why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything
you’ve been invited, stupid asshol… to remember things differently, wh… it means to be human, even. dumb shit, you’ll always let someone el… handle it, whatever always happens
first fruits hardly a handful, the garden
cool this angst some with beer, amazing how it works, three in and suddenly ashamed that i could hate
now, I’m no Bukowski but my friends who don’t like poet… except his stuff, tell me they like mine, and I can drink like a drinking machine
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…
got the sex drive of 15 young bulls, but the women are all scared.
if i stub my fucking toe it’s their fault so say i, and who could argue? you almost
of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,
when (finally) we meet I’m thinking spring wildflowers will bloom on high
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
a breeze. already know what’s what. shut up. kiss her. shut up...
a few hundred million dying days later he emerges into crazy
people, mostly all barely beyond apes, cannot be trusted. they are incapable of caring