Scouting Minerals with some pirates.

A while ago- Stopped and thought, drank some tea.
A little while ago- Watched American ******, read Fear and loathing in Las Vegas while watching the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas while on Lsd.
Some time ago- slept in, Slept with someone, listened to "Endless, Nameless" on repeat for four straight hours.
Not too long ago- HaD a DrEaM tHaT i CaN't ReMeMbEr, had an acoustic nightmare, melted the atmosphere of my brain with *****, and had a cancer attack.
A light year ago- Watched Live Leak while eating smores, more and more, more or less, she was *******, which was cool and all but I got a little scared.
A minute ago- typed the last line which isn't this line but is supposed to be, I guess.


Garrett Johnson.

Porch evening remind.

As if said with flame.
Mr. Tambourine Man and you.
On wavering beach, collapse.
For it's worth while.


Garrett Johnson.

Photo of a street in the Mountains and thanks.

Maybe last.
In anxiety... purpose.
Pending in leaves made.
From you.


Garrett Johnson.

Put them around mine.

Full of fake happiness.
Tea.
Forced poems.
& eyeshadow.
All as the cars go by.
Of the style.
And demise.
Written weary for the try.
Pretty bi.
Because of course.

Garrett Johnson.

No reason until.

Reassured and measured.
You take off your buttoned shirt.
Smothered in dead dye.
Left confined, smiling, once.
A murmur.
No place.
Left wanted.
All streaming in haunting.
Let go.
As the back of candles remember, the brain that coursed in
The drip.
The flow.
The pit.
In the stomach.
Just, still.


Garrett Johnson

Mess Silhouette.

Forgettable toast.
hallway unbearable.
**** me for me.
I'll do it.
Shock to sick.
Pin it on my chest.
That's ok.
getting some.
Sleep to burn, eyelids Scorpio.
******* dumb.
Leaf sticking to, the end of.
Noose to bandage.
Really helps a lot.
Maybe not enough.


Garrett Johnson.

Lost.
It’s pleasing.
Take it.
E.
E.
Ez.
Breeze is nice up here.
The dust must conjure.
The emotions ride.
Arrive from biscuit town.
Say hello to the scarecrow.
His ma works for a blues musician.
She is the blues musician.
His brother knows everything about Trump.
Even when he *****.
His sister loves Bruce Lee.
Or at least the aesthetic of him.
Bigfoot shot himself back in time.
To meet Jack Kerouac.
When he got there he learned that Jack was captured by the Yakuza.
He did nothing and went home.
Mr. Scarecrow was bigfoot.
A little girl told him that he was going to die alone.
That he wouldn’t mind the pain.
That everything he changed wouldn’t work.
It would all just be the same.
Don’t fall in love the little girl said to him.
What the hell does she know.
She’s 10 years young.
But i’m stuck here with Arthur Russell material.
Echoing a voice to the world.
Hoping to mean something.
Listen for a call back.
Peace within.
Call back.
Please call back.
I’ll stand of frozen bridges while they melt.
Then dive head first into the water.
Sink.
Sink.

Sink to the lowest point of my existence.

Hmm and yeah.

False complaint.
****** guitar.
Never where you ought to be.
Next to me & ice.
Melting street.
Frighting.
Temporal, weekend.
Day of the week and cry.
A languid joy.
& it's only, getting.
Better.

Garrett Johnson.

Greece in muted pink.

Flooded in Haiku and rubble.
The painstakingly, shin.
Filled in ghosts and napkins for yours.
When it rains.
Flowing blanketed surprise, the fiends.
Never.
Over and against certain other pains.
Because it rains.

Garrett Johnson.

French Caliber.

Rain.
The wind.
& that teal rug.
Thanks Ann.




Garrett Johnson.

Anyways on the walk to your house.

Twice in the hall.
Lose it.
Felt like permanent.
Scold.
Grass keeps the air cool, like matte.
Perhaps crawl.
So enthralled.
Liking it, lose it all again.
Over.
A corpse chiming with ideas.
Chiming only to finest, hideous.
Hideous.
More hideous.


Garrett Johnson.

So impossible Tuesday.

