Glory Hole |
............
....Im spinning drunk and dizzy on a
razor wire
Tossing all my holy books into a
fire
Im gonna butterfly and dive without
the aid of a net
Gentlemen and ladie... Posted by on Thu, 24 Sep 2009 17:12:00 GMT |
Red |
All my angels bleeding needlesDancing in the killing fieldsTelegraphed on razor wireWingless in a world on fire Scarlet doesn't come for meBut look at all she's done for meTied me to a bed of mirrorsS... Posted by on Thu, 09 Apr 2009 23:46:00 GMT |
Quill or Queen |
In the routines of his solitudeHis mission becomes clearHe's a pen, and a handAnd some words just waitingTo be written on your airDevil infected, silence-inspectedAll his failures ressurectedTo fill y... Posted by on Fri, 14 Nov 2008 08:54:00 GMT |
Isolation Reaction / Hope You Guessed My Name |
I curse the fact and crucifiction
I dig the craters on the moon
I put the dick into the diction
Of song sung blue with kiiler croon
I'm the bite that poisoned Batman
I'm the guy your parents ... Posted by on Sat, 04 Oct 2008 08:06:00 GMT |
The Radio |
It all started with the radio. And for years in the humble brown-shingled house on Dartmouth Ave. in Dedham, it's THE radio--the only one in our home, because it's all we can afford. These days, with... Posted by on Sat, 04 Oct 2008 01:09:00 GMT |
Halloween (lyric) |
Noc-turned me from my many mansions
Prodigal sun will take me me back
And this trick of time and space between
Is just a fever dream
A many mirrored house of wane and wax
I see what's underneath you... Posted by on Thu, 02 Oct 2008 17:07:00 GMT |
My Phantom Limb |
It's a Boston autumn Friday night. It seems mere moments ago that the sun streamed molten honey through cracked clouds to set the burnished leaves aflame, dapple the sidewalk with a rich golden ... Posted by on Sun, 28 Sep 2008 07:27:00 GMT |
August |
"The King Is Dead but We Stay Dreamed" - PA / 85Sunday afternoon, and dad's piled the whole family into the brand-new Blue Buick, a beautiful car, a thing of wonder. God knows how he afforded it... Posted by on Sat, 20 Sep 2008 00:31:00 GMT |
Haircut ’77 |
> "Go down the street to the barber and get yourself a> haircut." It's a Saturday in early summer, 1977. Oh,> no. No. I don't want to get a haircut. But mom's> command is... Posted by on Sat, 13 Sep 2008 19:37:00 GMT |
LOVE AMERICAN STYLE |
I hear the sirens scream
Beneath the blues of the moon And the death chatter babies
Drawing nightmare cartoonsAll the angels are dancing
On pins and needles and spoonsWhile the plastic priests
Pro... Posted by on Sun, 07 Sep 2008 00:07:00 GMT |