying
they don't want to put forth the effort
to
save
what
is
left
from two people
who gave up on the nice qualities of being
polite and civil
now they can't stand each other's
lack of respect
for the space needed
to feel free and
clam...

this to isn't truth or any form of love.
love and it's highest form is selfless...
which if you'd also realize
doesn't harbour any true attachment
to the other
much less to the self.
its' only outcome is the benefit of love
and the joy and peace
it brings to the giver,
and not the giver as receiver,
but giver as in God
or as in ~God is love.
adequate love is done for the remark of no return
and to see the flourishing growth
of a flower
in a proper meadow
its the stream of laughter
from the child's heart
that's too young
to see the hardship
and sacrifice
of the parent

God has the ultimate sacrifice
the love of his children
hence freewill
the longing for love from his own
which choose not to recognize him.
This is why we state
God is love
the selfless love of a disowned parent
still writing the checks
to keep the
rebellious teen in his/her apt.
friends, to live as love
one must accept the self to be purged
and to relinquish control of its nature
nothing will free us more
than understanding the great
longing of love
other than giving up our need of it
from
any
source
outside
of
God.
the divine love
is what should
control our action,
but rarely does.
the lust that enslaves us
is the reason our
personal relationships
falter
and we tend to go out
and look for the same personality
in the next mate,
then quickly and readily
complain about their faults
not completely understanding why
we've duped our own
reasoning in to
a four corner white padded cell...
I urge you to take action
and rid your vocabulary
of the senseless use of Feeling
to describe your love for another
and see what you can conjure up to describe Love...
it'll be a deeper love one with substance and meaning
not another tear saddened,
madness-driven obsession
with desire and lust
that was readily passed off as Love
if you lack fulfillment
look no further
than you own rationale
why you've been placed in
this garden
pulling weeds
instead of planting cities.

long live the consumer sell out

I'm going to make this the last
vision of fields

the one where the flowers wilt
in Meadows

this one is for her and him
and them.

the sky is blue so they tell
from my room

the door has been closed for sometime
the outside world and its glamour doesn't
feed the soul as reading the old blue book
can...

master of mind
she can't do

the world will and can and is
Choking you.

but never mind sweet and flattering words for they
are sure to fleet

and fly high when
the opportunity
makes itself

the thing to do now is
let the greatest of tears
fall
and let the greatest memories fade

for what is life but
a place we brush up with
then our glory fades with love ones
history herstory
already fades

the grave is stone and dirt and grass
the urn is ash and enclosed dust
nothing really counters the
relinquished heartburn

if you want my opinion
be as a sheep not
a wolf

live how they want
and depression and sadness
will over come you in
a heart beat

if you want to know the secret of joy
then come and sit with me
we can discuss the
properties of man
we can expel doubt from the circle
and make squares

or we can just eat some food and
ask out bodies to hold up till the decay
allows them to rot
many are vain

but none like you
for you seek out
a truth
but deny the source

what would it be like if God
walked in the room?

would he see the
shallowness of your depth
and laugh
or
cry?

he'd probably go to
a cross and die.

the root of beer

to be drunk everynight
encounters a slight wrench in the game plan

to be high everyday
encounters a slight bolt in the engine

to be in prayer every waking hour
leaves one high and drunk


now is the hour
get on them knees


pray

death is life in a counter culture like mine

if the future moves forward I'm back a couple decades
I'm now relieving myself of my car and soon
some of my most prized possessions,
my underground hip hop tapes.
a nerdy collection of people's music
no one ever heard except a couple thoundsand people.

I have no income

I have no future

I'm either planning to move back to the Midwest
as i found my parents will be foreclosing on their home
and moving to Iowa...
I feel a great need to help them or
if a miracle happens I can stay here and work a job, but those
dreams are steadily fading...
I'm no more than a drum beat away
from
losing all my possessions
and becoming a roaming monk.
a lost soul
a mystic man with no home land

America
woe woe to you

she has fallen.

gross the girl's eyes are on water

if the tears indicated
sadness, then this girl was sick.

she hunched over the tabletop and read a letter.
one would believe, he said some splitting remarks...
----------------------------leaving codes

no oxoxoxoxxx

"I was merely a passenger,
a side-stepping-stone on the way to his greatness"
sniffling out her sobs
and snot nose retracting beams of
nasal blockage.

I can't handle when they tell me of there heart ache
just by passing them in public.
leave, go in your room,
tell god.

but here i witnessed it all
and couldn't of been more disturbed
by the thought of never needing or wanting such
access into one's personal life
especially in public, but the tears fell

dream catchers strike out


the suffering is a byproduct of the want of
attention

the byproduct then turns into a life beating blood force

un-rationalized by the discernment of judgement

it messy in the end
and here adjacent from my picnic table I witnessed
this
-------- byproduct.

i threw my brown bagged lunch in the trash.

lets make things easy on ourselves...kill the bias and drowned in the opinion

harder for me to wake up
harder for me to sleep at night
its harder to apply for a job
its harder to breathe
fresh even in the hills
the coughing is nightly
the insanity is what can shake
heart strings, threads, needles sow.
harder to call the people i love
its harder to pray for direction
the slip of liqour goes down with a sort of
ease
the keyboard is easier to type
when know one looks
the bed spends more time on my ass
then the feet
and it still is hard
to ask
for hands out
but thankful when they come

i never thought of life on my planet would be a constant meditation on death

never saw the hardest walk to a cross
then when I decided to pick up
mine
and follow his.

redemption
is the light bulb flickering
before out....

you might not wear a mask but you're ulgy

pride can
look humble

and the bottom tends to
have bitter teeth gashing at feet of
holy highs and righteous rollers

the problem with the critic
is he misunderstands
the lesson

he can teach but never learn
he can tell you of formulas
but never invent
he himself is
a restricted
poem

he is an Amen
more to his own flesh
than his heart is,

poop is the new piss

looks like shit
she says
overlooking the gallery on
telegraph

I mean
what colors and shades does
he think he's using?

and the contrast?

sipping a gin and tonic
I slide up behind her and

comment

wow it almost looks real

ha! do you hear this fool
this poop is the new piss!

