A robust, full bodied cup of coffee
The resounding zeros and dated euphemisms
The criminal and large and I sitting
He has something to say I tell him to spit it out
He says he knows I'm holding out on him and tells me to cough it up

I adhere to his demand and pull out my rucksack and empty it out on the shellacked table

Cream of tartar
Cumin
Cloves
Bay leaves    
Clovers
Ginger
Mustard seeds
Anise
A plethora of extracts and Madagascar vanilla bean

I give in because this guy has a murderous track record nine miles long
While I have a lifelong loosing streak
I dare not try and petition him with defiant excuses and off the hook tones

He needed these things to prepare a meal for his dying father
He suffers from hangnails and trend followers
As his son follows a dark path that is a far cry from a path that will lead to a career

The criminal gathers the vials of herbs and spices with tears in his eyes and goes on his way
I sit and finish my coffee unfazed and understanding

To be continued...

Open your eye, rest and rise
Above, within the rondure
You are alive
Breathe in
Breathe out
Put your ear to the ground
It's alive
Hear them
The whispers of the world
They are moving
The message
The truth
The conscientious view
Zeros and ones
It is you
And you are it
As am I
Us are we
Stray from regret
Sidestep worry
Revel in today in all its brilliance
Create with passion
Right intention
Watch it grow and see it spread
Do we exist?
Holographic images
Eleven dimensions
Relative and subjective
       -Tommy Johnson

The miscreant carried a bushel of poisoned apples
And gave the out to anyone who thought themselves a good judge of character
He exasperates the attentive ones who suffer from a hand to mouth problem
He discoursed immensely on the subject of turmeric and thickened plots  

The deathbed confessor's ghost implored the miscreant to cease his doings
And focus on a productive form and function
Preposterous as it sounds, this paranormal plea was second to none
For as soon as the spirit appeared the miscreant was filled with fear and immediately knocked off all his wayward ways

The miscreant became the lapdog for an elderly man who dispensed to him far out wisdom  
Using his silver tongue
He told him of his days as an escaped chain gang convict
Running across the country
Pilfering pies from unsuspecting windowsills
"It was wrong!" the old man said while hitting the miscreant with a newspaper for 1911
"Now, fetch me some lunch"
"Bring me one of those apples, and one for yourself"

Get on the ball
Rustle up some food
Celery seed
Just make it up on the spot
Circle "none of the above"
Avoid all the **** blocks
The **** swats
And anyone who can read and write in reverse
Visit the maddened mistress
She's at the farm in the barn
She's on birth control so it's okay
She wants the same thing you do
Instant gratification
She has a surplus of lust and seduction

Tell me would you rather be a star or an icon?
No hard feelings let's let bygones be bygones
Because by the time that I'm done it'll all be gone
And that time has come now bang the gong

Poetry takes over me its in my blood
Millions of ideas overflow and flood
I'm the guy who can't explain the things that he does
Before I can finish one the next one's already begun
Call me Bush cause I make preemptive strikes
Late at night, can't sleep I got night terrors
I'm a writer, human error
Make mistakes, but never fake
Verbal assaults, symbolic somersaults
You never spot it, I got it, Haley's Comet  
Get it? got it? Good
What is this amateur hour?
Over these insects I tower
And I leave 'em with a sour taste in their mouths
Too many syllables to count, the can't figure out how
This came to light how this came to be
How someone can be so lyrically and poetically skilled
I'm strong willed to make a killing
To put my name in the top billing
That's T-O-M-M-Y J-O-H-N-S-O-N
Don't wear it out or make me spell it again
The rhythm and rhyme is mine
To take and break, mutilate and manipulate
Into one of my mutated manifestations of soul
So if we go blow for blow
Just roll with the punches
Because I'm no where near done yet
Just one more cycle of sun rise and sun set

Would you rather be a has-been or a never-was?
Authentic booing or half hearted bogus applause?  
Juggling juxtaposition and pulverizing paradox
Opening eyes and dropping jaws

I write for the eccentric and excluded
The ones who know life doesn't have instruction included
The agitators, aggravators
Trouble making perpetrators
The ones high in the sky yet still down to earth, the least common denominators
The imaginative innovation of evolved revolutionaries
And the intuitive message they all carry
I'm inspired by the ones who came before me
Ginsberg, Morrison, Dylan and Cassady
Shakespeare, Fitzgerald and Lennon all influence me
To write and have my name along with theirs on someone's shelf
That's why I'm here everyday writing away to make a name for myself
I'm after the Holy Grail
Na, not a Pulitzer or Nobel
But moment someone tells you, "Hey man I love your stuff"
That right there is enough for me
To know people would take the time to read what I put out
Then without a doubt
I'd know I took the right route
And they all love what I write about
Life, death and everything in between
Sick subhumans and saddened circus clowns
We're all here to see the tides change and the tables turn
There is no turning back now
Sorry if it's too loud
All you can do is kneel and bow
Just wait for it all to change
Keep your confidence up but your ego down
Life is round , the earth is round
It isn't flat and new land's been found
I claim it in my name
And in the name of the game
The game that you we're never even a player in
So don't make a sound, just watch me win

Would you rather be an unknown or a memory?
To live a life of fame or infamy?
To die heroic or live villainy
The subject of a biographic documentary
Remembered for centuries upon centuries

You're good but I'm the greatest
Your're over rated but I'm the highness anticipated awaited
You're on the wait-list, I'm on the A-list
I'm on the tip of everyone's tongue on a daily basis
You keep yourself on repeat on the lamest playlist
So press pause and listen to my words so heinous
Your head is so vacant you haven't got the faintest idea what I'm saying
You're tasteless and I don't care if I'm hated
You play it safe and I like to make bold statements and live dangerous
And I can use my abilities to either trash you or slash you
But I just wanna aid a few of our brothers and sisters
To enlightenment so they can see the bigger picture
And expel all the ******* behind-the-back whispers
Been walking on eggshells and tip toeing around broken glass so long I got blisters
**** the Benedict Arnold's, Judases and *** kissers
Kiss them all good bye
As we blow the whole bunch of 'em sky high
Oh my is that a threat?
Na but you bet it's a ******* promise
Pay homage to Dylan Thomas
And have a drink to him
Until the whole room spins
And we witness the after affects of 9/11
I still don't understand how we got to Iraq if t was Afghanistan
Eh, whatever nevermind I don't want to get into that rant again
But I will give you some food for thought
That you ought to be eating
Why is it people are meeting life with such opposition
It's because we are taught to combat it with these fix positions
Well I've got new and improved fool proof fire power new way
And I'm about to press ignition
I'm refurbished, recondition out of remission
Learn don't live in the past
No looking back live in the now
Don't worry about tomorrow it'll all work out
The Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman case
Isn't about gun laws or even race
It's about the morals and values no one cares to save
The sooner we all realize that the sooner we can have better days

