"Feeling is first."
Old Man
Boston, Massachusetts
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original material by daily beard
(c)2007 all rights reserved
This
Daily Beard has been
playing bass, making art and writing in the self-taught fashion for a lot longer than it takes most people to get there. For certifiable ages over a middle-age he has
been hiding out in the dusty old cocoon-womb of a one room shack in the
basement of a brownstone in Boston.
With all the vigor and vim of some (think moldy bread) barely
dead great and-so-on grandson of some deposed Roman Emporer in a tomb,
he's busied his world-weakened fingers, limbs and lips by estranging
himself from his family of shit, walking to and from the Way Station of
Life repeatedly with an empty can of gasoline, by making a thousand
old-fashioned pots of coffee on top of the stove, obsessive dream
journaling, typewriters and haiku, holding kissing contests where
nobody would dare to even show. Due to rain, Daily Beard just kept
saying "Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow."
And when Tomorrow never did make its way back from the Easter parade, Hopeless converted to the somewhat Buddhist Arrived and then This came home naked and in love with Today.
woolly!