every doughnut tastes like tauntin… classmates laughing and making jokes at your expense every slice of pizza reminds you
in one kiss four lips translate all the languages of the world into a story none of us understand
early this morning fresh was the only way we could imagine ourselves soft to the teeth
if significant to one and not to another maxims adages cliches
on a night back in 1998 at the 24 hour Happy Chef diner in Fort Dodge, Iowa when both of us were drunk and stoned
when she wants only to see the heavens choke patience lost in all things
with the lamplight at my back it feels like someone else is ther… my ears are full of wax and ghosts everything i hear is haunted headphones plugged into a headston…
thoughts on the police not that they are the bad guys they just work for them
i would never say that Rock N’ Roll saved my soul but i will say that it helped me figure out what
dressed only in screams showered with water and death life escapes by drain
race against midnight an eleventh hour dash for the quick finish
THE ARTIST constantly trying to get somewhere he
that moment right after you’ve finished readin… when the mind gets to digest and what Jeffers referred to as “The honey of peace”
illuminated with the yellowish-ora… parked alone now waiting to be driven away by the last man at the office dedicated to his job
i can smell a clue about as well as a rock and if you’re waiting for me under a rock
