When I had fallen off the horse,
I could say it was a blur, a blur of a thousand drinks
A blur of two lost lovers holding hands,
LOst my beer in the sand,
She lost her man

Cause I'm a drunk,
and nowadays country music sounds so hurt!
it seems as though
it seems as though
it seems as though
The horse kicked me good

Drunken flashback to the summercamp,
We're talking and laughing under the sun
You smile at me, it's just like country!

Cause I'm a drunk,
and nowadays country music sounds so hurt!
it seems as though
it seems as though
it seems as though
The horse kicked me good

Fast forward to me being a drunk,
I only hear rap-country on my *** walkman cassette
Where is the country and where is my beer, it's all messed up
I can say I've missed the Country Western Days,
I can say I've missed it

lonesome for the country
i need to get outta town,
with this city
in for a penny
in for a pound.
i need to get back to my roots
i wanna fill my boots
with some hallowed cuntry sound.

a skate board flys by
clack-clack on every side walk crack,
same rhythm same rhyme
as that lonsome long snake
rollin' down the line.
movin' up the steel to a muddy sky.

a pedal steel wails as a cop goes by,
72 chev malibou sails through a red light.
on every corner you have to look left,
you have to look right,
you can't go lookin' up the steel to a muddy sky.

this city she has her shades of blue,
a man on the corner with a national,
two hands poundin' out a delta groove..
head tilts back sings you godda move,
you godda move,
movin' up the steel to a muddy, muddy sky.


© 2005

I want it all that comes with the game
The money the cars
The cash and the fame rapping on a stage
Fans screaming my name
Houses in different states
Investments real estates
Cross Cuntry trips making great escapes
Mansions in the sky's
Cribs on lakes
All these fancy things

Pandemic
I.
Staring at the empty screens
Of all our ineptitudes,
Our demons whetting whistles,
Our joints atrophied.

Staring at the walls –
Surely not the news.
Can’t bear to look at a mirror anymore.
There’s something deeply unpleasant
Growling back.

Or the pub across the street with its
Christmas lights burning,
And the bar dark as the world was at night
Before we killed it with our fire.

II.
A million hours and a million monkeys
With half-baked ideas and reddening eyes
All trying to pen the next dime novel:
Pandemonium or Apocalypse Today,
Praying pulp doesn’t pulp before being read or read about
By the tired eyes and hands counting
Cheddar and pages and hours,
Until we all clock out.

My contribution to a dying ocean of death –
At least that’s what Bo reckoned
(Among many others drowning)
Is a journey through childhood
And wannabe streams of King and ‘cuntry.’

The old post-colonial riddle:
Can we be sorry for what we’ve done?
Endless masks thrown to the ground
Amongst self-respect and science and what
Used to be described as thought and thinking.
At least that’s what we kid ourselves.

Civilisation was never particularly civil.

III.
Start making the tin foil hats –
We won’t be leaving the house anytime soon.
We’ve a television series to finish scribing –
Eight years down and surely eight more to go.
There’s a four-hour silent French movie to watch
And what about your vegan friend –
Who hasn’t finished his journey to salvation yet?

There’s an endless stream of distractions to go:
You’ve read twenty-five books so far –
And it’s just gone July.
There’s an endless stream of desperation
And an endless stream of angst
And an endless stream of nothing
And death is just the beginning
Of
Your
Nothing.

And as the bard rightly charged:
“Here ain’t no place for dolls like you and me.
Everybody’s on a barge
Floating down the endless stream of great TV.”

So among the burning, we find a seat,
Nestle into that newly worn spot on the couch
And pretend we’re not there.

piranha, pariah,
He giveth, He taketh away,

for the piranha, for the parihah,
He commands every woman, child, man be destroyed,
in cases of hopelessness too given over to evil to ever be humane again

fairest thing ever.

there is a cuntry called india
there a religion called islam
third world filth that can never rise above
cursed and more cursed
proud, wrong, and more proud and wrong

eating **** in india, machete wielding, stoning women to death in islam
inferior, inferior, inferior
wait until the Americans fully catch on

JUST YOU WAIT DIKSHIT, JUST YOU WAIT MOHAMMED,
JUST YOU WAIT ******* SO CALLED CHRISTIANS WHO HATE ISRAEL
ALL OF YOU ARE GOING TO HELL WHEN YOU DIE

eternity lasts a very long time. what have you done to curse your children today?

not exactly a news flash for those who have an iq above 80,
but palastine never had a rightful existence

He commands every man, every woman, every children be destroyed

because they are the philistine,
they will always be a problem
they seek to curse their children
they call it love,
they call terrorism love,
they eat ****, and bring the third world with them every where they go.

it's called pride, it's called an appetite for ****, it's called india, it's called islam

every man, every woman, every child be destroyed.