ART

the ground is air

last
time
we walked
this far
the
breath


lost
all
hope

gasped
fresh
inhales
a
longing for
smog


open up the road

lost ocean of doubt

it sways
it talks of this
it talks of that

it tells one to stop its course
turn the ship around

it sways
it tells tales
it tells of betrayals

it talks of waves
turning the sound off

it is dark in caves
but the sun is out there

its time to board
and not look
back at the
ocean floor

two days with no sight of the end at hand

wilt warm the brandy is sipped by an expert
the wine is gulped like a fish on dry air
the beer is vats of fryer oil in the gut
the gin is the easiest with bubbles

the party goes on for nights
the days are short
the long nights
are wrong lights to a
decision made by fools with wine glasses
on top of broken televisions

she complains and talks of leaving relinquishing her duties to me
I'd be a full time nanny
with nothing
a slave
and a decent man
of the night where the long wash board
and dishes would pile
and my old heart tickers with fury
over the keyboards
and I still, like a caveman, write longhand

the lonely night of my love
is over and I'm left with a bitter
twinge of aspiration
to keep the gas pedal compressed down\until the
root of disaster fades

or the heaven's open and I pray
so loud the quieting souls repent
or God opens the clouds back and sends me his
son
the glory of his wrath subsided
into the rapture of the end

I go to the frig and
crack the 6th beer open
its time to finish this one.

she lies to you and can't tell the truth to me

she sees another

yet i fully understand why

I gave up being jealous
if needs to feel his touch
and grow cold to mine

i fully understand why.

I'm not of a man anymore

(at least to the worlds standards)

I'm poor in wealth
rich in spirit

I lack nothing of god
but gain nothing from the world
seek first the kingdom

and the world will naturally despise you.

the joy of spirit comes from the holy
not the longings of fantasy
I've become a man and gave up the wrestling
the wandering
the struggle can consume me
and I'll happily laugh at the clouds
nothing really takes my joy away
anymore

poverty is the gift from god
and it is given to those who use it wisely

prepare yourself.

if i was simple, you'd need not tell me

nothing is like the sky
nothing is plain blue like my eyes

if I'm simple you need not tell me.

if long walks to gather my peace
would suffice then my feet would never stop
stepping in line

if I'm simple you need not tell me.

the same cereal in the mornings
make me boring
you need not tell me

the TV always on
makes one dull
you need not tell me

if the only book
you've read is the bible
you need not tell me

if the only simple thing we do
is die

need not remind the deceased
awake the living.

if we are simple, you need not tell us.

if aspirations makes you travel far away
would not the dying longing of heart disappear?

if I'm simple you need not tell me.

if I long for her and she
stands firm in not wanting me
you need not tell me

a flower looks simple from a distant
but until your nose sniffs
and the smell opens up your eyes
then you need not tell me.

I too, was once simple in scope and complex
at length, but when you approach me gentle

then you to can smell my rose
and find the budding of my soul.


if you never change your dream and rot in poverty
the beauty will only be seen from those
that wish to smell

if I'm simple, you need not tell me.

not one color

not one color, but many make our
faces

not simple shades but deep lines
engrave wisdom in wrinkles

not one color can be found on
the body. but dozens

not simple lines or shallow eyes
make sleep restore beauty
but the dreams we sleep on
and the waking hours we chose
to sleep through make us
alive

not one color
not two colors

m i l l i o n s
of shades and complexities
make us; define us

breathe with each other
the blood in side keeps us red

but our faces tell of a different story
one with crying, laughter
heartaches
and everyday letdowns
the girl getting away
the life we'd hope for
that passed

not one color makes us
but many shades.

strong words only cause reaction

time to be a man
time to hold up the cup and
praise man
for his invention

time to be a woman
time to hold up the cup and
praise woman
for her strong will

time to be human
time to hold up the cup and
praise the human race
for their survival

time to be children
time to hold up the cup and
praise the father
for his gift of life

time to be godly
time to hold up the cup and
pray for holiness

God knows we need it.

comedy is a depressed man's form of ...

the ego usually has little to say
but the mouth is always running

he can be charming, but sad
as such thinkers are

the funny face
is a broken heart

the funny bone
is the center of grief

tragedy is the
humorous
epic of downfall

the downfall
is actually the selling
of the joke


and then comes the pause



the pause is the

remedy

it makes everyone
in the room
laugh


its the sad man's
mask

its the way he
closes in on the danger of life and
makes it futile in scope.

cash is the root of a roof

if the money is good
the roof isn't made out of
glass

if the money isn't so
good then you have to share
a roof with people
you love, but think
you're a worthless bum
that needs to get off his ass
and get a job.

the second Coors light goes down
with heart burn and i wonder
if the depression is a view of
my sociological research

self-pity has no room
in the outcome of ambition
or the end goal of the world point
of view

in God's ideal world
we'd own nothing
but our hearts and
give only the love
of our actions


here on earth a bum approached
me for spare change
I handed him 40 cents, my last 40 cents
and i couldn't pay for dinner
but someone who loves me
kept my belly warm
and grace is seen when
we strip down the
riches of comfort.

crisis the
world is in a crisis
I see it not.
we're in a renewal of faith

if I lackluster its because I only see whitewalls

today i read
yesterday i drank

today I hear things
yesterday was yelling

today I'll drink to forget the horror
yesterday I had hope

today is what will become
yesterday was as if the same.

today a toad hops
yesterday a worm wiggled

today the birds play along
yesterday my cat scratched my leg

today is for lovers
yesterday was solitude

today I'll be nothing more than yesterday
yesterday I was believed to be what makes the future today

as it turned out I am
a mixture of gin
and half juice and a promise
of yesterday was broken today

dirty oils on skin

upstairs lives noise
and the TV is watching

upstairs he doesn't sleep
he's a widow

upstairs the chuckle
is alone

upstairs the roof
is all but held together

down here i can't
sleep the thoughts
of retreat haunt
me

down here
i feel captive to hunger
and a slave to sound

down here
the willows sing
of sad sneezes
and coughing
night

upstairs the light is
always on
the children are neglected
and the price for
home is not as the plan goes

haven't showered in days and the way
my luck has it
all wake up in the shower
not knowing how i got there

but feeling absolutely cleansed

glass golden with piss warm wine

blood in the stool

drinking has its privileges

warm wine willows would

blow bottle-tops below lips

the hands switch off the glass
the tongue slurs
and the women lose grip
the clouds cold the front
of the fresh air from my view
each day is worth a wine glass
each day is worth a gulp
each day is worth the
salt in a water so vast

its called an ocean and
the only one who knew the
past secrets of the water
was the drunk

the drunk can swim in the depths
the drunk can wake up and get drunk with glory
as we age some of us drink wine and act civilized

I say

"fuck civilization"

FRIENDS WITH TITLES

we seem to dictate titles to each other

and glorify the mundane

the purple rooster chokes

the looser quotes the newspaper
for his sense of intellectual esteem
and the poet laughs

chuckles a so-what-does-the-trivial
want from death?

the grim critic is the soul within

and the looker of youth is old and ratted
with the lock of love in their hair and the
air is brisk as the rain pelts the tree fig
into dirt and the winter flush face of cold mornings
make the covers a fire place

the title
is the glory of high school reunion
and the bum never makes it back
and the time is a joking matter of luck and
facts get blown out into a place where dreams swallow
the last bit of cheese

titles
make women more viable to sleep with
and the title of the spirit is charming to the holy
but for the famous its a laughing stock
and the willing of poor men that need the money
would say anything for the fame
but the bum wills for a title of drunkard
piss stained smell of nothing and the


last thing men will talk about of the dead is

the human aspects we never lived up to

a title
a saint
a
halo of a man

AM VS PRO

the look it takes
to feel control
isn't the same as
the rest
+++++++++++
the NEWS is told as legend
and the legend isn't much of new

as of late the inexperienced seem
to make headlines

_________I remember when two people met
and made a child and then their dreams faded
and they placed those dreams in their child's eyes but the same
blood pumps through them...

