I was thinking I didn't quit on love
Love done quit on me
As I pulled into the roadhouse
at US 36 and K383

I rode this road a million times
And I don't remember this
But, I needed to pull over
Before heading to Ole Miss

The devils work is never done
He'll get you what you need
You've got to be the stronger man
If you are too succeed

The place was really rocking
No cars, but it was full
And for once I'd found a roadhouse
Without that **** electric bull

I ordered from the barkeep
A fellow known as Slim
And as he turned to fill my order
I could swear I could see through him

I looked around in amazement
Why did I not know this place
But, when I looked at all the people
I knew most every face

I listened to the music
A fellow played a fiddle of gold
I couldn't get him quite in focus
And a clear thought I'd not hold

Everyone was familiar
Though, something was not right
I could see clear on through them
Was it me, or just the light

I ordered up another
to tell the truth, Slim poured it first
It was like he read my mind
And was in tune with my thirst

A voice came from the distance
Although the voice sounded quite near
There was no one there beside me
But, I could hear it loud and clear

You didn't give up love
Love done quit on you
That's why you found this roadhouse
While you were passing through

Your wishes will be granted
Here on K 383
But, first you have to realize
Nothing comes for free

Silent from the shadows
Came a man all dressed in red
From his red leather boots
To the fedora on his head

He said I am the owner
I can fulfill your desire
But, remember if I do it
You must spend time in the fire

I didn't know quite what he meant
And another drink was poured
I think it was my third or fourth
But, who was keeping score

Love is what you're after
That's what brought you to me
That's why you found this roadhouse
at 36 and 383

Love is yours forever
Though forever will soon end
I can give love everlasting
But, it isn't free my friend

You must want what I am giving
As he stared with eyes of coal
I will fulfill your hearts desire
But, in the end it costs your soul

The music had now faded
The crowd was there, but not
He moved a little closer
And I started feeling hot

The barkeep poured another
And I looked down and did see
A contract and a feather quill
With two names, and one was me

Was love worth what he's asking
I mean  my soul, that's quite a price
But, true love everlasting
Man, that sure sounds rather nice

He said sign at the bottom
And you can always drink for free
At this little outback roadhouse
At US 36 and 383

I told him I'd consider
And I got up to get some air
I told him I felt pressured
And I thought it quite unfair

He pushed the quill toward me
And said I can free you of your load
Just sign and stay forever
At our bar on this old road

I pushed back from the bar rail
Got outside and got some air
I turned when I got outside
And the roadhouse wasn't there

All I saw was just two highways
And I felt the wind sting  my face
I then knew I was at the crossroads
This was the devil's trading place

I survived here at the crossroads
Of US 36 and 383
And thought I didn't quit on love
Love done quit on me

So next time you're out driving
whether by truck or by car
just keep on a moving
if you see "Crossroads Bar"

the big fat bus
with the big fat yellow bootay
soon
began to see
steam billowing
out
from under her
big fat yellow hood.

so trembling,
and idling rough
she pulled into the first stop,
a rough-looking roadhouse
to set a while and cool off.

sidling up next to
a brand new big shiny
new tour bus,
she
rather pleased,
for he,
was a
sweet lookin',
and kinda handsome lookin',
kinda thing,
till he opened his mouth.

reminded immediately
of an old song,
her enamor
did not last long.

"when i need something to help me unwind
i find a six foot baby with a one track mind.
smart guys are nowhere
they make demands
just give me a *****
with talented hands.
i go bar hopping
and they say last call.
i start shopping for a
neaderthal.
i like em big and stupid
i like em big and real dumb.”

ah that Julie Brown…
there’s a girl who knows how to belt ‘em out!

she cast a furtive glance
at Mr. Oh SO Brand New Bus  
the big galoop,
waiting for his load,
when out of that rough
roadhouse spilled,
THE drunkest,
MOST obnoxious,
herd of redneck cowboys,
she had ever seen
or would care to ever
see again.

hootin' and hollerin'
shootin' off their guns,
just narrowly missing
her big fat yellow face.

a shovin' and a punchin'
blood flying here and there,
sounds of a cracking
bone or two.

shaking her bumper gently
from side to side,
quietly eased she,
her way
back on to the throughway.
and off she shot!
into the night!

pedal to the metal!
like a bat out of hell!

another
romantic fantasy disaster
narrowly
averted!