Oh wait I feel spurt of verbal diarrhea about to take place
This is coming from me to you, the fact of the matter is you're through
I'm impervious, immune and merciless
Murderous, your nervousness, you're subservient and worthless
I'm losing my patience with you, I'll try to make this painless
You're going outta here nameless as the whole crowd goes zero gravity weightless
Because I'm a pile driving, stylizing craftsmen of words
And you missed your turn, get burned never return
I write so ridiculous
You write conspicuous
I'm am limitless
They think I'm frivolous and have a bad attitude
They just envious of my monumental aptitude
Its not writing it's typing
Clickty clack clack just like Kerouac
I won't take it back that's just the way I attack literature
I have a big vocabulary, I like onomatopoeia not a big fan of nomenclature  
I put myself in every poem
In every verse or stanza
In every line and word
From storytelling to dispelling propaganda
As for you I don't know
I guess ****** was all she wrote
I got my back tot he ropes
I take e'm and make a noose
It was duck duck goose now you lose
You lost out to a lower class *** head
A brain dead writers who straight outta special ed.
But look how much of my work has been read
No more need be said
I'm ahead of my time and miles a head of you
I got time to stop for a drink
And a trip to the edge of reason to the brink
Then come back again and I'll still be ahead and on top
What you go?t Nothing
Stop bluffing
I'm huffing pure creativity
I listen to the voices inside of me
Telling me to end this quick
And I agree it's time to cut this session short
I think that's the long and short of it
I'm boss and you're a lost cause
You may be the Lion of Zion
Or even Titan of the Horizon
But when we're both gone
You'll be some guy who wrote
And I'll be an Icon

It's 11:11 make a wish
Look out the spotty window
See all the frowns
And boring towns
See how powerful the words we use are
They can cut deep
Deeper than the most violent assault
Buildings and obelisks of befuddlement
Pressed for time
Lemon scented tiles
Scrubbed
No mold
Personal preference
Common courtesy
And common sense    
Scarce but invaluable
A face only a mother could love
And a father can lie to
Coulda
Woulda
Shoulda
Didn't
Searching for carrion
Give way
To the wayside
ECNALUBMA
In the rear view
The worms eat us
The early birds catch the worms
The cat nabs the worm
After being resurrected by satisfaction
And the night owl writes the tell-all
Put the ear to glass
Put the glass to the door
And listen closely
To sound of knuckles cracking
And the chattering of coffee shop patrons
Indian givers going back on their word
Fingerless gloves
Prim and proper
Promptly pummeling
Tunneling to tomorrow
Well done
Slim to none
Fat chance
The local native's tongue
Sold fresh and farm raised
On any given day
You can find demi-gods
Playing a a pick up game
Matchbook
Matchbox
Mismatch socks
Pick up sticks and stretchmarks
Just stay the night
So we can wish this all away together
It's 11:12 open your eyes

The cable car is inert
A mixed bag
The second coming of sweet talk
The bathroom attendant is the culprit
Who is trying to get his point across
And gain some sensibility

He was in a cold sweat during a heatwave
She had hot flashes during a cold snap
Fever blisters, heat blisters
Frost bite and heat stroke
Take a cold shower together
Then put on your street clothes
Feast your eyes
Set your sights
Impeccably punctual

The rag tag constituents
*** rush the 'ol drawing board for bragging rights
A jail break in the making
Drinking rat tails at last call
Scarfing down pickled pigs feet
It'***** or miss
It's a leap year

Locking horns with one another
Ornery
Putting forth an esteemed ultimatum
Swing and a miss
Hock your watch
And mind the store
Don't ask don't tell
It's a work in progress

    -Tommy Johnson

It's sad to say this
We live under umbrella terms
On some kind of spectrum
Abiding by Murphy's law
Being read our Miranda rights
Numbers on a scatter plot
In other words it's an open invitation
For one trick ponies
To sideswipe us
Knock us for a loop
Knocking us down a few pegs
Making us a laughing stock
Sieg heil the zeitgeist
Study the hermit's manifesto
It speaks of finicky beggars
And groveling choosers
Honor slayings
Oscar-worthy faked *******
First rate blood baths
Second rate novelty acts
Bending over backwards
And knee **** reactions
Cooking up something abominable
Having it hit the fan
To ensnare and entrap all who are near
Hot off the knock-off stenograph
Tack on another ten thousand years
In other news...
       -Tommy Johnson

A term of endearment
A pure bread
Pedigree
Imbecile

The firing squad on parade on the thoroughfare
The death squads are on patrol for run on sentences and chemical runoff
The peer mediators tell us all to calm down
The rapscallions try to push us into their get-rich-quick schemes
And the shut-ins settle down with their mail ordered brides

The wallflowers tell everyone to go to hell with great brio
I guess I'll see them there
It won't be much of an endeavor
It'll be like a dog finding its way home

The blood brothers perturb everyone else
Telling them their open blood pact is BYOB
Then starting a be-in singing Come all ye faithful and Kumbaya
It all comes full circle, monkey see monkey do

A sob story
About empty toilet paper rolls
And toilet seats being left up

Living nine lives
In a dog eat dog world
Fighting hunger tooth to nail

You look ravishing
I am famished and undeserving

Turning your home into a ***** house
Your conscience has signed off
It bailed

Cool kids and wild cards
Getting off Scott free

Life ends
When the parents come home

I'd give you a hand
If it didn't cost me an arm and a leg
You'll be in my thoughts
And my heart goes out to you

I laid my eyes
On your tapping toes
And buckling knees
You have no back bone

I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach
Even though you split my sides
I could read your lips
And I saw you were lying through your teeth

You were tongue tied
Your wrists were slit
Hair frizzed
Voice raspy and dishonest

The Kleptomaniac sat in his stolen smoking jacket
Disregarding all the trifling troubles of the world
And plotting his next lofty move

The Urchin rolled down his window
And screamed his head off about Manifest Destiny
In the Sahara

The two met at the airport
A rift in fate
They were both subjected to a pat down search
The Urchin attempted to interject
The Kleptomaniac saw him as an irritant who should just keep his mouth shut, yet respected his bold brashness

The Urchin saw the Kleptomaniac as a person on the right track
Someone of substance

He wanted to simulate
Emulate
Imitate
Everything he was

They were both the biggest all star losers at their all time low winning at having the two longest losing streaks ever  
Inglorious

They traded numbers
But never spoke again
Even though they knew the phone worked both ways

A hastened silence
Implicit danger
Bed bug bites

Being submerged speechlessly
In the bay by the dying chrysanthemums

Stocked shelves
To pay for all the pings and dings in the car
Evicted
Couldn't make the rent in time

Shoveled sod and soot
**** and mud
Wearing stained tank tops and horn rimmed glasses  
****** in the gut
And filled the shot glass to the brim
But always got home at a respectable hour

Fastened to the table
Hurry up and wait!