photographs rarely doth me justice boot at least some idea will be available if aye seem appealing enough to kiss. boy george, i will try to maintain a thorough lee good convivial over tone so police pardon moi, who calls out justin timberlake time this hermit tick lee sealed hominid dwelling metallica regular rolling stone sans placid yet poison end herman hermits stung by the scorpion human league this abba ca dabra purported - vee lad putative culture club virtual puddle of mudd digital glop, nor conclude me crud cuz, this olda boy - by george wants 2b yo steve a door miller bud jist hole dejure sly and the family stone horses that wanna prance n let there be dragons, seals and crofts me fair lady gaga cuz u auto let my *** pistol gofundme 2 see eddie money far hay, how duh name of dis swiftly tailored tar nation did ya got a hold - don't be afraid e cat nor slink away like a def leppard, fur mebbe i wrote cha from this utter alias name from zee station here or maybe at my previous abode while sipping tea? enjoy a glass of vintage wine don't let the rush o time induce necessity to reciprocate with one or more lines for your aura, charisma, enigma variations align to evoke an alluring, captivating, enervating charm of a gal, whose electronic presence felt as like an animal farm-ville replete with picture perfect barn, and chicken coop where foxes befriend each hendricks without harm dis here buoy i.e. stanley steamer doth newt goot any piercings and no tat twos any where, boot not bothered by a gal covered froom head to foot, or...one with my name i.e. matthew scott harris 'tho no emerald, ruby sapphire, nor flash gordon in the pan could ever sway me away from living a short span that would allow, enable and offer at least a millennium where we can take a spin in my car a van actually, this bloke drives a 2020 hyundai elantra, which revving engine silenced guns and roses without inducing your stomach 2 turn and skin appear to turn green, when most would agree this mutt spouts a meaningless pro verb whose poe it tree haint superb with no intent to perturb butta sprinkle your monitor with some savory her band...also ye need not worry this schlemiel ***** trained habit upon georgian bush doth politely curb. witness this somewhat inn o 50 cent pennywise thrift, nickelback, dime a dozen face no bias, boot moi christened name, would be matched by equipoise ****, and amazing grace becoming a worthy friend within the milieu of virtual place who could disguise herself as being an alien from the human race perhaps our egress living **** seems light years away in an acme safeway, wholefoods, et cetera and secure distant virtual or real space so if intrigued to learn more send bits o digital feedback in binary code or across the heavens some skywriting message these eyes (e'en though tired like twin led zeppelins) will trace. i wish (as u2 might also desire as belonging to the human league) to feel that palpable poison us scorpion stinging pearl jam metallica making egress viz in living color deep purple reigning village people. this beatle browed (harkens to the black crows of Nazareth) that sound akin 2 rushing train of pleasure that courses thru an entire being (during black sabbath) on account of welcoming frequency to explore journey toward nirvana sans writing as the mental foreplay toward...inxs letting this red hot chile peppered beastie boy playing with one bare naked lady. even if something real and tangible a possibility, you could be disinclined to step up to a closer degree of intimacy, perhaps based on seriously involvement with a significant other since progressing thru the creed dent shul of many emotional/ spiritual trials and tribulations. no need from me to resort with insistence (vis a vis induce any hype or pressure, yet once in a lifetime golden finger red opportunity) to experience one direction of joey vivre enjoyment of me as feigned bad company. police - kanye kim e sump tin faw free swiftly tailored made oh kay tee perry up so i can go gaga over ma dear lady.lettuce both induce glee juiced send n email 2 me 3 doors down with inxs of pearl jam shutters no beginning nor plea cuz ah already rote in ma dire straits pledged yar troth can, yippee contrived virtual toy story qua ratatouille poetic brew could materialize in2a likely chance such an idea prods me 2 shrek out with excitement & dance just in case a glimmer of prospect in the park exists. this self anointed bard dislikes formality, hence i present good humor skills, which hopes to enhance this chap who offers poetic expression uncommon in france. he sets sights on sand fran sis go. take a glance 2 help dis intuitive **** sapiens sharpen mental acuity like a lance bite size bit torrent word play might cause ye 2 soil pants interpreting hodgepodge as rave & rants. even platonic rapport would buoy positive stance intent worth b friend ding, 2 sway au currant series electronic charge affect hypnotic trance 4 consideration 2 advance. I betcha never red an intro duck tory reply like this quacker. i'm an ink blot from bic pentameter typed o'er electric wires boyish looking blood muggle father up in years, (whose nonpareil courage 2 face Voldemort, which exploit does tire), and 2 luv lee young adult girls want him 2 sing miles away from the choir 2 prevent game raw bits of yar self 2 acquire frum a boyish chap dreaming excitedly 4 grandiose ******* interludes joyful kindle bound by pages o love, who lives within perkiomen valley, penna, but, yukon only text. postscript nose one: would you care2 become my bride no joe king nor do i chide please take me away alive or freeze dried or sere this buck hits hide, which lil maximus m butted pill grims pride moon thuntz later whipped mir cull o joy n pure writ tin pride. postscript nose two: i noah nuttin bout witches r warlocks boot feel spellbound with magic dat mockshard science and knocks said solid ******* principles that hocks some basis in astrology n such early learning blocks of humanity - now swept away like chicken pox virus, yet those un-named discoverers of matter allow artificial satellites capable to establish docks far removed from gravitational force when (keep this on the qt), those spacecraft lobbed into cosmos base sic lee from a potion of balled up soiled red socks void where prohibited by sign language or pop yule lye vox. unlike my personality to come across like some forceful chap ling go ring, ******* buster keaton being ****** will buoy us alight if we take to some invisible primal grunting wing from - this average male member egret, who rem members when we first met and consider thee a queen for this rolling stone, who emails (then abduct) me via the net adieu. Bye. chow now, this mwm will await pleasure like when ye text me - if willing, ready, eager and able create r hard woo n intimate ace cee dee cee zip pity doo dsh fable enjoying your cuntry villa mossy two lipped gable ****** sans the medical terminology whispered to thee when voiced per phone where airwaves crackle, snap n pop like mayhem of cars or babble heard at tower of babel via telephonic cable or rsvp tap text message to me a dope gang pull chose er this label the offspring of one great great great...grandmother named Mable who adorned herself in horsehair woven from her thoroughbreds kept in a golden arched stable housing a large equus shaped table.