I remember the dream distilled in a bottle of jack Daniels
and the night the burn was numb and the hopes were high
then we too met that someone


and our dream faded into children's eyes

the Professionals know
the way is lonely

the Amateurs know the way is
lonely

the child knows only the dream pumping through their blood
till life wanes

and the next child is born


be a professional and keep the children in the sack and the love cold
and the heart stone

and you might not
know love but you'll know
the dream and the possibility
of a world filled------------ with lonely hope
and an heart filled with indecision's
as the same blood is torn from your family tree to make
a dream accomplished, but never passed.

blood is the thinning of soul

I can barely lift the drink up to my lips.
I can barely hope to eat...I can barely feel my legs
most of the time I'm too drunk or high to
look up and see the glory of God
but JOY will never be robbed of
the spirit
I can barley pray but some how I know God listens
I can barely argue with the girl I know
will never be married to me...
I have little to no cash and even a shorter will and drive to become

I can still mix the drinks and I still sip on the smoke
and I still walk with the thorn in my side
but what I could never do is come out of my shell
and let the world know the hell which is in thought
nor could I ever tell my family what useless matter my body has become
but let not the bitter of the world tear the JOY of heaven from your lips
the drunkard's love of the great wine
leave your lips and let the cup
get you drunk the pipe inhale yr lungs and
let the wealth of the world hang itself
and let us once again get drunk on the belove's cup
devine was rumi's heart ours
polluted with smog and grime that I can barely get the cup to my lips

but I stay drunk....

the rockstar of socialism

sure the world would word war

the earth erupt in erotic equalism

the tide took a turn

and the socialist sucked up the soul

to bring us a

ression rescue remebered by ragan's ragan-nomics
and trickle down trickery of time bombs ticking

close to that old blue book bible begining
socialism of the saints
no one who goes to God's glory
wants good ole fashion reform

they want

to wollow in woes
and a free market with trades
saturating greed and the lock of nest
on pricing to be forseen

what a day and age
as this...

America
needs

socialism
and democarcy

if the check ever comes to free a man's soul

"shower,
shower!"

the sweat made the underarms soak and the damp air made his head
hurt as if a cold was coming on. not the kind you think about when the sore of the back of the throat
bed-sides you. I'm talking about the cold of life's weary head on stone pillows and the naked
cloth of a body torn+++

the signs of a man wrapped up in himself is
simple...

forgets to bathe, brush the teeth, and look out his window. Never sees the beauty,
even if, he looks at the cage as a place of creative solitude, it still is a cage.
the self is a funny thing.
a deafing thing.
a crying boy.

the cold was like this on his 30th year on the planet
earth


__________________________once the man thought of leaving home
family and heading into the life of a monk-nuts-happy-go-luckly
mystic.
but that never amounted to filling the gap soul.
He kept the cell closed and rotted and saw no light.

The day of redemention was/is upon him/us

Winds rushed to the front door, knocking at the shutters on the bathroom window.
the man's cat stood looking at the front door. fighting the sound and waited to be let out, but the man
just sat still- banging the keys
typing the notes -never getting back home the man with vigor but weak strength
found it, I would say in himself, but that was not the case. He found it in God,
see God, unlatching his cat, knew that the man had to be pushed into the unknown not gladly did jonah find his calling
so too the man was pushed
flung wide open to the outside like a calling of veneration.
a parting of red seas' and the cat stormed out into the wild woods and took no time to dissappear the man not
acustomed to failure strapped on the boots and ran after the cat all night he'd climb trees in the neighborhood and
scream
"SOPHIE, SOPHIE...HERE KITTY..KITTY..KITTTYYYY"
making little kissing nosies in between the calling
long drawnout memories of the
first night he got his little one, ran through his mind and like light in the pitchblack of night
it happened

he finally realised the escape was a planned venture and decided to go back in.
by this time the wind rushed leaves pass his head and stuck claim to his skeleton frame.
forcing him to run toward the door to keep his jacket on. the stairs to the cave/cage
were creaky and afraid to wake any of his owners the man tried his hardest to tippy toe around the controlling
factors of his lonely old maid that demanded his hand, which he was certian would be used for ill gain and unrighteous
deeds to fufill man's lust for a power they knew nothing about. Seeing his fate to be one with the cat,
at first sonic creak to come from the stairs the man decided he too would bolt and be like the cat.
the first creak happened. then another, and then another, another.
soon the man was at the front door of what he knew to be a slave shack and
there, just sitting on the doormat was the cat pawing the door ever so lightly
the man opened to find soup on the table and a dim reading light by an old rocking chair

he sat back at the typewriter and wrote

THEY DON'T SMELL LIKE ROSES IF THE WIND BLOWS TOO HARD

I'm gonna find that sick ass ride.....

we must of been
half drunk and crazy
landing our bodies in the glen park district of SF
at a party filled with
middle age
socalites and the beauty was in
the balcony
hanging over the veiw,
looking down at the glory of
all the dark of hollow ween
and the lit up sidewalks of streets
below
and the winds picking up, and
the rain is falling in the east bay.
if you don't leave yr home much
the experience of the outside world
metamorphs more colorful.
shades of language
deep touch the
:::::::::::::::::::::::beauty
the decaying moment
of our little plight-venture.
professional photos of our redneck costumes
that felt more like our skin then our
personality and the saddness is in the rain
the pouring tears of god as he looks upon his

hope
the joy of the cold and the friendship of our deepest love
and the falling feeling

donald and barry go to the park

much like today. Dry heat, slight breeze, perfect for
the skatepark. donald called barry at 10:30 am "what are you doing?"
donald always had the snappiest phone conversations
" you down to skate?"

"sure, what time"
barry drawed out like a midwesterner, not schooled in the slick cityslicker
speech of his friend.
"well give me a an hour I gotta shower then I want to get a cup of coffee..."
"okay so around noon."