Awaiting decay.
As orange blossom.
In tidal pools.
When it's just right.
Change, reminds me.
Going creaking in the night.
Desperate woods.
In hallways.
But only.
Thank you.


Garrett Johnson.

Empty and all else.

Falseness starting with an end.
Within relapse.
Within relapse.
Such certainty.
Definition.
And catastrophe.
Return.
When the slide in Athens becomes cyan.
And tired.


Garrett Johnson.

Felt through the turquoise left in bloom.

Specialty repeat of your notebook.
Like sad lips.
Sad chairs.
Maybe... just maybe sad.
Not only blankets covering my head.
Your head.
Perhaps.
Maybe once like on the lawn in Kauai.



Garrett Johnson.

Dissolving and a scarf.

Brought about.
Cyanide.
Where it goes.
Stagger.
Bladder
It hurts.
Like some lead.
On the floor.
With a hope to maybe blink.
Scarlet finish.
Return in ultimate bliss.

Garrett Johnson.

Crackling leaves on the walk home.

French hysterics.
Off the deep end in chasm.
Manic.
Sequence fathom through the room light.
Dreadful.
Sarcastic rummaging through cheek bones as papier-meche.
Quiet.
Rubbing eyes.
Folding Sweatshirt to tunneling tunes that keep you alive long enough.


Garrett Johnson.

Tempted Significance.

Zero moments did I say wait.
As for the forsaken channel decided to be draped.
In electric blue.
Only to be draped back into clouds.
Passing foothold on lonely function.
& twisted return in waves.
Lay shy in the face.
A cryptic respite.
Embraced by the wolves in the atmos.
Of all self being.
Self too clear for comfort.
& too silent for silence.



Garrett Johnson.

Haven with eyes closed.

If it was.
Washing dirt.
***** socks.
Tea.
Missing fish.
Say it without.
Pebbles, massacre.
******.
Because I...uh.
Stringy hair.
Forgettable.
Rocking back and forth.
Back and forth.
Dramatic but it fits.

Garrett Johnson.

Let it, I know

Put it mostly, as if I care.
I make the time....Timely.
Nevermind.
Off center of void.
Alright I feel annoyed.
Hey...
Hi.
Like it's not.
Like I'm not.
Fine.

Garrett Johnson

Blueberry tears.

We saw through the eyes.
The electric highway.
The lips overtone.
The winds.
Celestial.
Neon Bohemia.
Cathartic Breath of air on neck.
The melting of the surface.
Suffice in the face of thee ocean.


Garrett Johnson.

The wayy she smiles.

Sputter out of controlling remorse, taken all of his energy.
Notably chalk.
That waits in his knee.
But then you sneeze.
Mostly realize.
That you've got it all.
And none in a hug that was in the fall.

Garrett Johnson.

Rotten Gold.

Maybe.
A new.
Maybe.
An old.
Maybe.
The mystic.
Maybe.
The twisted of scene.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.




Garrett Johnson.

Alone, with nowhere wondering

When back in Hawaii, I feel it better with you.
North of the Eggs 'n things where I puked.
The grass could be so darndest. Smiling only to attract the bugs.
Just because & only then...Could you smile.
The leaves smacking air into my lungs or was it the hybrid, that lept with such oomph.
Looking at my shoelace until It's been a while.
Cig running ruin into brain, counting looks at your hand.
& I, without a plan.
Sometimes you spoke.
Of dreams rampant, organs bearable in confusion.
I only wanted to say hello.
Standing on the stern, peering out over harbor.
Getting closer even though You knew.
Through trees, peering into your eyes & much colors that never threw...concern.
Just Closed.
& fine.
As if the the view of you At North shore anew.
Never arrived

Garrett Johnson.

Saucerful.

The candy lights won’t come back on.
My boots have been swallowed.
The table cloth chess players.
Roped into hallowing out their arms.
It’s ok the blankets don’t know any better.





Garrett Johnson.

Too late for influence.

Sour particles through silence.
Hair faced.
Lighted for the the violence.
Nevermind it.
Sighted.
And terrible.


Garrett Johnson.

Saying What Wasn't.

