everytime |
everytime i think my glass is half emptyi fill my cup with sinand feel full again¡¡¡¡!!!!!
Posted by on Wed, 16 Dec 2009 14:15:00 GMT |
large cigars |
ants thread their way through yellow thistleby a road that drives like dropped noodlesand though we've said it allwe just like talking to you about space and the moonand how the sun is rising soonhe w...
Posted by on Wed, 30 Sep 2009 00:32:00 GMT |
taking it in, having a taste |
years turn into monthsthe months turn into daysand days into hoursand now i've swallowedthe stone of the cherryso slowly i will grow intothe treeand bear my own berrieshopefully my roots will keep me ...
Posted by on Sat, 25 Jul 2009 23:56:00 GMT |
FUCK ALL |
my feet are huge and so's my mouthsorry if a crush yer toesi really can't help myselfsandy toes and followingthe wave of whimsy where it goeseven following my fingerup your nosecause i can pick my fri...
Posted by on Thu, 11 Jun 2009 11:40:00 GMT |
make new friends |
the lady pours old water in the streetsloshing the tacoed shoes 'round my feetthe man in front of me rewinds and goes backward down the streetwhile i blurt a curse that's none too kindbut she doesn't ...
Posted by on Wed, 08 Apr 2009 22:29:00 GMT |
children's book??? (cartoons soon!!!) |
i looked down on a lakethat looked like a dropped octopusi believe in the relief of galactic spasmsstrong arms are strongbut i wish i had metal elbowsshalo p wants me to write him a song toxic nonsens...
Posted by on Sun, 22 Feb 2009 21:36:00 GMT |
THE STORY OF THE SPOON GENIE |
the glowing spoon genie needs for you to try his magic medicine. six tundry deserts he crossed just to get his just desserts; to dance on your tongue, to mamba your eye balls, to tango your testies. y...
Posted by on Mon, 24 Nov 2008 11:42:00 GMT |
cold roses |
he reaches into his candy melted pocketshe rifles through the gooey sockets feet shuffle in pulpy pilesof leaves beautifully inbetween they couldn't dream an evening more striking than thisthe roses a...
Posted by on Sun, 02 Nov 2008 00:57:00 GMT |
dont be a stranger |
the plot thickens in purgatorywith the smell of burning bridgesand the tempo quickensbetween the up and down beats and the more you try and stay away from it the more inviting the heatthe plot thicke...
Posted by on Fri, 05 Sep 2008 08:00:00 GMT |
trim and safety pins |
when fruit punch fighting matcheslight cherry bomb atomic blasts isthe time the street lights ignitestriped black and white political kitescut through window shard knifeswith names that don't mean any...
Posted by on Sun, 10 Aug 2008 21:52:00 GMT |