"naw, no make it 12:30"
lilly was petting the cat on the bed
saying all kinds of cute phrases like
"yea, so cute little mouse...just the cutest baby, my baby"
the phone hung up and she asked
"who was that"
"donald. we're going to the skatepark in alameda at 12:30"

barry knew she didn't like it when he went on these
excurtions, because barry was broke and unemployed and dropped out of college;
because of the inability to get the loans for the rest of the schooling;
due to the fact he couldn't put gas in the tank.

the car was a 2003 sentra and it happened to be on E
for the last two days and barry knew it wasn't going to make it to the skatepark
or home but he ventured outside like a brave hermit crab would in the off season
and the car made it to donald's dads boat where donald was staying because of the
currrent circumstances of his loan for schooling. by the time barry parked and head for the peer
by qunn's light house. qunn's was this old lighthouse made into a restruant where you could
over look the boats and throw peanut shells on the floor of the restruant...barry wasn't allowed to have
peanuts because of an allergic outbrust a long time ago,actually it was at the skate park, too. before he left he made himself one of the oiliest, crunchest p&j's on toasted sourdough bread anyones ever seen, two hours later at the skatepark he broke out in hives and turned
beet red...
donald was petting a cat outside on the dock the cats relied on boat owners to feed them.
there must of been a dozen or so cats down there. donald greeted barry and unlocked the door, and headed out
"where do you want to skate?"

"I thought you wanted to go to the park?"

"yea, okay"

"I'm kinda low on gas"

"I can float you a couple bucks"

with that agreed barry thought okay I can get a couple bucks bring it back to E
with just enough fumes to peddal me home.
they got in the car and barry played donald the new material he was working on in the studio
donald liked it.
when they got to the park they met some city kids and skated for a good two hours
then when they decided to go back to the boat and drink and smoke weed because
the weather was to hot, at least for donald barry spent enough time in the humitiy of the midwest to know a perfect sunny day like this one. they hopped in the car and barry jerked the key back in for in the ignition
but nothing
"I'm out of gas."

"how low where you?"

"about two days of driving on E"

"what are we gonna do"

"I can call lilly to pick us up"

barry knowing this wasn't the best of options seeing as she was sick of opening the pocket book up
and bailing him out like a 2nd term failed president...
donald let barry use his phone, barry dialed.
when lilly picked up she was talking on skype to her friend in germany
and the tone of barry's vocie gave away his failure.
"I ran out of gas."

"I knew it. I knew you were gonna run out of gas."

"honey its I knew you were going to run out of gas."

"whatever, I'm not going to help you out, find a another way, where is the skatepark ?"

"google it."

"its not coming up, I'm not going to do it, I can't I gotta go to work
do you know how much stress this is for me."
lilly was conflicted.

"I'll try to find another way."

barry didn't know another way
he was stuck.
the phone conversation lasted a good 15miinute enough time for lilly to come and get them
but barry's and google's directions where too much for her at that juncture.

so barry told donald that they'd have to find another way to get home so they
packed all the belongings, valuables under the passenger seat locked the doors and
set foot to the pavement. along the way barry and donald found three new skatespots they wouldn't of found
if they drove. next donald couldn't take the heat so they'd have to find a hose to cool off and get a drink they found a drinking
fountain about three miles up. at the community college and then they cont. walking for another three miles before donald had to stop again this time they found gold in the form of the grand street bait and tackle
a hole in the wall dive bar oh yea and bait shop. They walked in and asked what would two dollars get them
and the bartener a slender mexican woman in her late 30s said they had cans of soda. donald asked
"what about beer?"

she said "sure two cans, over on the side in the cooler."

donald went and retrieved two cans of coors and she was going to put them a bag and warned them of being caught in public for open containers...."we'll drink em here."
barry and donald made there way through the darkness of the a dimly lit bar at 3:40 in the afternoon.
out side there was a little table with an ash tray and they sat down and opened heaven.
"the universe is smiling down on us."
donald said.

"sure is, we've stumbled into some kind of vortex and found the last place on earth to give us
beer for our last bit of spare change, the universe is really on our side."
barry commented as they toasted the best beer they ever earned.
after shitting around and talking about the events that transpired in the last 24 hrs they decided to
drink gin and tonics and smoke weed as soon as they got to donald's boat...which they did hours later
lilly called back and said she would pick barry up reluctantly
for this posed to be one of the many adventure that would transpire over the next two years.

black hole space black out

the last thing I was told before the collapse of our universe
was

" be sure to flush."

the vast vacuum of carbon doesn't
omit the fact that the poop
wouldn't stick to the inside of stars or gaseous matter
of heaven... if god is the future
mankind is the past


gather the masses tell them that the economy
is the least of our problems
the poop is piling up and no one
wants to become a garbage-man


remember


"be sure to flush"

halos and sinners of post mordern decay (a study of...)

simple
teeth
smile between the mirror
brushing away the languished
exhausted brow of the vendor
on the side of bancroft selling hot dogs
the banks are gonna shut down
the prophecy of past will
be seen and the money changer's system
will collapse into a billfold of coins
that won't fill a soda machine
or buy a candy bar

god forbid the use of our hands
into the dirt to create what he has given us
to eat...this is the greatest sin of man
to pay for processed foods that
keep our lives in disarray
and hinder the natural growth of the earths most natural
resource

FOOD


this system that they built is worth nothing
means nothing and will return to nothing


mock the hobo's words

"gotta dollar fo a mickey?"

reach into the wallet and get him drunk
for tomorrow sobriety
will come in the form of a park bench

the sorrow of a broken eagle wing

spit kickin
shit talking
FOOL

the world in all its splendor
rejects you

the women want nothing from
your lips

the men
want you locked up

the
higher educated want to understand
your obsession with failure

the poets
always
wanted your lips
sealed with
blah blah
blah

the
relinquished death
of your father's
legacy
your
mother's
health
the
credit
cards
max'd


you've failed the system
and the way of the world
rolls
its grip over your
frail stomach
the lower class
has been
isolated from the starving finger tips
of the middle class

and i watch my pride
get humiliated
in front of
the watch tower
of airport control
the road won't have me
______ who
________________________will?

I've been squandered
by convention
and convoluted
by technology

if I Die
open to suggestions
then I'll shrivel under a sun
that held a judgement
of character
in a pin needle
I'm the last
bull headed
die_hard
free man

and they'll have me

locked up in
two or three hours

bombs away
bombs away
calm
souls
and fishing line
the reels in the catch of
a
killer
the
insanity helps
figure out the
pain
by sinking teeth into

the skin of a mad man
gone soft


I've lost my way

too long ago
was peace in the heart
now
the
ache
of
let
downs,
hardships,
depression,

keep the nights
long
the
days
even longer
the
killjoy of it all

the dinosaur and me

fossil fuel farts
raggedy untrimmed beard
the
woman's fur and cave
need
refurnishing
the
meat on the fire
is small of a
t rex
baby

the
cave gets
moved
every
winter


the job
is
filed
under
hunting and gathering

the
waist
expands
and de-expands

the
grass need
a
mow

the computer
buried in the stone
has its place
in the
slow ram
of
a
poor man

the hand
of the
giant
is foiled

by the
slingshot

the underdog
of
the post millennium

computer trees

THE BUILDING WAS OLD, RATTY, AND RUSTED
THE FRONT DOOR CREAKED WHEN OPENED...
THE OLD MAN BEER GUT
WALKED THROUGH ITS ANCIENT
VORTEX
AND SAW HIS WAY TO THE RECEPTIONIST'S
DESK

"EXCUSE ME, CAN YOU DIRECT ME TO UNEMPLOYMENT?"