Divinity of the Day lets me think I’m in the sky
But that’s alright, like to go about this blind
Exiled darling wandering in the summer blessedly long
Divinity of the Day, my whispered prayer through the dark

God, that enthralled
you read in a raindrop
before it hits the ground
sunset boulevard torch,
is up one of these bends,
waved in night
West Hollywood Rimbaud,
feathers falling into my hair,
dressed in invention’s favorite mood

with my roadhouse sheet music
written of my life’s inspiration adorned walls, slightly cold
I was lost but playing it off, until
my racing heart reached time future and
said, soul adored believe what’s in store
dose to help you forget and live

Harp in hand, each step how it rings
scammed and scorched
no lying that all this running leads to
hardly breathing
There’s smoke around you
drifting into an image faithful to the vast,
wild west
bravely standing despite the emptiness
as if guided, divinely guided

with my diamond focus on the garden path
of the muse, open, aware
just walking through, even confused, you mean
my images of paradise were drawn in too
permanent as the myths, placards of legends

Beaming with a strange and frightening beauty
from chasing the lights that ascent into the heavens
dreamy, daring, absurdly hoping, all the read claiming
Lord knows, enamored with you, so take these pretty copper arrows
good for aiming up beyond, that remind me, been on my own so long

I’ll have you know that this started out
as a love poem
but then I got lazy
and distracted when the dog started biting my leg
and I decided that this process wasn’t
worth it all together
and went outside for a smoke

that’s when I tried to call you
but you didn’t answer
I guess it’s Valentine’s Day
and you’re probably
with some other guy who’s more
sensitive than me
but can he smoke as **** as me?
or cough as loud?
or breathe as heavy?
well probably ******* not
and maybe that’s a good thing
that he’s healthy
and doesn’t smell like the inside of a Texas Roadhouse
before they decided that smoking killed everyone
and no one could do it there
no
not even the good looking people

you always said I was good looking
well
above average
and I cooked good too
and that one Valentine’s Day you said
If you asked me to marry you right now, I’d say yes
that was after I killed the bat in the attic
bought you a bouquet of bleeding hearts and
brought home the puppy
since then
my typewriter has busted
and you have left
P.S.
I still have the dog and
I renamed him Juniper
because that’s what happens when you’re
drunk
and sad
and alone

but now I’m happy
smoking a cigarette
listening to my neighbor’s massive wind chime
conk and sway in the crosswind
and I feel as alive as ever
knowing that you’re
wiping off that red lipstick with a poem I wrote you
because your date just got done
and he’s not sleeping over
and you’re just about to
walk to the back patio
and smoke a cigarette
because you want to die
just as bad as I do

All those others
Standing around

Sardonic smiles
And obsidian eyes

My back bent and breaking
Under the strain

Of Fender Strat
And Blues Deluxe

And a hundred chords,
And riffs and licks

Earlier, the glances,
The nod.
The flirt

And hints at  even
more than that

But in the end
A key to a room

Where the janitor sleeps

Vacuum cleaner
screaming

Against my thin door

In a little roadhouse off the beaten tracks is where I did find her.

She was riding with the hells angels till they kicked her out for being to ruff.

And yet at seventeen the way she could down a budweiser and burb hello ******.


Was a site to be held and i thought to myself

as she broke a pool cue over a man's head who played a song she didnt

like I knew i had met the woman of my dreams.


Sure she drank like a fish cussed like a sailor and hit like a frieght train.

But aside from all thoose good qualitys I like in a woman she did have her hang up's.

Its kinda bad when your first date involves knocking over a seven eleven and leading on

the cops on a five state chase.


And Im not bitter she didnt slow down to let me off.

Im mean the road rash wasnt that bad and I needed to drop a couple of pounds

of course it gives a whole new meaning to burning off the pounds.


And when I saw her about two months later I could tell there was something

there as she held a knife to my throat and looked into my blood shot eye's

and said.

Im gonna cut out your tongue out if you dont buy me a beer.


Yes this beer drinking spitfire had me at hey what the ******* lookin at ****** ?

What a true lady indeed.

Yes when i finally came outta a coma after that first night togather i knew.


That i probaly shouldnt drink outta open containers.

Or carry cash or major credit cards.

When going out with a five foot three spifire named Skeeter.

Through the blue smoke
I see your eyes burning a blaze
And I feel my heart jump
As I negotiate the roadhouse maze
This isn’t just any piece of ***
Any idiot can chase that
But what I’m chasing now
Is a hurricane across the flat.
You’ve had your share of pain
I can only see those brown eyes burning
I can’t take my eyes off the three dots
By your eye that has got my soul turning
Your finger curls at your blonde brown hair
The ringlets fall thick on your shoulders
And every time you pucker your lips
I always feel my nerves smoulder.
I see you tapping away to the evening beat
The long hot Tequila nights before us
The world is playing at our feet.
I see you draw up on a cigarette
The smoke encircles my heart
Now sitting in the barroom five years on
I wish we had taken it back to the start.
I wish we had started again
On that Tequila night
Can I just ask you somethin’, mon amie-
Can you see the light?