Can't begin to process.
Can't stand upon the shore.
Can't imagine the eyes that contract with your notes.
Or the eyes that make notice of my smile.
Staying a while.. while I figure it out.
While Sophie. The isle.
The conglomerate of strings to my ears that make them bleed.
But what doesn't have and what doesn't make them need.
Of your whisper so slightly.
And I of a minute too soon to love.

Wellness.

None at all.







Garrett Johnson

Regarding Suzi but it's cold.

Pulsatilla to help.
Distant from.
Persistent smoke pouring.
Photo of boredom.
Soho and never.
Ending because I feel like I'm gonna throw up this neon peering through the hair, the shakes.
**** it's cold.



Garrett Johnson.

Watching the walls turn for colors.

Dead under eyes.
Appliance.
Awaiting.
A stronger taste of Sulk and.
Morbidness entering.
The tiredness because why not.
Forward.
Adore.
Shaky legs for silence.

Garrett Johnson.

Confused in Estes.

Slipping low.
How it felt.
Didn't know.
You're still warm.




Garrett Johnson.

Drowning like Tuesday.

Stained cold.
Pained & blue.
& blew away in the morn.
The dawn striking Like I a seven day trip to the quiet mountains.
The quiet flowers.
The quiet fountain.
The silver trees.
& The shadow satins.
Melted in a field.
And still.
Kept silent.



Garrett Johnson.

Sylvia on repeat for hours.

Said in everything
Sludge somebody to Love.
Mix it in April
I know it's hard.


Garrett Johnson.

No directions.

Travel down this here icy river.
Sleep in the car.
Catch a cold.
Burn parallel sticks of cancer.
Back against cold bark.
Lack of confidence.
Black sweater.
She forgot to progress.
Her story was nice.
Dark pine.
It’s getting dark outside.
It’s too good inside.
Buried fire letters.
They were never sent.
I’ll get out of here soon.
Washington county.
Pyro slugs.
All caught up in tear sleeves.
I’ll help your helping hand.
No help here.
The world made cones are my saviors.
Your neon wounds have been saved.
Helping paper cup.
Your friendly neighborhood razor cuts.
Hands grasping forest side.
I’ll forever.
Be by your side.


Garrett Johnson.

Feelings at the theater.

Take your life.
Take the soap.
Take the cigarettes.
Take regrets.
Take emotions.
Take the lotion.
Take the gun.
Take the pines.
Take the water.
Burn.



Garrett Johnson.

Above in Maroon.

Pond.
Suffer numb.
Hurry.
Sick of.
Sicko.
Sewing grass into clothes.
Glitter for the sleep.
Eyeshadow and weep.
From Let her dance to Wanna be sedated.


Garrett Johnson.

John David Washington Ave.

Suspended.
It tastes like violet.
Cloudy.
Renaissance and headed towards.
The Maxine.
Mountain only spitting globes.
Of parted jacket.
Faulty.
Leaving electric glass behind.
Though it's eyes.
No weaving of inner fuchsia.
Collected, only slept in yesterday's clothes.

Garrett Johnson.

We forgot to laugh.
The lonesome cars.
The lonesome people.
The poor souls.
The gutter trash.
The lonesome past.
Lonesome we.
Lonesome us.
Lonesome you.
Lonesome me.
Too lonesome.
So we ask.
Where are my manners.
Meet with hands in the mud.
Soil for the soul.
Eyes in a fade.
SIdewalk.
Old chevy with a silver bumper.
A *** in the alley.
Little soul.
All soul.
No soul.
All before it’s forgotten.
Allways of the way we were brought in.
Change.
Let the snow melt.
Drink it.
Eat the grass.
Still lonesome.
Lonesome but wholesome hospitality.
You’re dead if in a hospital.
The people gather around.
Just to watch..
Watch it all burn down.
They killed Jim by the creek.
They don’t care.
Sad Boys.
Sad girls.
Sad beds
Sad world.
Needles.
Scars.
Bits.
& parts.
Separate.
One with all.
All in one.
Patterns.
Killed.
No grave.
Only Michael T. Berland

Alacrity skies.

Sailing slow on tan sands.
Knowing this is nowhere.
But everywhere next to me.
To keep me company.
Parade fires in a phantom night.
Crowned love beating all.
Only act existing.
Guitars.
Drums wailing proudly.
Mountains greeting the stars.
With shelter under swaying pines.
Lasting only for the night.
Only for the night.