"YES SIR, ITS DOWN THE HALL 3RD DOOR ON YRR LEFT."

THE OLD MAN PEERED DOWN THE HALL AND SAW A
MASSIVE LINE STRETCHED TO THE END OF HEAVEN
AND MET WITH HIS HELL.

"OLD LEGS MIGHT NOT MAKE IT."

CHUCKLING IN MORNING SADNESS
THE SUN N'VER RISES WHEN
THE DARK DEPTH OF DEATH
SEE'S ITS WAY TO THE WAKING LIFE
THE MORTAL MAN IS IN TROUBLE

"NEXT...HELLO SIR HOW MAY i HELP YOU?"

"WELL, i NEED TO COLLECT SOME SORT OF CHECK
FOR THE POSSIBILITY OF FOOD AND WINE,
AS YOU KNOW THESE ARE SOME TROUBLING TIMES."

"YES SIR PLEASE FILL OUT FORM 1078 LINES 12 THROUGH 56
THEN SIGN AND BRING IT BACK UP HERE TO THE FRONT DESK, NEXT!"

SITTING IN THAT SEAT WAS THE OLD MAN'S DEFEAT
THE LASTING DREAM OF THIS AMERICA HAS FAILED HIM
AND HIS FELLOW
MAN

WORKING FOR WHAT?
THE YOUTH SEEM TO PARTY
THE NIGHT INTO THE DAY AND FEEL FREE ENOUGH
TO LAY IN A COMA TOASTDIGITAL CENTURY
THE OLD MAN FINISHED
LINES 12 THROUGH 56
SIGNED IT AND SENT BACK TO THE DESK.

"ALL DONE, OKAY GOD WILL SEE YOU SOON. PLEASE HAVE A SEAT."



FINISHED

economic hardship is the way of the road

bumper stickers
_________________
_________________
food ISN'T
for dinner
the belly
needs fuel
we are what the democracy
failed
and the great American hope
leaves...

bumper stickers
________________
________________

the earth the green
green eco living machine
is failing us
we hope the future for
our children
is seagulls
and sand
without
the human
condition

bumper stickers
________________
________________

the fishes
the gods
the battle
for the
creator
the neutral
atheist honks
cursing
gods


bumper stickers
________________
________________

my
bumper
is being
sold
soon
to
see
the sky
and moon at night
and the
food
is
for
the belly

end
the world

end


the
________
_____________BUMPER STICKER
WAR
OF THE WORLDS

the life back home isn't anything but a fireplace

a few of my brethren and sisters
know
the small-fish town
watering hole
where the beer
is the same
and the
sunsets and fireflies meet dusk

then those that truly get it see the world
the lasting way, by service.
their more noble kind
than myself

the rum and coke, the no sleep eyes
that crash and burn in wheels
of cars they didn't own
and time is coming
for another close
home hit

so the stargazers shoot across
skies in aero planes
of glee then
fade into space
wouldn't let
them
hold me down

captain

a selfish space monkey
freedom does exist
if you don't see
the fence...

the sleep in eyes is not the dust in dreams

foolish man
foolish boy
what is to be said about the
wrong of man
that would
reflect back in eyes of dismay
and dpression
t
h
e

last word we saw of this nature
was the last of a dying breed
of digital men and robot
fingers

I don't know if i belong to this
crazy man hunt
or the racing rat

the
truth is
fame isn't a door bell
to wealth

nor is the
creativity flawless

so they cover up there disfunction
with stressed muscles and
out stretched bitter
prude hands empty

love

was

washed away
in a wave of failure
welcome to

the shell

wings of a nun stay grounded in none

_____________________________we talked
________________________and found the

____________________chalk board filled with
_________naughty nature
_
___________________________________the kind that

_____________________lil children
________________________draw

_____________piss-pants
________and
______________________this
________and
______________________that

_____________i miss my spirit
_____while I feed
______________________the nature

____________such is like
________________________a
________________________child on a chalk
_____board

____without rewards only
_____punishment
________________can reveal the disciplines
____of a revolutionary
____that
____has
____stock piled
____________a arsenal
______of regrets
____________________and misfourtunes





I need to realize the
dance club
where shy men
hold tongues
b/c of beauty
that hasn't
formally
been
touched COME UNDONE



for elly

the clock is a shining memory of age

24 fl. OZ
of coors light
pumps through the keyboard

out shits a

barely wheat wit

that slurs his hatred
and consumes the good nature of
everyone

around him

belly
gut


button
love

if a child
was to come in this world
right now
he wouldn't know what to
say but
"kid, the bottle that feeds you never leaves yr lips
even at my age."

his/her big blue eyes
and drool slipping out the side-
smile would
look
back
and finally
feel
the nature
which sits is in us


ALL

if the lights and camera are rolling I'm ready for my close up

"...I'm a actor."

"what roles have you played."
..................she looks into certainty

"well, I acted like I was in a good relationship, was a nice charming fellow,
a good writer...the list really goes on."


butterfly glamor shots
was in
make up
for
hours

till they finally put a coat of
happy on soooo thick
my balls' profusely drip
sweat

the last dying leg of reality was shipped out through
doors
that
shut
on
me
like
a
bad
script
in
a
exec's office

the mail room clerk comes in...
{enter stage left with bag of cocaine}

" Mr. so-so super star, yr on in 5."

rushing lights I"ve been on set since
6am
and now you want
me to shower down
the golden
talent
of the
Greek gods?

musicman

he'd
bang on loud
drums
saying

things
like
'jesus will be here when we're dead or def'

but would they come true
would there be a sinner in all of us?
he'd cash in on the brown velet sand-skin
mattress under the overpass
he'd ask for crack-handouts
and lite trash at night
he
didn't look like
a
prophet
just
a
homeless
man
with lil
luck
and
a
stench
that
never
attracted
a
bee hive
of
behind
ass

I'm not
sure
prophets
care
about
ass


i sure
the
hell
do...