"People are expendable"
"**** the low-lives living the high-life"

       -Tommy Johnson

Copyrights and patents
"What up reality?"
"Whatch you got for me today?"
The Marksman ****** on his cigarillo
His voice was distinct
A whirring voice
Vocable word choices
A man of great aptitude
Never blinked, never winced
With acute paranoia
And a metallic nucleus
Daft
He heard voices
Egging him on
Baiting him
Taking ****
Nuisances
"How's the ulcer oh glorious gunman?"
They said
"Hurts doesn't it?"
"Ready to give out?"
"Put that plastic bag on your head and end it"
The Marksman pivoted and headed toward the kitchen
And made a stew of whatever he could find under the sink
And ate it
"Hail to the chief and send my complements to the chef!"
He put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger
He was buried and had the most dignifying funeral I ever had the privilege of attending

      -Tommy Johnson

Encroaching satellites
High voltage saturation and shade
And an obtuse synopsis of cognitive psychology

Condensing your threshold
Searching for hand outs
Ripping the railings out of the walls
In the stairwells in the doctor's office on the way to your colonoscopy  

Laying on the futon with and your therapist writing down everything you say
"Go on"
"Mhm"
"I see"
"How does that make you feel?"

Skid-marked underwear
Delving, dumpster diving for food
In the lonesome twilight
In the rippling rainstorm

People shelling out gripes
Squinting, doing a double take at you
Followed by a wavering tumult
They're gonna have you capped
That is, unless you purchase this love seat

       -Tommy Johnson

The baptist who also did circumcisions
Was filled with shame after being defiled
By someone he thought he new
Bashing his head against the stone walls

Crying
Sobbing
Laughing
Screaming
Convulsing
Dying
Dying
Dying

He came to see spirits coming
Running to whisk him away
To another plane
Of existence
They were transparent
Lustful ghosts with feet of flames

"Dance, dance, dance"
They yelled at him
"Dance on the graves of your mother
Dance on the grave of your father
Of your sister
Then on yours"

"How does it feel?
You like it?
Hows it taste?"

He snaped out of it and came at the spirits with a blessed gun
Filled with six sliver bullets that were dipped in holy water
"I know that death is not the end
This is not my end"
He said
"I know all the words and they speak for themselves, these are them"
PLOW
PLOW
PLOW

It's everywhere
But it's nowhere
On the wild side
On the other side
How does it look?
What's the name of the book?
What's it called?
The title of the book is "*******"

Ease it back
Just a bit
In the afternoon
By the mouth of the river
There used to be a tree of many colors
I rubbed my palms and fingers up and down its bark
And looked up to see
Within its branches
There was a fact

The fact that nothing lasts
A fact that things come and go
A fact things die and grow
You and everyone you've come to know

So there I was with the baptist
At the tree by the river
With the spirits coming from I don't know
We ran into the river
And cleansed ourselves of sin
All we did
And all we once were
Was wiped clean

The baptist fired his gun at his very own head
PLOW
His brains floated in the water
I cupped the salt water and blood
And drank it

I began to see doves flying over me in odd flight patterns
And the thought of fly came to me
To go
To go
To go


The cool water running down my throat
I laid back under the tree
The spirits gone
The gun in my hand
Nothing last for ever

I began to scream
"The opportunity!"
"The opportunity!"
"I've been cleaned!"
PLOW

No one ever found our bodies
No one ever came to the mouth of the river to see the tree

But somewhere
Someone has the gun with one bullet left
For either the spirits that chase them
Or themselves
I hope they know

Everyone sacrificed and worshiped
The multi-purpose portable CPU they purchased
They signed away their lives in cursive
For the cyber sermon's service
And the verses remained wordless
In their distracted eyes they were worthless
And they were shut out into the blackness

I asked, "Why would you let it die?"
I only received uninterested replies
And I saw the truths of the world be denied
By pixelated advertisements and the trendy enterprise
And the masters of war formulate their alibis
While our breaths were taken by the polluted skies
As they became the empyrean of blackness

In the darkness I could hear
A sound so loud and clear
It said, "See no evil here"
"Speak no evil my people dear"
"Hear no evil, the light is near"
But the people only jeered
Then the sound was covered in blackness

In my nightmares there it is
The dark, dismal bleakness
The poems and songs where they should have listened
The times and places that they didn't
The insightful message goes unnoticed
I go weeks sleepless to avoid the terror that it's all hopeless
As my mind fades into blackness

Good bye light, I know you well
And I guess only time can tell
When you will come back and break the spell
Of callus, uncaring sleeper cells
I'll be here with my thoughts until
You return and I can ring the bells
And expel this time of blackness

What have I done?
I've unleashed Quincy Valero into The Big Bad City, upon Greenwich Village for the first time
The 177 express, round trip
To Port Authority
To the A train to Canal

We missed our stop
Had to walk from Soho to Washington Square Park
But along the way we saw artists and galleries
Head shops and street performers
Hobos and junkies

"We made it"
"We in this *****!"
Quincy said as we walked through the arches

We saw a multitude of creatures
An artist drawing floral murals with chalk
Meditating Buddhists
A cello player playing for a meal
A drummer drumming for money to get back home
A jazz band
A clarinet player
Writers scribbling down whatever came to mind

We saw beautiful women everywhere
"Look, my ten, your two"
Quincy said nodding to a **** brunette wearing a sundress walking by

We got coffee at The Third Rail coffee shop
We met lovey dovey couples and a girl poet sipping espresso

Treading down Bleaker to Sullivan to Macdougal to Huston
*** shops, leather and studs, ****** and flavored lubes
"This **** reminds me of Saw"
Quincy said with a laugh
"Too much for your threshold aye?"
I said nudging him

We passed a guy selling vinyl on the street
"How much for the Charlie Parker record?" I asked
He took the record out and inspected it
"Five bucks" he said
"How long you gonna be here, like till what time?" I asked
"Oh I don't live by time or numbers" he answered
"Time ain't your mast huh?" I laughed
"Nope, you cant spell T-I-M-E without M-E" he said
Quincy and I looked at eachother with a grin
"I'll be back, if I'm not here before you leave good luck in your ventures" I said as we walked away
"Thanks brother enjoy the day" he said smiling and waving

