I'll come following you.

The scene obscured by High flyers.
the trains.
the sculking.
the home recordings.
the film.
So roomy.
I can taste the perfume.
leaving in shadow.
left rough.
& in silk.
Acting like we never met.
I still 5 to go.
paid for exclusively.
In drachmae.
& Wheat.
But dance &.
Groove.
So weary.
Like the untested reach.
Of time.
& The never resting beach.




Garrett Johnson.

Paper rats in the walls.

& Like the life previous.
I sense them once more.
Clawing at the inside of my brain.
Turning.
Everything.
But the floor.
They wine in cancerous heat upon my door.
& Leave my wall into a galaxy of a corpse.



Garrett Johnson.

For Sara.

You've lost all you've caught.
& what you've got is not your senses.
Not your lights.
Not your couch.
Not your fences.
Written on your face.
Says all is nothing.
& tasteless.
What's it to grace.
& hope.
When your atoms greet the pavement.
From a thousand feet up.




Garrett Johnson.

Once again

I fell into those eyes,
Once again.




Garrett Johnson.

Still around somehow.

You're down when they walk by.
Skulking like crimson.
On your rug.
Treacherous.
So vulnerable.
What a position.
Crying for death.
Seeing what could be seen.
The scene so meloncholy.
But we laughed.
Spitting Pneumonia in noire.
Leaving all things heavy.
N blowin in the wind.


Garrett Johnson.

Laurel Canyon blues.

Soft spoken.
As I listen to the chorus In her eyes.
She plays in the prison of Rhythm & rhyme.
& I who has lost the night to time.
Watching the form of smile in a light.
Matte.
Sat reading the arrangements.
Presented on the face.
As she sang Tell me why.
A Young song for a young soul.



Garrett Johnson.

When your gravity fails.

Lost on the texture gun.
The hopper shot Alex again.
Her hair die was acidic.
An I thought I was lost in the rug tree.
My shoes have no use anymore.
Cause I'm gonna get me a new Garrett Johnson and I'm gonna use him.
                                     See you next xmas
                                     Cliff Booth.




Garrett Johnson