Music distorted and adulterated by cheap effects screen the night. Glowbulbs line the freeway for outdated future footage. The dirt we deal for dollars stains our super spirits like spilt beer. Torrents of dick tears drown the 17 year olds; a laughable bath for diluted kids. Play/stab the corrugated facades; junk the good stuff; finger the ray being split by the pole and let others think deeply on your blank soul.
Thursday, 26 January 2012
Santa Cruz, California, Beach Street, diagonal to the arcade, right behind the beach, with only a road and lethargy separating the soles of my shoes from the sand. I wouldn't want to go shoeless on the beach because I hate carrying around my shoes--it feels so stupid absurd like picking up your dog's turds.
Monday, 9 January 2012
With arms akimbo he awaits their ethereal grace.
They touch him and he billows.
Inside his mind they labor away,
Reworking the rusty and disused dendrites.
A tyro with his new brain, he is awkward and inefficient.
The chords come slowly, and much paint is thrown away,
But, eventually, he is foisted from the garbage like a broken idol
And reassembled to perform for his friends.
Their accolades are like whispers
For he is tumescent with self-satisfaction—it is the first time, ever.
Saturday, 7 January 2012
Dead on arrival, stuggling for survival
Besieged by the giants of literature
Shackled by my own vices
Distracted by the internet
Im a pile of garbage
A hapless mass of waste
Stuffed with lifeless potential
Mind open like a sore
I poke it with my finger strokes upon this keyboard
This jagged arrangement of words is too personal
So you pass over me like a cloud
I want to fire laser beams at the sky and carve my name in the atmosphere
But instead I will commence to willfully rotting my latency.