We ate to Papaya Hot dogs
Best in the city
Then to the pool hall

Now folks, it is common knowledge where I'm from the Quincy Valero is the local pool shark
He can break and sink three *****
He can jump over your ball and get his in
He can shoot behind his back with one hand

Playing with him is a guaranteed loss
But I never cared, I just like playing
We talked and laughed about all the stupid nonsense back at home
And planned our next move

We went to The Blue Note, the best jazz club in the city
The Dizzy Gillespie All Star Band was playing that night
But it was too expensive for both of us so we went on to St. Mark's place

More head shops
More *** shops
And book stores, clothing stores
Punk things in Search and Destroy, record stores
All that good stuff

It was getting late
Back to Bleaker to start drinking
First stop, a little pub
The bartender was a gorgeous blonde, sweet as could be
We ordered two beers
She seemed to be having trouble with the tap
"Sorry guys it's a little foamy, next rounds on me"
We were amazed by that because back home all the bartenders couldn't care less if we got a whole mug of foam
We clinked glasses and took that first cool icy sip
So nice on such a hot day

"Ya know dude, this is it this is perfect" Quincy said
"What you mean?" I asked
"Well this is a great time, I'm on vacation right now and were here exploring and relaxing and enjoying the moment, this moment" he said with his beer hovering over his mouth

Quincy always talked about "This"
This moment
This time
This feeling
This thing

"This" is that time when you're in the moment
That moment of complete and total encumbrance
When you're wrapped up in what you'r doing because you love it and you're happy
The moment you live for
The moment you want to last forever
This moment
This right here
Not then, not before or after
But right now, this
We lived our lives trying to to make this happen every second of everyday
Living it up

Quincy took me to Artichoke Pizza
And my God, it was immaculate
A nine in wide, nine inch long and half inch thick slice of heaven
It was a mixture of crunchy, gooey, savory goodness
I highly recommend it

Then back to the bars
Wicked *****'s
Triona's
Off The Wagon
The Bitter End
GMT
The Red Lion
Cafe Wha?
1849

Beer
Wine
***
Whiskey
Scotch on the rocks
Bourbon

Smoking electronic cigarettes down cobble stone roads
Passing hipsters, college students and tweakers
Locals and tourists
"Out of my way you tourist *******" I yelled frantically pushing my way passed them with Quincy trudging behind

You can always spot a tourist because they got their cameras, their ***** packs and their head looking up saying "ooo look at the building and that one!" taking snap shots in awe

We walked to The V-club
As we walked up to the entrance a little old lady in a wheel chair called out to us, "Are you two brothers?"
We laughed and said "no, were best friends and next door neighbors"
"Oh, well you too look very similar, very young" she said
"Yeah we're both twenty one" Quincy said
"You live around here?" I asked
"Right over there" she said pointing to the building across the street
She told us about how the building was falling apart and how all the law students got booted out leaving the little old lady and one other person living in the nine floor heap
"Back in the day there were river rats in their the sized of cats, but now we only have mice" she said
"I'm being moved though, whenever the land lords and the officials decided where" she added
She had some sort old senior citizen perk that allowed her to be taken care of
She then started to spit some of her poetry from thirty years ago, perfectly from memory
It was full of truth, insight and hope
We were floored by this wheelchair bound geriatric
She was a a retired barmaid, a poet, and an ex-lounge singer
Her name was Tracy Warren

The three of us walked into the V-club
I ordered a glass of Pinot Noir
And Quincy got a draft Brooklyn Lager
While pulling out a stool a spilled my wine all over the wooden table
"****" I said as everyone in the bar watched me put my face in my palms
I got paper towels and cleaned up my mess while the bartender leaned over to Quincy and said "If you don't tip me that will be your last drink ever in here"
"Okay" Quincy said as he walked over to me laughing at my expense
"If it was Burgundy I'd be in tears" I said with a half serious frown

I went to the bartender and apologized and asked sheepishly if I could possibly get a refill

"You spilled your wine?" he asked with sarcasm
"Yeah" I said
"And you want me to give you another?" he asked
"Well, I mean I don't know if that's okay or not that's why I'm asking" I said
"We don't, it isn't okay, you have to buy another one" he said with the most insulting tone I've ever heard
"Okay" I said with disdain

"**** this guy" Quincy and I both said
I left the remaining wine dripping off the table
Quincy ****** all over the bathroom
He finished his beer and we left without tipping that bearded-high and mighty- *******
We said goodbye to Tracy and she told us to enjoy every moment and to get home safely

We went to one more bar, had one more drink and headed home
But on the way to the train we got stopped by a ***
"Hey you give me money I know you got it" he yelled at Quincy
"Na man, hes broke trust me" I said to end the oncoming confrontation
"No yous lying i know it" he said
"Na, see those shoes? I got him those shoes, fifty five bucks" I told him
"Stop putting me on" he yelled
Then some white knight hipster wearing thick rimmed glasses and a green flannel stepped in and said "What's going on here? You picking on my friend?" While putting his arm around the *** mocking him and making trouble for us
"This ******* won't give me any money for my troubles" he told the hipster
"Come on man, give 'em something" he said to Quincy
"Dude, he has no money he spent all he had today" I said to the hipster and the ***
"He's a trust fund kid, he gets it from mommy and daddy" I said winking to Quincy
"Trust fund kid?!" the hipster said
"Trust fund kid!" said the ***
"TRUST FUND KID, TRUST FUND KID" screamed the hipster, the *** and myself laughing at Quincy making a scene
Then me and Quincy just walked away throwing our heads back howling at the full moon, drunk and exhausted heading for the subway  

The subway to Port Authority
Our legs, our feet and our ***** were killing us
We just wanted to sit

We could not for the life of us find our gate
We got misdirections from officers, other public transportation patrons
Thank God for this one janitor for pointing us in the right direction out of our wild goose chase
And ***** the guy who I asked "Hey man do you know where I can find the gate for the 177 express?"
And all I got was a blank indifferent stare
"WELL **** ME RIGHT?!" I yelled in his face

Finally we got on the line for our bus
We saw some weaselly looking guy cutting the line until he got booted to the back of the line
As he passed us we both looked at his and said "Weet, get meerkatted scumbag"
He had to wait for the next bus, whenever that was

The bus ride home felt like an eternity
But we made it
We had to walk down the unpaved dirt road to our street

We did it
We took on The Village
Sailed through the bars
Walked the streets
Met cool, hip people
Made memories
And now we have stories to tell

There are thank yous to be given
To the people who have bestowed to me a voice
A chance
An opportunity to get my work out there to the public's ear

