clarification through all size-able tangible and real in dream like sense I can believe mass miscommunication halted in my belief for logical decree, to ask whats inside of me I think pause and dislodge to a fine dime of self stricken guilt reckoning expansive all human novelty i cry shudder and lay awake all night waiting for fingers to grow back in human experiment rotting in symbolism and art passion subjective objective supernatural focus concentration logical patient groove contemplation speak slow suspend disbelief balance electric moon rocks roots rock river pulse beat of music the  rhythm beating of remedy

There's the morning.
eggs coffee and rising sun
and there's the night,
the void filling
storm.
here i am on the verge
of it all,
stable and un-
menaced in an
open market, the blanket
of action, delirious
in attempts and not
half bad-
the steadiness of rocks,
the cadence
of ridges
through air

outer banks #1


down to the outer banks
where the water
and the dunes
reflect the wild east coast

we had to drive
to where its not commercialized
where the sand is actually
really occupied

ya gotta a dig a hole burn some coal
just to even eat a fish
grab a spear for a crab where the
shallow waters clear

ya gotta go, you gotta roll where
the old wind blow
ya gotta go, you gotta roll where
the old wind blow

watch your back girl
butter flies flyin outta your skirt
fly off the waves like dirt

were hidden out in the sand dune land
protected from patrol
by mountain sand

while the elders passed a joint
laughin, not carin and
so i soak it in
soak soak soak it in

cause you gotta roll, you gotta go
where the old wind blow

crabbin and a surfin
unknown land
im just campin out
and followin my dad

and camper dave
he's my other dad
we got the seafood
the surfers wish they had

so you gotta roll, you gotta go with the flow
where the ocean is remote
dont need no boat

its the best **** feeling
id ever had

cause ran around
the old wind blow


u gotta go where the old wind blow
so you gotta roll, you gotta go where
the old wind blow


you gotta gooo oh
where the old wind blow

one moment, one fluke
trying to breathe in
trying not to breathe,
speed momentum
with a crew, all alone,
faded now, the loop
all day driving
all day braking, and shoes
are what i think,
while the sky falls
to questions, to the lessons
learned, instant lights,
instant disaster,
lights and ruin,
instant imprisoned
mind, the battle
with the head.

the Jack Daniel man
Cowboy Hat Jackie Chan
in concrete land,
the funk man.

jungle of parrots
on the street with the
emotions mixed and yeeha
theres the bus and giddy up goes
the man, smokin crack
on the corner and he salutes.

cowboy floatin down the
aisle stride, picks his side
like a glide. like a guitar
like the sun. hittin those
melodies and the window
smacks the glare.

static transience
breeds paranoia
and guilt
standing there witness
to your  own
subconscious,
like a sneaking
reporter
with a tape
recorder, water gate
style
tapping for
your soul’s
ubiquitous
campaign
party
launched
and revealed
to transparent
realms

I roll through these scenes
with impulsive magnificence.
Sometimes its rolling,
sometimes I flip.
Sometimes I find myself
extenuating the struggle
horseback
through catapulted
decades of
fur-
trapped
ozark
witchcraft
dirt

the cave makes a show
of all its rocks
that sat in the water
forever with all the rich
minerals of the earth
where all the colors are
down there in the dark
with no sun to burn
out the identity
with any air of
dignity,
lost in the domeless
sky of regret.