the end is the best, if the start never clicked

she
_________hogs
the pillows and blankets

its
not
the first time
i had to deal
with the
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ §§§§§§§§§§§ ....... leaving
of long lips,
or the legs that had me wrapped
around and clutched.
a fashion of constriants
it was the first real time
i felt that the
world would
enclose on myself.
and the only thing
I could show for anything
was that
I had a dying love of the
arts and song.
no woman would stop
the writing
no matter how they tried to change me...
it couldn't be done
over night or in
a days of yelling

in daze of
```````````````````` uncertainty
I wept for her because
i saw
her for the helpless
hopeless puppy eyed
clench
the
dog bowl
of dried food
untouched,
the water with hair
in it.
the door would open and the mutt
would run and jump up and down
humping my leg
and finally I saw it...the end
was in sight

freedom
is the spirit
of
wanders
and panhandlers

I wish
to be
poor
so
I tapped
my heels
three times
and
said
"there's no place like
the road"

life's short

"I don't care about
that kinda shit.
I'm going to die
and
that
couch
will still be here.
I mean,
what's the point...



not life.

the couch."

lost shoe lace

"it
wasn't
my
fault
that
the
donkey
of
the
city
would
kick
yr ass"

tom
was
a
drunk,
not a mean one,

but
a
drunk
he'd
push
people
over
piss
himself
punch
friends
stab
the
carpet
and
cry

when
the
crowds
left

he
knew
he
lost
something


a
comedy
show
laughter
is sought
out
by
fools
but
__________the
crowd
goes numb

just then,
tom
holds
his
dick
and crop dust's
the whole front row

blaming life
going
hard
on some
girl's
24
birthday

youth group 92'

"HEY GANG!
listen up,
quiet... i need yr attention
remeber to pack warm for the ski trip to moon dance mountain."

moondance was this sorry excuse for a ski resort in iowa
it was a little hill w/a couple snow-making machines
that pump'd out
soft white
fanatasy flakes
for the poor farm kids
to
fall/slide down

"the trip is gonna be way cool
we got some alone times planned for the guys."
the youth paster dan tells us
we sigh*******

"and the girls are gonna go with my
wife ann"

dan's wife never kissed him till
the alter you wouldn't see em
hold hands or barely smile at each other
this made attending these events more grousome.
along side the hymns and the bible applicatable
teen-age scripture

as to say here
HERE's a WAY to deal with the
drugs and sex topics
the same way jesus
would deal with shit?

kids at that age want to cause
rukus and grow
like
wild
devils

the ones that remained
lacked
the
knowledge
cuz
they
never risked the pain and hurt of suffering
under the truth of
freedom+++++

ann shoemocker
was
to be
dan bownski's
love affair

dan was
an aging
mid 30s
born again, gut staring down
the signs of demesication
old class clown that
found
chirst


where was the son of man
hiding?????
an old relinguished
teenage
tom
hanks like in BIG

he never had the spotlight
but was
"redeemed" under a
"higher calling"

who makes the call
is it an angel
"oh yeah dan this is saint peter
no, no the one at the gate....
what gate?...heaven...yep...no...well
its about your calling."

the godly ministry
of the church to god
and away from the ills
of society's sinners
he was the same kinda
of guy that had a
chirstian youth news
article on
how to talk
the
hip new lingo
that the kids where sayin
but it was always three years
late on slang
and had know connecting value in the reality
of the childerns lifes'

this was my youth my shaping of
vaules

a revolutionary internet hacker

reform....for those who think wisedom
is skin deep
look through the hearts of men

to find
spirits....that keep us inspired

you capture the mind


wait till the body decays...



spirit is all
one
will
be
left
with
.
.
.
keep shining
yr spirit
soon
you
could
free
the island...

keep strong

keep up the war

modern poets

modern poets are dull
========= and only seem to focus
on some inner
shallow
monologue,
that only strings
the reader along
with a jr high

dance equivalent


wishing
to
grab the
female's ass
and cop

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\||||||||||||||||a feel of virginity before


it leaves their little penis'
________________________hard for candy

they forgot about
the soft depreciated flabby skin
that holds their
slimline-cased souls in

if they were to let go maybe, just maybe


they could remember
it ain't about
the pussy
but the
elegant
dance
of a
:::::::::::: ballroom

and then
they could
truly

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::Dance their
little
lives
*************************away

poor genius

I'm A GENIUS


that's what barry wants on his tombstone

"I want the world to know"
he's not like the fools at the market place

you see leaving with a nights meal. no.

he was a gentlemen lover of many women
in his young prime, now pot belly sinks low and the eyes
black
bags
as
if
too
say
*************
*************
***********&*
& to the races!!!!



...nothing of that sort
this was more dangerous.

"barry's been off to college
for the last five years and never had

a
cavity."



his

mother

told

st
ra
ngers

th
is

almost everyday
and
he'd___________
hold
his nuts
on the dinning room table
after dinner


and laugh at the lot

"yr all a bunch of sissy's and cowards..."

no one paid mind

barry was just having it out
w/ the Big guy...you know?...God.


thats what mother told people

big

DOWNFALLS

ADD

UP

WELCOM
E
TO


THE PICTURE SHOW.

back in the day

remeber when

we gave two shits

the poetry was better
and
the women use to flock
doves flap in broken wind
the lake-brown-water
where swans sit
are polluted
the streets
are
taco trucks
and flat gum
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
...
...
.......the need to rember when
time was bout
GI joes
and soakin
them in
hair spray
...
...
...
****
lighting
the
match

and

watching the world

burn
to the
ground

"hold on my Iphone
is Idialing in my pocket
and My Ieye in Iblind"

the

remembering of a simple
childhood pile of
leaves
in a digital
photo
of
Igreengrassinthemiddleofwinterandthe
picture


is



blurred

welcome
to
memories

"mushroom head welcome to the information age."

the night was
long

like those days that
never end.
but if you see the sun rise
while playing a casio keyboard,
you picked up in Denver
at an arc thrift store,
while with yer ole
lady shopping for the
trinkets of joy,
then you'd know
that this night was all about the
lights and the
highs

and the sesame honey covered cashews
and the
starburst jelly beans of joy