The people who give that to everyone wanting to display and demonstration raw self-expression with passion
The people who they themselves are artists as well
Writers, musicians, brilliant and enlivened

They bequeath to us platforms, podiums
Spotlight center stage soapboxes

Microphones waiting to have words of insight cascade into them
And amps bracing themselves to have those words erupt out of them
Onto an expecting and interested crowd

The smell of coffee
The smell of cigarettes
The taste of Burgundy
On my nervous breath

On the air
On the mic
I'm there
And I thank you all

For the chances you grant all of us
We who want to show the world what we can do and who we are
There needs to be more people like you, caring and ardent

With the utmost sincerity I give you my deepest gratitude

Here's to you

A boxer with an undercut goes for an uppercut against his opponent
Who doesn't know the correct pronunciation of the word "sterile"  
Don't you get it?
Cut the cable
And stay inviolate
Perform the synthesis
Wait for the nuisance to abate

Ride on the magic carpet
Be nimble
Pass on
Against the grain
The shrill laughs
Just make your way in the world
Through the Savannah
Going job hunting

Downplay it
A well deserved day off
Coke bottle glasses
Sleepless
Countering verbal assaults
Chopping wood and ******* blood
Oh brother, oh bother
Upstairs, down stairs

Pushed away by bad music
The barista sneezed in my coffee
I wonder what she does after hours
Mercy mild
Made from concentrate
You don't want any part of this
You poor anemic *******
You *** stirrer

So lethargic
Victim of calumny
Ruptured appendix
Constantly rebuked
On the pursuit of happiness  
Receiving flack
So pusillanimous
Looking for something cathartic  
Fight with yourself
When your're your own worst enemy
Leaving everyone scratching their heads
And hanging on every word
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
First impressions are my worst impressions
Bad decisions and fallen angels
Pedantic stipulations
Derogatory semantics
Fight with yourself
When your're your own worst enemy
Leaving everyone scratching their heads
And hanging on every word
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
Review the glossary
Check the index
It's a lost cause
The cut throat is fighting
The masked wrestler on a tugboat
They're both wearing Hawaiian shirts
Fight with yourself
When your're your own worst enemy
Leaving everyone scratching their heads
And hanging on every word
Smoke 'em if you got 'em
      -Tommy Johnson

The quartet became a trio
The trio became a duet
The duet became a solo act
The first chair was ambidextrous
His hands worked as a duo
He called them Cain and Abel
They had great reflexes
He washed them with soap and water

He played in light houses
Night clubs
Tin Pan Alley

He sang about tapped phones
With a dead pan, dry humor
And dehydrated wit
To a room full of sugar daddies and their sugar babies
His music left them befuddled but hungry for more

He ate nothing but black bean brownies for weeks
Any tiny morsel of food he could find to survive
He wore a pork pie hat
And would always say "lather rinse repeat"

To him racism was a detestable invention of mankind
"Towel-head"
He cringed at that word

But when he got on stage at The Tree Trunk a moment of tranquility commenced

Deadlines
Bleachers ripped out and put in the dessert so the audience can bleach their bones in the unforgiving sun in Mother Nature's desert

"Not too shabby
If I say so myself
It could make headlines
Sudden death
A stick up man verses a Gestapo
Lightning round

One suffers from Salmonella
The other is addicted to drinking Molotov cocktails for the hell of it
Throw them in the snake pit
We can hear gun shots
And the sound of someone being scalped

Get you souvenir **** plugs here!

These two *** wipes are in the because we had probable cause
One tried ransacking the whole place
And the other came out of the woodwork and threatened the room service boy with cellophane and gasoline

We've taken the proper precautions of course
We have nurses who, after each round will kiss their wounds
Then rag on them and all their short comings
Just for the sake of it

Making this show was a long shot
We never thought it be so big
But all our clients are eating up
What are you mumbling?"

Uh, would you say this sideshow act is inhuman or would you say it's heinous?

"No comment"

We got a god thing going here
We got gun runners and *** runners
Nice and furtive
I will not go to the penitentiary
I'll get a face lift if I have to

She knows too much
Give her a party favor
That represents our colonial ways
Gingivitis
It's a hoot
Halitosis

Pass the ammunition
No flash photography
Bump some coke
Before the search and seizure
Of puzzled looks

Some can't deal with this safari maze
Mutter a prayer for human error
It's first come first served
A double helix goodie-bag
Stomp the home schooled henchmen
Mace them and throw the grenade
It's too close for comfort

And that's the gist of it

The doctor is in but refuses to see you
Now hush
We've reached an impasse
We're all sedated
We're all mutated candidates
Subject to friendly fire
The pick of the litter is devouring the runt
Buzzard food
Shush
This is a stalemate
Please excuse me
We have conflicting schedules
Pilgrims and dive bombers
Settlers free all the animals from the zoo
And keep the castrated guests at bay
We all cheer giddy while the stunt double gets dismembered
We're all in a frenzy because she can walk through walls
We're all impressed and floored with her rainbow credentials
The jury is out

All I asked for was a little off the top
And if you could top me off
Now I see stupid people with double chins
I'm with stupid t-shirts and kick me signs on their backs
Completely unaware of the indecent truths of the world
Truck drivers  stopping at greasy spoon diners, ***** dives
Driving down freeways, parkways, highways, turnpikes and interstates
People eating up the **** the press put on us
Augmented *******
Formaldehyde for our loved ones
Pull the plug, push the plunger
On the tobacconist and his eerie broad shoulders
I asked to french kiss, I was rebuffed and left flat alone in a gazebo
The apathetic drive through worker told her to **** her father with an indifferent look
A bead of sweat traveled down her tempted face
Her moral spindle is low on twine
Her meds are wearing off
The roustabout is now a stenographer after his time in the roundabout and a heave **
Into a case of small pox and a bout with shingles
As the biker gets nursed back to health
And we all slowly decompose

We're all ingredients in the humanity stew
The sad clowns
The prescription abusers
The chickens running around without their heads
This dish can never be out done
It's killing me
Ashes from Pompeii
The braces of teenage heart throbs
****** black and blues from abusive relationships
Fill the pots and pans
A homemade meal per say
Chain linked sausage fences
Add some Epsom salt
Some beef chuck
Giblets
And Simonides of Ceos
Daphoenus bones
A dentist and a retainer
Cornets, pirouettes and percocets
Awkward magazine subscriptions
You can buy the cookbook in all its opacity
See it in the Intrepid Museum
There is work to be done on Mount Olympus
Therefore we should go see a movie at the drive in

       -Tommy Johnson

Uncle Sam reclines and unwinds
In his Adirondack chair
The Statue of Liberty reminds the Mater at Arms
Of the time when he was put in a peyote trance
It was only then he caught on
He rammed his head against his headboard every night
Wracking your brain, trying to wrap it around the concept of the excommunication of those who have had their mouths washed out with soap

There will be no fanfare for the stray lambs
They are only meal tickets for the clergy
Concord grapes and word of mouth
Raise the question, "what is in a hot dog?"