Garrett Johnson.

Turn to the Water.
Leaping through the veins of our humanity.
As we fly with fear to the city.
Wallowing in the mud, singing.
******* in the allies.
No privacy here.
Alone in shin high body of infested Fluids.
Above, the others party in the **** night.
Robust and jubilant.
The concrete solidification of our lives.
Living in eternal colors.
Youth crying, laughing.
Crawling over their other half.
Love in mutiny.
Forgotten.
In the summer rain.
Dancing like infants.
Tribal.
The shaman seeks the grass.
He is the portal.
The forgotten mortal.
Of the jade crystals.
Inside he lives in a current.
With his missing part.
Her.
Himself.
The perfect primeval distortion.

Al Petroleum.

Fazing in n out.
The flicker.
The whisper.
She's here.
You took too much man.
You took too much.
Who said that.


Garrett Johnson.

Poseidon.

Yesterday- Blow out, kicked around, drink of water.
Day before yesterday- Hash browns, peyote, get your own tots monday.
Today- Ambien, gold fish, ******* off of Elvis Presley plate dish, it was jeweled.
Tomorrow- A Cobain chill out, hang out, take a walk, Smoke Kerouac plasma.
Day after tomorrow- Live a little, Make love in a field, because why not.
The day after that day that was tomorrow- a smoke, Chai tea, mellow out, Then lots of lsd but not too much.
Forever- write, write about this, write about that, and write some more.
Repeat.
Don’t repeat.
Yeah sure...go ahead and repeat.






Garrett JOhnson.

Leviathan's storm.

It has come.
The apocalyptic overload.
Sworn down from the realms above.
Like the parting of the red sea backwards.
Comment allez-vous I ask.


Garrett Johnson.

Nextdoor synapse at 3pm.

A creak.
A drop.
Horn yet ominous.
Frank Blasted.
Pine, a few tabs.
A few screams.
Possible.


Garrett Johnson.

Waiting for you.

Dismal marigold.
Hovering at most.
Fear for vehemence.
Sepia perfume.
Palladium rug.
All I wanted was it back.
Salty mush.
Roomy in Autumn auburn.
Hepburn of copper empires.



Garrett Johnson.

The roof of Alcatraz.

Embodying the psychedelic lust of youth.
We stealthed our way into the ancient cinder block.
Old and moldy.
Cold.
We made our way to the top.
A cold breeze off the bay sea.
Pushing along her hair.
We sat in that cold night air.
Just watching.



Garrett Johnson.

Marion Gaslight

kicked in with malfunction hair.
Spliced.
Sociopathic residue drip to the commuter of the world.
Spliced.
How do you love your warmth.
Plunder.
All and well now.
We'll just wait it out in our arms.



Garrett jOhNsOn

A Kerouac Afternoon.

Penniless on a traded lie for a life.
Finally found in a hazel eye.
Walking around in the finest sky of nowhere.
An afternoon of series after series.
After serious reasons of grief.
Get a grip, man.
Out and displaced.
Creek.
Lying in mud.
More comfort when the blood settles at the bottom.
Old and torn.
Beat up some wolves.
Crawled while crying to my hole in the river.
One with the fishes.
And other earthly fuel.



Garrett Johnson.

Lovely Ruins.

Tossed through ash.
Cold.
Bruised.
Sail to me for conversation.
Not A lover to one.
Not one for another.
Covered by lips.
The old teachings.
Learned to be alone.
Take up enchantments of touch.
Tremolos in the fingers.
Grip on nothing.
All to be nothing but the trees in Fall.



Garrett Johnson.

Clouds on the bedroom floor.

It isn't anything.
Maybe it's everything.
Seeing it all.
The waves.
Midnight.
While you're still here.
Feel like ****.
Pictographs.
Written cloth.
Sidewalk in Perth.
Headphones.
for every reason.


Garrett Johnson.

Frankie Cosmos at 1am.

Maybe more like the old place.
Wouldn't have any.
Make of it.
Staying weary.
Within.
Running out.
Of the kitchen in your skin.
Till you faint.
Talk it more.
Said in utter incomplete.
But stay awake.

Garrett Johnson.