that made (mixed with the weed, beer, shrooms,and valum)
the belly ache

constant trips to the bathroom
to
see if yr face melted completely
and fell into yr heart
and morphed
to a beating lust
of self


then we can talk
of

what

joy

was
robbed

when

we

assumed
that the world was going to end

and we hadn't seen the old country
of men wrinkled at the sight of the new world
she told me the euro
was good to her

and a bed was made just waiting for me

.
.
.
good night

6am
sunrise over oakland
the stems and caps
wore
off...back to

slumber-all-salty-the night
semen didn't stick to our
visions of ego

ready aim fire


this

is
to
be
the sure

shot of

hell

wooden nickels

wooden nickels

balloon
throat

bubble-skin

troubble
keeping

the


air___________IN

needles
poke

hives

to die


close to death

sigh


why

not

this
time

so
elusive
the
woodennickel
it just can't buy

that
luck


deth
is
the
hustle


live is the scam

and
lambs
blood
stains
the front door

chewing
on
wooden

nickels

wooden nickels

THE ROOM

WAS
WHITE

AND HAD THESE SHELL-LIKE
SHEETS THAT HUNG TO KEEP
THE DYING FROM SEEING THE LIVING
I WAS GOING TO BE EITHER
NOT SURE OF MY SHEET
THE NURSE
ENTERED
AND ASKED ABOUT
THE BREATHING
"WELL ITS BEEN HARD TO BREATHE
SINCE THE PEANUTBUTTER AND JELLY SANDWICH
THAT I MADE THREE HOURS AGO"

AT THAT TIME FIVE NURSES
STROLLED IN
AND STARTED
FILLING MY ARMS
WITH BEAUTIFUL
NEEDLES
AND THEN
THEY LEFT ME TO SLEEP
IN A DRUGGED COMA
OF RELAXATION
THEN THEY GAVE ME PILLS
AND SENT ME ON MY WAY I HAVEN'T SLEPT IN FIVE DAYS
AND
I THINK

#########
#########
THINK
I'D

RATHER
EAT A
ANOTHER PEANUTBUTTER
AND
JAM
SAM

AND NEVER
BREATHE
THE SMOG IN
AGAIN


WOODEN
NICKELS
ARE
POSION
THAT
WAS
THE BEST
DEATH
ONE COULD
HOPE
FOR

excerpt from new short story

Barry was blue, not sad, but bright blue.
he wore a lime green scarf with a checkered blue and white collared
shirt. his girlfriend bought his clothes mostly at the salvation army.
his girlfriend was skinny,akward, and referred to as the junk lady by most the town's
inhabitants. When they would drive around getting lost in the nearby cities
he'd yell at the top of his lungs "FIX YR FUCKIN STREETS DENVER!!!!!"
as they sunk in each pot hole. While driving over the speed limit by 8 miles, this was thier first rocky mountain adventure barry had been on since his days with the missionaries of his humble parish. In the foothills of the small village where he spent most of his devloping adolessence. when growning up he felt like he was unlike anyone.
Execpt when he was 12 yrs old he slipped his tongue on liqour and the neighborhood
was the stomping ground of fools. they'd run inside and get their fathers .357 handguns and point them at barry.
Mostly out of envy and jealously for barry was a true freeman, a true free spirit.
Unhindered by conventions or regulations

"anyone would hate someone with such vigor!"
he'd tell the junk lady
while turning down colfax
on the way to the riteaid to purchase chirstmas cards and hair brushes.
On nights barry had to hold down his part time job...his girl would go to the store and pick up some food at the local market.
she'd make
salads, tacos, mac n' chesse, homemade pizzas...
they ate on an air matress and watched
007 the ones with roger moore.
"I quite like this one...where dr. no's
layer is deep in the swizz alps..."
the junk lady would say
before thumb sucking and hair twirling would commense.
she told barry that the thumb sucking claimed her down.

....."it clams me."

why? yah look stupid doing it."

Well...I've been doing it for 25 fuckin years!!!"

"that's my probelm with it. you're 25!"


if they ever argued it was over trivial things like this.
Barry would masterbate whenever he could, usually when lilly
was in the shower once he did his dirty deed into a tissue.
then when the shower water turned off. ubruptly tuck his blue vien back into
his boxers, shove the kleenex in his left pants pocket.
the next day at the supermarket barry reached in his left pocket and sure enough pulled out a dry crusty tissue of self loathing.
It was right by the meat alse...self conscious of the fishy smell he picked
up a pack of shrimp...
"let's cook this with rice and a nice wine."
lilly was an excellent cook
she spent most of her time in the kitchen
mixing spices and herbs into grains and sauces.
the food always tickled Barry's throat and gut.
they'd spend an average of 40$ a week on booze.
Barry would drink white russians, Long Islands,mudslides, liqour 43,
jack and cokes, by the time Barry was 29 he already had two beer guts and was
working on a 3rd.
"mostly saving up for a rainy day with the grand children."

motel 6 blues

I'm
__________just a

cheap
******* bar********
of

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$thin



soap


paper
white
towels

interchangable
lights
switch


re
enforced
locks

the envy

of

skid
row

the
road

home
toad
of
long
suffering

three days
where the
highway

from the
70 (east)

to

the

80
(west)
^^^^^^cable channel stuck on
++++ cartoon
networks^^^^^^^^
to

the

61
north
54
west
35
south

40
west

5
north

580

880

80
....just a bar of soap
not scented
not
cared
for

disregarded
and

fresh linens

after I placed
that
room card
on the
counter

"room 221...room 229..."

"how much
for
one
halo?"


>>>>>>>>>>>>"that'll be 35.99 plus tax..."


weary eyes cloud
"I take it."

I
first
tried to sleep
at
a
rest stop
next
to truckers

with their
lights dimed
and televisions

playng::::::::}}}}}{{{{{{



american flags
tacked up
to
cover
the
sunlight

road
warrior-nomads

they
speak in
tongues

MY LOST LOOKER OF LOVE

longed
liquid
lush-lunch
lengthened
legs
on
linens
line
the
lust
w/
lips
lick lungs taste
language
.

life is like camping before you die

SHE
SUCKED
AT
SICKLE
HONEY
SUCKLE
SAT
SASSY
ON
HER
SAGGING
SACHELS
SADDLE
BAGS
SHOT
UP
SPINE
SPRINKLES
OF
GOLDEN
SHOWERS
SLIPPED
DOWN
SIDEWALKS
SHE
SLID
WALKED
SLIPPING
SLIPPERY
WET
STOCKINGS
AND
ALL...

old songs

they
______tell

me
.............of

now
::::::and

then


when
:::::::life
was
-------easier
to
dream
in



and
greener
grass
was
in
::sleep**********

slowly
we
age


hair on back
shaving ear lobes


and

trying to
save

hard bucks earned


but
°°°°°°°°°nothing
seeks
______out
the recluse

__________he
__________is
__________un
__________able
__________to
__________leave
__________his
__________dwelling.

The
end
of


:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::old
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::songs...


old
like
yesterday



songs...like

hummingbirds

or

songs
like
numb
driving