Don't latch on to me after I dance with you into mad denial under a brass florescent chandelier in front of all the stock brokers and shareholders
I'll dismantle your silver lining with a spork

The  cow pies disappear due to erosion

It's good to see you, I didn't know burlap sacks were all the rage right now
Stencil your name on it for good measure
How do you feel after your ego death?

Tossing the pigskin
Burrowing and displaying the Ostrich effect
All applause for the chairman of the board of trustees
And all the spiddle on his back up shirt

Mortify them
An incomplete pass
Rally the troops
For unfinished business

Shift gears
Reread the post script

"P.S.  The unzipped flies of store owners trying to replicate the success of their fathers. Piddle about, play with implements of torture, instruments of destruction. Wander in the wilderness, grunt and sigh as your civilized brain rattles. Make way for Plan B, and fill out the forms in triplicate. Fumbling at the controls, emergency landing. The gear shift and crankshaft have given out. Listen to the titillating chatter of the disappointed passengers who all longed for the window seat.

Always your's
Edmund Balthazar "

Take two
I could slap you

I was on the gurney
Belching my guts out
After eating surf and turf
I'll fill you in
I had whooping cough
And a case of the Monday's
I had worn out and overstayed my welcome
My attempt to out eat the local human garbage disposal fell flat
Now they put water from a birdbath in my drip bag
I'll clue you in
All the energy I could muster up was used to say
"I'm off Wednesday, but it's Tuesday but it feels like Friday

Doubled over with glee
Extinguishing the flaming escorts
Then taking off to Alphabet city
To meet the escape artist
He's nutty
And has asked me to accompany him to his thirty four acre plot of land
Somewhere out in East *******
He wants to film a blockbuster
It's top secret, only we know
There will be a scene where the protagonist yodels for his father
And erects a windmill with his honest hands
I found this pony-tailed guy in the classifieds
He was looking for an accordion player and I replied
He called me The Flavor of the Week
He had boxes and boxes of wigs and toupees
And every time he put new one on, he was a different person
He would go upstairs and leave me in the den
I'd hear thuds, thumps and screaming
Some kind of emotional turbulence
He said he bit the bullet when Houdini made it big
But when Houdini bit the dust, he went rapping at the door of his estate and gnawed at the door handle
And would not stop ringing the bell
Laughing and laughing
It was his chance to get the rebound
And get down to the nitty gritty
But I couldn't bring myself to tell him this was going to be a box-office bomb
He tried incessantly to revive his dreams
He went mad and ran a square mile
He still writes me, and tells me I never call
The phone works both ways buddy
And I do not see you coming in today's forecast
So I'll come to you, you *******

"Take a throne, we're all royalty here"
Said the Master of Ceremonies to The Peeping Tom, The Spokesperson, The Wretch and The One Man Band

He pulled out the syllabus
It said that each of his colleges must fulfill a duty if they wanted membership into this social club
The One Man Band had to seek out a impudent amputee, a touchy nomad and give them brochures to a day spa
The Spokesperson was asked to to find his inner child, his feminine side and his sensitive side while making good conversation with Arch Duke Franz Ferdinand and ask him why he holds a grudge against Bosnia

The Wretch was given the task to sell Avon products to those who looked like death warmed over and sway their urges to burn their candles at both ends
Lastly, the Peeping Tom was told to teach the languid, rough and tumble lipid worshiping people the number line then pass out pamphlets on healthy living

After reviewing their work and the rubric, the Master of Ceremonies congratulated them, they were in

"You will all now be a part of history, figures on this brotherhood's timeline; you fit the bill!"
They all got up as the Wretch footed the bill and went on to go wassailing

       -Tommy Johnson

How can you judge?
How can you count?
How can you perceive?
How can you know?
What it's like in a day of  life of another?

Different time zones
Zip codes
Regions and countries
Cycles
Circumstances
Hemispheres of women and men

Likes
Senses
Problems
Dislikes

Measurements
Of weight
Distance
Height
And time

But we all share a life force of love
Whether we embrace it or push it away
Is every individual's choice
And that is life

Season change
Time passes forward
We can only look back
But live in the now

Will this moment by mine, your's our last?
Plan
Remember
Savor
And hope

Learn
Feel
Absolve
Go on

Celebrate, commemorate and commend
The circle never ends
Have no enemies and make friends
There is no room for hate so re-amend

Look deep into the eyes of those who you share air
Look fondly into the soul of those who sip from the same cup
Overlook color
Disregard secular stigmas

Swap each other's shoes and run a mile
Then you can comprehend
You will know
What love and what life means

One day Frick when to the place to buy some stuff
While Frack stayed in the area to do some things
Frack tossed out some junk
He used the the whatchamacallit to clean the thingamajig
Pick up the odds and ends
And he scrubbed a doodad with the thingamabob


Frick purchesed some knickknacks and bric-a-brac
A few sundries
A couple of tchotkes and trinkets
Some whatnot
A gizmo
A gadget
And more miscellaneous paraphernalia

When Frick got home Frack asked "What'd you buy?"
Frick said " Oh, this and that" "What'd you do all day?"
Frack said "Just a hodgepodge of etcetera, etcetera"
       -Tommy Johnson

I'll save my money for a rainy day
I have filled up tube socks like no one else I've ever known
Tucking it away for my trip to see The Man on the Moon
He's someone who's like no one else I've ever known

When all is quiet in the dead of night he sends out screaming shooting stars
I know it's The Man on the Moon when I look up
When the tides come farther in to touch the shore
I know it's The Man on the Moon when I look up

Here comes the sun, hide your bills in your cash box
Expenditures bigger than any other I've ever known
It burns a hole right through my pocket
Deeper than every hole I've ever known

When it rains and it tastes like moonshine
I know it's The Man on the Moon spilling his cup
When it's a crescent and I see a fishing line
I know it's The Man on the Moon pondering I don't know what
When it shines so bright at midnight
I know The Man on the  Moon is looking down at me
When it's full and it's just right
I know The Man on the Moon is at peace

Now every one down down here thinks he's a lunatic
With all his lunar antics some kind of ludicrous
I tell him this, he has a laughing fit and ask how he's the clown
When we live on an over populated rock with gravity that just keeps us down

