(2014)
yeah, the contract the social one, so long ago supposedly agreed to, we were born instead into. what
every story, especially those promising finally to grant the square hat with tassels, is a load of shit. the god which
simply knowing you’re in a maze doesn’t get you out, but the fact is the foundation
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
here’s a story. it may even be true. where i come from nothing ever sucks, so i
life and even one good thing– anything, a course in wonders becomes? no school, thanks not for me. no lesson one so likes declaring to find itself legs. no
there are never really any angels in god’s company, it really just pretends them
so, i’m in this spiritual war. maybe you aren’t, but i am. many great losses
root it out the tiny bit left that says someone’s in charge not you. don’t let it live
we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…
does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you
why is nothing i can do now. where it went. what that echo means, if anything
my spirit sings to you, clears and quickens. losing you is impossible
finally, without knowing it was coming, he got to die. it was great. like a birthday party clown, he was equally the center
love does not beat on doors, beg at tables. it is always