Friday, May 29, 2009


i stuck my music in my shoes so the pick pocketers can't steal my tunes.
"i stuck it in my underwear because no one ever goes down there"
it makes my feet sore
"i've got ants in my pants"
i'm letting it go
"no save it up, don't you want them to hear your sound loud and clear?"
it won't matter when the time comes.

all she ever wanted was something that was her own, something she could share with others so they would remember to love her.
"oh, i want to sing these tears to sleep, can you make music with the light? these things always taste so good going down, but they grow rancid in my stomach"
your eyes are seeping some strange liquid
"i hope it tastes like candy"
it's nothing so sweet.

there is no music to be had hear
what a brick, what a brick
there is no sound to be found round here
what a trick, what a trick

she has words, piles of words stacked up in here closet, where the clothes should be. which word should i wear today?

witch baby

She sits at the table by the window and plays the guessing game most days. She is one of those strange people, that isn't lonely, one of those people that is unreachable, too good for this world. She reminds me of Townes Van Zandt, the way she lives haphazardly, moving so fast, but so slow, always throwing people behind her. The type of person that never lets you know anything about them, not because they don't want you to know, but simply because you could never know. These people are angels. They are lovely in their tragic way and as much as you know you don't want to be them, you do.
She knows everything. I don’t mean the cheap dirty kind of knowledge that helps people get jobs and win money on game shows. The pure intuitive type of knowledge. She sums everything up in a look. I can see it as she stares out the window looking at all the people. She likes this game that she plays, the guessing game.
She sees a couple walk by and they clench their hands together, as though they would lose each other if they weren’t holding on. Then the girl with a razda hat and dreads walks by, braless, careless to the point of being moody. You can tell she is so concerned about not caring, that she is not enjoying herself. The true version of what this girl wants to be is walking right behind her, wearing a slight smirk, and strutting in a way that lets you know she is ready for whatever is going to happen, but she isn't waiting for anything. The boy behind this girl, he is pale and awkward. He walks cautiously and keeps his eyes straight forward; if he doesn't look at anyone, anything, he will remain invisible and he feels safer that way.
I walk up to this deathly pale, wiry haired angel with the piercing blue eyes. I want to see her as she sums me up. This girl is fierce, her eyes are the ocean, she is rough and dirty, her hair is in knots, and she is the prettiest thing I have ever seen. Oh, she is tragic, as though she holds all the sadness in the world.

enjoy your stay

hey toe tapper
i haven't seen you around
since the new feminine phenomenon
yeah, we wear wrist watches now.

jitter bug love.
we've got nothing but smiles.
so shine on miss sun-blissed.

mr. ax man.
cut me off.
i'm intoxicated on the love soaked drama.
i've got a mind void that i just can't see.

ms. sex addict.
it's okay to give it all you've got.
sometimes you have to pay to get paid baby.

yo giggle girls.
we've got your hearts duct taped together.
we know the new age spandex days have just begun.
we're ready.

why hello mr. heartbreaker.
i hear your kiss left a bad flavor.
you left a trail of empty words.
we're onto you.

good bye miss i know me.
wipe off those gritty teeth begin.
we hear that you love mysteries.
welcome to the new view.

scattered sentences

if tomorrow was the start of forever
i used to
read uncle walt

because he was
never too vulgur
and he knew
whats up

but now
all i want is some anger
with a dash of indifference
because it tastes better

everyone always says
"it's just a phase"
as though to say
it's o.k.
it will all be over

but each phase
is taking
my time
and i think
i want it

could you send it
in the mail?
i'll be home all day
don't stop by
i'll be busy

for this kid
i used to know
he has something
of mine
and i think

he'll drop by
and things
will be better
than they are today
and if he doesn't
i'll still be busy
eating my socks
for breakfast

about me
i can be
less than charming
when i forget
to be charming.

(if i
told you
about my bicycle

would you
be my new friend?)


i still have
your toothbrush
i'm too cheap
to get my own

it's orange
and says
you left it here
in april 2008

but i'm not worried
that you'll be back
to get it
because we haven't
been friends
for months

a letter

my dearest



and a little
bit messy

i'm not quite sure
my point is