When the sun goes down and it comes up
I know The Man on the Moon is wide awake
I see it rise, oh what luck
The Man on the Moon has until day break
Here it is it's in orbit
I see The Man on the Moon swimming in his craters
When the light comes he is merely dormant
But in the darkness every moment with The Man on the Moon I savor

Her life has gone haywire
So she hits the sack of hay
Capital Hill tries to take advantage of this
So they try to revive their old conservative practices
With tools of maladjustment

The criminals give good ideas
To the goody-two- shoes looking to bust loose
Who create dark desire
For the demented ones with power

The Birthgiver slaves away
Until her heart gives out
The Embeder is on his hands and knees
Searching for sustenance
I, the final product is at the first national bank
Missing all who have died

The man from Illinois
Pleads not guilty
The judge looks in the eye
And says this mistake will cost him

His lawyer stands up
And puts his hand on the mans's shoulder
And tries to cheer him up
And says "it's only a life sentence, you'll be fine"

The smart mouth, while ridiculing the knife thrower
Sees the sword swallower  doing his act
And asks, "Did you pick that trick up from your ***** mother or **** father?"
The sword swallower regurgitates the saber and removes the smart mouth's tongue

Soon after, the smart mouth becomes the fat head
Who is now a priest
Who has no idea what he's talking about
But, neither do the people who follow him

Our six-star rank general calls an assault
And tells his soliders to do handstands
As he personally executes our last hope
To end this holy war we have nothing to do with

All the branches collectively agree
The public can never know their plans
They can only be spoon fed political promises
That aren't meant to be kept but to get votes and fund their federation

If you look up naive in the dictionary
You'll see the synonym ignorant
But in an atlas you find the address
Of some one who sees the school system more useful than an encyclopedia and library cards

I hope that the kids of tomorrow will be prepped and ready
For a world where it's not what you know but who you know
And where a degree is the equivalent to bathroom tissue  
But mutual friends are golden tickets

The musicians these days aren't artist but entertainers
Who write catchy tunes with an accessible message
While the social networks keep us connected
And up to date with everything they say we need to know

I dream of creating something simple
That can wake up the world from this trance
So it can stand up and make a change
And save the unborn and put the dying at ease

The retired vaudevillian engraves his love's epitaph while eating caramelized clusters
The local sodomites huddle around and mourn outside the morgue
Waiting for the body of their **** to be handed over
They've given her body an overhaul
She looks more alive than when she was living
Hobnobbing with the well-to-do

The retired vaudevillian comes to collect the body of his deceased wife
He looks down at the sodomites
For their outlandish appearance and choice of employment has resulted in mistrust

"Oh my love, why couldn't you have been the driver instead of the passenger whose body was jettisoned into the air and smashed upon the asphalt?"
"She could do ten thousand breast strokes, paint masterpieces with one brush stroke"

The sodomites began to taunt the vaudevillian
Calling him washed up
He retorted back calling them toothless heathen ******  
A mercenary was called to end the dispute outside of the morgue
He killed half of the sodomites and tasered the vaudevillian

The undertaker wheeled out the body bag on dolly
But he lost control, and the body went careening down the hill into a cloudy bay
The party of mourners grouped around the bay and watched the body float on to the afterlife
She left behind her has-been husband and her **** ******* cohorts
I bet she would have appreciated this little organized dime store wake

The one who knows what an aglet is
And the one who found a cure to break outs
Are neck and neck
In the race to critical acclaim

The pure of heart take aim towards the regency
With flushed flesh
As if they were the ones racing

The chaste one vexes them all
They hope her chest caves in
And her vital organs fail
They see her as an appalling misuse of DNA

In this sequence
There is a strong emphasis of hate
But why?
Because hate is one of the fundamentals of life that's ubiquitous
Until an outbreak of letting go comes
And the appeals for torment to befall others come to and end

With that said, I want to see who wins this race, if that ***** little ***** gets what she has coming to her and those know-nothings on the throne get over thrown
As I enjoy this rhubarb and turpentine pie
It looks mouthwatering as ever

The temptress zigzags into the barracks
And makes off with the subservient uniform wearing rifleman's milk money
To buy a swimsuit for her ephemeral summer body
That will sag to the floor by the first few days of autumn

She hacks the submarine's sonar system
And lets the current take her to a cedar river bend
Where she sniffles while polishing her handgun
Reserved for all those who lag behind in the arid region
To release them from their contractual servitude

Causing a ripple effect
Of inconclusive prospects
Etcetera , etcetera

Dave slipped on a banana peel
And fell into an accusation of nepotism
And illegible label makers  
This was the start of a losing streak
A stifling of his creativity, a hesitation of inspiration
So on and so forth
Cherry did somersaults
And watched the Doppler radar
Snorted lines off a shattered mirror
And quoted tongue twisters
In a car without safety belts
She was a contentious insect
With cauliflower ear
These two divorced a fort night ago due to irreconcilable differences
There was an upheaval in their relationship  
After their lobotomies
Just one of the variables
There was pistol with only one bullet which caused them to fuss and fight
Then the argument who would be on top when they went to sleep in their bunk bed
A mahogany end table went through the window  and a serpentine stream of blood oozed across the floor
It was an act of petulance on someone's part
Who ever it was got away through their underground passageway
All the connotations of the word "brash"
And gray porous creatures
Are mere trinkets of their die hard love

It's all  conspiracy
Idle hands are the Devil's playthings
I told you so
Remove the feeding tube
But not during the gestation period
By after the gastric bypass
And right before the insemination
Put the fault on the horse voiced gentry
And the perpendicular denominations
What's it to you?
You estranged neo-native
Counterfeit piety and disobedient estranged friends unnerve you
You act so factious
Deliberately making everything a joke
Ponder the trajectory of my fist to your glass jaw
And the brass knuckles to your abdomen
You'll want to get an iron lung when we're through
Maybe a respirator and a catheter
Now, go count your toenail clippings as the idle minds cast their votes for this referendum

       -Tommy Johnson

Talk is cheap
Money talks
Show it to me
And let me buy the lies at half price

The movement was passed
All objections were sustained
I was the only who abstained
But the motion was carried

Commotion in the streets
Protesters lying on the trail tracks waiting for the locomotive to come

Mistrial!