radio hits
................______(trips)

and
the
Television
suffers
:::::::::::w/o
___________depth


camera flashes.


They
_____talk of
_____britney's
children

and running
____red lights.

drug test
of
the


WHO'S WHO


but they to
are old songs

_______________old
_______________like
_______________yester
_______________day


songs
like
___woodpeckers

or
songs
like
plastic surgery
gone
wrong.

we're

old
songs,
awaiting
new
formats

_________D
_________Y
_________I
________N
_________G
I
N

D
I
G
I
T
I
A
L

____WON'T

Be
as
::::::::fun

bye
analog
::::::::::WORLD

good
bye


my

old

song

buildings are nothiing but bricks

jeans
___torn
_______showers
vacant


the

fragrant


s
m
e
l
l

emulates

from

faberic

3
old

days

SOMEONE
********HAS******
AN ED OPUS COMPLEX
HE
THOUGHT
I WAS

A
MESSENGER...

CONFUSED
HE
AWAITS
THE
REFUTING




...BUMBLING
FOOL...



i
SUPPORT
(YOU)

AGE

AGE
___IS HAPPENING ALL AROUND ME

:::::::::::WATCHING
::::BIRDS PERCH IN BETWEEN
************************DIAMOND CHAIN
________________________________LINKED
________________________________FENCES
}}}}}FRIENDS HAVE WEDDINGS,
$$$$$]]]]]]]]]]]] CHILDREN,
)))))))))))))))))))))))))BUYING
"""""""""""""""""""""""""____---HOMES
WITH FULL BASKET BALL COURTS IN THEIR
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^BACKYARDS
SLEEPING ON AN AIR MATTRESS
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@WRITING WORDS IN
A STUDIO APARTMENT
######### THAT BELONGS TO TELLY, WE'VE BEEN MAKING SONGS
&&&&&& TALKING
ABOUT ALL THE CRAZY MUSIC
++++++++++++++++++++++++++THAT'S
_________________________________BEEN
SHAPING THIS NEW CITY GYPSIES
______________________________GENERATION
THE RECLUSIVE YOUNG-SAINTS
COMPOSER W/ HONEST PROSE
PAINTING PICTURES OF OAKLAND
OR
THE
MILES
DAVIS
OF
OUR
MADLIB GENERATION
JAMES JOYCE
MAD GENIUS OF
MF DOOM

THE WILD NEW BLUE NOTE-STONES THROW


AS I SIT AND
_______WATCH
___________aGE
____TAKE MY MIND-GUT
FRIENDS
HAVING CAREERS FORM

(FAMILY)

)))BROTHERS((( STARTING FAMILIES
______WORKING
______HONEST.


i STILL CALL
HOME
FOR MONEY
TO PAY
-____--__-_-___--__-___--MY BILLS
AND
____EAT
AS

I TRAVEL
___TO
NEW CITIES; HOMELESS
POPPING PILLS
TRYING TO LAND
A
GOOD JOB AND START A DECENT LIFE
_____MY LALILOVE FLIES FROM
GERMANY ON OCT 30TH 2007
TO STAY WITH ME FOR 3 MONTHS
W/ A POSSIBILITY OF US GETTING MARRIED DOWN @ THE
______________________________________________COURT
______________________________________________HOUSE
IF
POSSIBLE
DEPENDING
ON, IF SHE CAN GO AND VISIT GERMANY WITH IN TWO YEARS
AND IF SHE LIKES DENVER, BUT I'M NOT SURE I LIKE DENVER
I'LL
TRY
TO
ENROLL
IN
SCHOOL
BACK
IN
THE
BAY
AREA
IN
MARCH.
AGE IS HAPPENING ALL
AROUND ME.

I
STILL WANT
TO LIVE
ON SCHOOL
LOANS
SO I CAN
WRITE
W/O HAVING
A
__JOB
___SO
I CAN
GAIN
KNOWLEDGE
AND

PAY MY BILLS...WITH LITTLE TO NO
_____RESPONSIBLY________________
MY FATHER GOT
_____________HIS
____FIRST
_____REAL
JOB
IN HIS MID 30S
ALSO MET
MY
MOTHER
AND
SHE
WAS
PREGNANT WITHIN
2 MONTHS WHILE BOTH OF
______________________THEM
ATTENDED A THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY..
_______HALO'S
AND SAINTS
BORN OUT OF LUST
________________THEIR SANCTIFICATION
WAS TAINTED
LIKE
ALL
OF
OURS.

AGE IS HAPPENING
_______________ALL
AROUND US...
MY FATHER'S HEARING AID IS GETTING
OLD.

MY
___MOTHER'S GUT IS FAILING
A
N
D

I LOOK IN THE MIRROR
AND
SEE
A
FACE OF BOTH

LOSING MY HEARING
_________________AND DEALING
WITH MY
ULCERS......................I TOO
FALLEN PREY
TO
FALLEN
PREY
TO
FALLEN
***GR
***AC
***E

LOSS
OF
SAINTHOOD

OH
LORD
WHERE
IS
MY
DREAM...?
HAS
IT
TOO
FALLEN
PRAY

_____________TO

AGE???

GROWN UP COSMO GIRL

""""""""""""""""THE ASS
""""""""""""""""AND TITS
""""""""""""""""WILL SAG
""""""""""""""""AND BUTTS
""""""""""""""""WILL GET
""""""""""""""""OLD. TRY
""""""""""""""""TOO HOLD
""""""""""""""""ON GIRL
""""""""""""""""BUT ITS
""""""""""""""""TOO LATE.
""""""""""""""""SHE SHOWERED
""""""""""""""""SHAME, WORN
""""""""""""""""GUILT AND
""""""""""""""""THEN TICKETED
""""""""""""""""HER WAY
""""""""""""""""BACK INTO
""""""""""""""""ARMS...



GROWN UP
___________COSMO
____GIRL

earthquake mirror

___the
________Lilly
__wilted;
_________the
_____roes
______________fell
_a
___p
_______a
____r
____________t
___the
_______c*o*n*c*r*e*t*e
:::::::::::::::::::::::::put
::::::::::the
:::::::::::::::foot
______________down
___________________a
____jungle
______________was
______made
__________to
______jump
______________up
________&
_____________down
_______till
___________she
_____________shakes
________back
___________with
________________such
______________________vigor
______that
________we'd
_________________pee
________our
_________________-pants
__:__
__:__



that
we'd
pee
our
pants
up
&
down
till
she
shakes
back
with
such
vigor
the lilly
wilted;
the rose
fell
a
p
a
r
t
the
concrete
put
the
foot
down

a
jungle
was
made


to
jump

LA/IOWA/AZ/San Deigo/The BAY/DENVER

born and raised

here


did my schooling
here


partied
and got the inspiration here

struggled and barely stood a float
here


a

new job
here...



the train of Kerouac haunts
my window in east Oakland
rushing bye
making sure I never sleep so I can take

all this

life

in

I meet people
I try to be
filled an anxious answer
to all the suffering
but I knew that saints march in
only to be victorious in heaven
and
despised on earth


my birth name
means God supports

and he does
he is often the leg
that keeps my crutch
together

long ago
I got the sickness
and

since then I've been
poor and hidden from this world now I'm lashing out

I only wanted to

be

an artist

in this world

and to

paint and

gain the

fame

that only

comes to the shit kicking

poets


of
yester year


now the long lost

Ideal of

social movements takes the hind
seat for
some

foolish race to media

glamor butterfly shots

they forsake their
character

to chase

bills that buy packaged-processed
foods

0 trans fat!
0 trans fat!

this is on all food
so fat people think

skinny is in their grasp

in there


reach for some kind of
immortal US weekly cover


the

trick

is
to believe

that someone out there
is better than God

once you buy it

you're no longer able to see

yr forehead and heart will be marked


I'm that last call

booze on Sunday
stale Monday morning

________________grave


there was this one time where the inspiration was so
profound that I got goose bumps and the air changed scents

the world was
alive
and I knew

it



it all changes

in a

beating

of blood racing
through

hearts



here

we

are

with a
car
load of belongings


not

belonging


to

anything