There’d be no unemployment, no crime, no war for profit; no environmental hell
for thousands of good-hearted lives.
You can’t just take so much paper so putting it off would mean at least ten
not calling till the 11th hour and hoping that you’ll forget what you needed —
i’m in a zoo somewhere between silence and (a)the mad hatter’s court of love
where the loneliness could prove impossible; i’ve been way too loquacious all day
all this time i’ve been riding in this very leather-bound bus how’d i get to this
zoo? maybe too much of this
counting bills counting wheat in the fields
counting my cash on the street
counting time in a silence-devoid world
The natural state of mankind is boredom trying to find the meaning in something so small
i’ve got too many words up in my head!
If you see a stranger carrying an extra pair of sunglasses, don’t steal them. We all
have them. They’re free.
Once in a lifetime, you meet someone who seems to have no fear. They don’t blink. They have
nothing to lose. I used to wish there was someone like that in my life, but all I’ve got
is a little bit of fear.
You can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. What can I say?
Lizard-head heartbroken the love has gone — boo hoo you’re so fine, mama
: first wind it and you want to know if I still love you?
YOU, COME IN HERE, DON’T LEAVE until YOU’VE JOKED AND BEEN WRITTEN!
TIME DRIVER, THE NAMECHE MACHINE la dolce vita what a wonderful disguise
and this has been my argument ever since it’s as true today as it was then, for there’s a new king
who’s clothed in human suffering’s radiance treating it like toothpaste to his face
waiting for us to laugh at the pretend form of our wives and to learn from the conman; he’s played
all his own moves, but he’s still just a kid.
So we all shut up, on a rampage of rants and sarcasm to serve the king’s audacity; nobody wins forever
who’s ever been “the funny” when you wanted to be “the wise”?
we’re here to pick up the pieces, we get the job done, we go home
we’ll never see the boy king’s face until the queen’s hair grows back
(and he gets wise and goes home to his queen and gets “the funny” back) if the boy king turnS on us
we’ll all be dead, so, sing, ride, don’t sweat the consequences of casual cynicism, anything goes;
wear my crown and be the greatest boss of all.
i love you.
:: 01.29.2021 ::
manipulate my brain damage my connection
i’m your lonely patient like burning liars in
a blanket of ash
so perturbed by my mind you remove
parts of my heart-brain and the voices stop
and i’m so comforted by my loss, of mind;
and i’m so relieved
by the loss of my life;
it creates a circular lesion within my brain
:: — 08-05-2016 — Rev: 11-01-2016 ::
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