The tabloid business was  in the black
The humanity department was in the red
And the guilty were in the clear
Even though the truth was out in the open
Behind closed doors the politicians, the judges and the lawyers shook hands and smile sipping on nefarious brandy

And now a murderer, a thief and a certified maniac are free to walk among us all and an innocent person who was at the wrong place at the wrong time is being put to death

Someone doesn't know how to add or subtract because the calculations of this case do not make sense

Or maybe it was planned by tactile suit and tie tyrants of law
Docile, dishonest
Yet, reputable

Coaxing in the courtroom
Dogs released on the rioting citizens outside
The rest of the jury's heads in the clouds
When a guiltless human being is facing the final curtain

The scandal is apparent because the judge has been know to enjoy ******* and young ******* clad women

On the surface I do not look like I've been driven up the wall
But I now fear of never waking up
The horror of unrest
I want to detach myself from this thing

These men jag their names into the wall of shame at the stag party
And allow three evil men go free and an unlucky man meet his end

I wish it wasn't all so technical

I feel like God hates me
Or stopped caring
Ceased to provide
Left for good

And now I'm left here to straighten myself out for better or for worse

I've met people who feel the same way
Who surprisingly have the pincushion audacity to put all the blame of their misfortunes in the absence of the omnipotent one  
I just feel abandoned they feel betrayed

Maybe he makes a chump change commission on every life he guides to a certain point then leaves them stark naked at the haunting hour

I know all the preachers and secular teachers lie through their teeth
They win the merit-less hoax award by a landslide
They have no consideration of for the people they mislead or the ramifications their poisoned sermons causes

They use emotionally charged language to increase the parish's numbers
They're terrified of God, they live in fear
And see carpal tunnel as a punishment for ******* and wish blindness upon all those who partake

There is shared consensual hiraeth between those who have been through an invasion of privacy and the trespassing of private property
They want their rights and their guns back
They want their personal space
They retreat to their happy place

Let's go back to the Pantheon of lactose intolerant divine idols
Of epileptic godheads
Who's line of work is about incubated pie pans

Can you make a tutorial that summarizes the resounding reduction of options using nothing but euphemisms?

We were promised the land of milk and honey
But we've made mindless dribble and front running our bread and butter
You can tell they've filtered out all ingenuity as soon as you walk into the gallery
The Pine Barrens wilt
The Polar Ice Caps thaw
And all precious metals become worthless in the eyes of spice rack collectors
Religious rites
And the evil dimples of ****** misconduct between priests and alter boys
Frivolous ramparts made of humming body parts that suffered a downhill slippage in the pecking order

Poetry written in chalk on the diaphanous walls of the abandoned plaza near the villa by the beach

"The surge of powerhouse blood thirst caught in the door jam under the arch is asked to double back unhurried as the shops are dipped in ivy"

       -Tommy Johnson

Back stage everyone was in a huff getting ready for the show
The critics were in the balconies
The understudies waited jealously in the wings
A fresh crop of new actors were about to take the plunge
To some this was just a pit stop to fame
To others this was their big break
And to the rest it was a moment where people would chew them out and pick at all their rookie moves
The actresses eye make up so rainbow-vibrant
Like oil spots
Popping Dramamine so they'll be able to stomach the ride
The men putting brill cream in their hair
Looking like quaffed oil slicks
Like they ran their fingers down an dip stick and applied generously
They all had great, even sun tans
Melanoma was of no concern in the tanning beds
And the burnt skin was just picked away
Sunspots

Here it comes curtain call
"Places everyone"
Time for this debacle
Everyone take a lap at the salt lick for luck

Take a bow
Not a dry eye in the house
They cast recedes back stage
Crying, hugging
They congratulate each other
But now live in paranoia of what the reviews will say
The applause outside is nonstop
They're all gonna need Melatonin to sleep and end the excited squeaks

They all get in their cars
Their SUV's
4 doors
2 doors
Hummers
All terrain vehicles
Taxis
Buses
Trains
And get rest for the next show tomorrow

As I'm left here driven to madness by guilt
Because I paid off the crowd to clap and the pundits to write rave reviews
That was the act for this evening, a tor de force production

We went to the park to sit on the orange bench and devour ripe peaches
And sweet olives
We saw the man who would always be out on his deck admiring his own yard work
And the kid with the bulbous head who sat on his stoop and stared at passersby with a deep-rooted curiosity
The sky became pink
As a girl with a septum ring walked passed us
Is that sanitary?
Then we saw the mother of the boy who was just put in the sanitarium
And wife of the man who works in the bio dome planetarium  
As we're leaving we stepped on a manhole cover that read "CoMmUnIcAtIoN "
And unbeknownst to our backs and behinds were now colored orange
People began to ogle us, whisper to their friend and laugh

Shes's got her work cut out for her
She sells patio furniture with a hairline fracture
And puts the pain aside
She eats pulled pork sandwiches for lunch
But stays neat as a pin

It can get repetitious for her
So some nights after her shift she gets down at a bar in town
Amidst the drifters and prodigal sons
And tickles the ivory's
The whole bar gets to a stand still
When shes tells them all to get with it

But then without mention she stopped showing up to work
And no one at the bar hadn't seen her in a long time
She left for North Carolina
She left went to search for a new life
As the people she left behind simultaneously searched for her

Methuselah went gallivanting around town with some *******. When a mysterious person with a bag on their head with the word "Yuck" on it crossed their path. The person began to inform them all about the dark arts and practical black magic.
And attempted to peddle stolen his and her towels to them. Passing it off as homemade genuine hand crafted cloths . When they were just used rags with faded embroidering on them.
Neither Methuselah or his ******* had the wherewithal to purchase the lousy linens.
Methuselah showed the Bag-headed person his empty pockets.
The person shook their head in affirmation and took the bag off to reveal the face of a woman with no eyebrows and the number "96403" on her left cheek.
She put the towels in the bag and went on her way. The ******* and Methuselah went to a motel that night to get busy .
The young man at check in said he was sorry because there were no towels in their room.
To both their surprise two bags were there hanging on the rack instead.
One said "Odium", the other said "Pang".
 
       -Tommy Johnson

The ingrate is chewing on his ungrateful cud
But he isn't a liberty to say what's in it
He spits fire at social drinkers
And goes slow mo in the fast lane
Just to ******* those he considers wastes of life
He'd curse them out but that be a wasted breath

The milk maid's dunlap is protruding
But she doesn't give 1/16th of a ****
Or 1/4th of a ****
She has gunk in her teeth
But all the *****, ***** old men are all aboard The Desperate Express

The polygamist is off to the races
Then the roller rink to inject misinformation into the grapevine
He gallantly gives his consent to take a lie detector test
As they try to get past his veneer and get a confession compromised of cul-de-sac secrets
With their monocle and chronic swamp-*** they contracted while waiting on line at the concession stand

The spy's identity will not be compromised
He needs to investigate this world's nation wide arms race to the red button that will undoubtedly end us all
That's why hes undercover in the vineyard
His beliefs correspond with mine
He thinks the planet will be fine but its inhabitants are doomed
And I concur