there was this bit i meant to put down for you- another flood of disconnected imagery washing away the markings on the milestones. assorted recollections of dalliances with the kingsport downtimers- introduced at the golden rail over a pint of loudmouth malted, "i never had nothing all my days," he said, knocking ashes into his lap unaware i was ( Read more... )

a stark sunday of cold shivers and broken promises, running away from everyone, hiding in the closest patch of quiet trees i knew of, perched on a fallen tree arching over a rushing creek, pretending to still be an animal, curling against the wet bark when a car drove by on the road that ran alongside the creek only a few yards away. a girl comes ( Read more... )

aroused to no end
the fear-me speaker crackles down the street
saying "all rise and select your medicines"
it's a case of civil disobedience
yes m'am, i'll support your life system
but you've got to do me your part
so help me open the door
because what i've got is gold
but i just can't sell it no more

(1) head's in the beehive, scoping out all stinging situations again, but no takers, here we go on that inevitable rant about the scamphouse in the conduit... spizzy interface, right? right? that's what i kept saying, but no one tends to agree. just laughs in the back and references later to the declining quality of stage show, undue silliness ( Read more... )

woke up late yesterday afternoon, went by my mom's work and took her some lunch, then barreled over to kingsport, windows down, laughing manically because i was genuinely happy, warm sun and loud music propelling me down the road. got to o'charley's but james was not yet cut from work, so he set me up at the bar on his tab where i proceeded to ( Read more... )

out in the woods ( Read more... )

there's no point in these casual casualties of emotions, the infrequent trampings of the soul under the heavy weight of happiness? there isn't much good in indexing every critical hit to the protective shell? every ancient poet has died a blasphemous death clinging to the stale memories of the passions he burned bright in his youth, refuting his ( Read more... )

so i could sit here and keep posting pages out of my notebook but that's not getting anything done. i'm getting sick and i have to go sell plasma for food money because i just spent my food money on gas so i could go apply at an inventory company that my uncle works for. i wish i had some orange juice. i probably wouldn't feel so blah if i had ( Read more... )

i'll never forget the day ( Read more... )

janitorial logicstuck in a banjo rut ( Read more... )