'where night is....
an iron bench painted green.'

opal light

love burning,
narrow roads,
roadhouse blues,

flame of moon
city garden
cider roses
petals falling like
little red tides,
curling edges,
spells of flowers,

magic in the swinging
pub signs and the
avenues, the
cobbled streets
running forever,
little vacant space,
love in arms
thrown together,
clicking stilhettos
chips with wooden forks,

here the moon
runs with the clouds
carries in an empty
basket the fruit
of the day eaten
up, wild and high,

our love, where night
is a tide of black ink,
resting after a heavy
day, our love, sad
tonight, beseiged
by strong armies, almost
forsaken and
yet somehow survived,
a delicate kiss on
the landscape,
content at last,
reduced down
to street blues
a wish to wander,
the laughter of a pub.

Septuagint prince scriding on scrivello detail
Emerges from the frogmarch grave of revenants sheepish about ghoulish masquerade
The tribes whittle puckered shibboleths and charismatic vengeance evades
The henpeck of roosters harmonizing sand into grassy knolls of carapace cathedral light
Walks beyond the whimsical despair the conniving conservatories of manufactured fright
Spurned by smokestack confusion above a plastered reconnaissance of abundant life flocking between small awakenings curtailed by fulgurant swelters of blistering white
The spectral dance assumes primordial shades to dampen the windowed elegance of betrayal complicit in the haze
Mojo’s rise and fall with moonshot decades flashing intimacy lived twice barking like a squelched gyrovague relishing the kantikoys of burlesque night
And yet among the bemused stars unbuttoned by the prolixity of the Russia ruse the smear indelible flaunts with decadence in the pleonasm of sluggish articles of flight
How long must the messianic age shelter the nebbich halls of crambazzled piety in science to an upbringing of oligochrome
How many dastardly wernaggles of the rusticated elitism flomp with desultory banquets reminiscent of boiling Rome
Incinerated in an ageless day revived only after a historic lapse of barbarity in the ferule exacted such immeasurable despair
That the prejudice of pride is forever shelved as redundant because the filigrees of geometry only permit curvature in flatness
Convex movements captured in still-framed pillories refract nothing but Blazing Saddles of a caricature full-bloom sun
Yet we marvel at storybook ghosts and the isangelous carapace of marauding instincts forever brave and encaged
Erratic by delivery but sciamachy knows no identifiable age
Scrawny fossarians dig entrenched charnels voraginous with skeletons of brackish regelation enthused by immemorial decay
Must we abridge a hearty ocean in a month’s sublime regaled design of trespasses of unsung heyday spaying its weakest defrocked knight
Armed to the Teeth we seek the terminus of apocalyptic capsules destined for gluttons braving annihilation in the vacuum of orbital planes plain only to the ken of the keenest sight
No we make no petitions in prayer for this Soft Parade of vigor verging on flair
We ransack littoral virtues in nexility bronzed with Stayin’ Alive shoes in remission of staircase blight
Beamish in beatitudes of milquetoast pregnancies of salted Matzah brimming in the yeasts of cesspool emergent from scarecrow metaphors flagrant hauteur gliding on air
Witness the spearhead of revolution in the metagnomy of oracular aubades to future brimstone caverns
Lurking like counterstrokes in revision blackguarded by the feisty prowl of outpaced labtebricole whipsaws of timber readied into foisted brown-brick comestion of elegant emerald errors
Dancing with galactic improvidence concealed by the rigor of lurched liars enthroned with prerogatives of stain-glass adumbration
We parcel up parsecs because clairvoyance among titans is a swank in need of 20/08 visions spectral in the clouds of all prominent registries of memory
Lost to faint delicacies of swift serpents outlasting gnats in the tabernacles of ribald ecbolic promontories on the verge of futile tomorrow pastimes spinsters flummox with slimmerback rigmarole flanged by whinks and escorted by the maskirovka of positive bears in absolute value alone
Yet Enola Gay found its destruction profitable to hominist lore enough to attenuate its evaporation of suffrage in the glint of pervasive remedies to stranded gore
Embanked on the sidelines of conquistador flaunts that a Titanic missive of classy regard found the damsel at the steerage slipping on zalkengur irony the anticlimax of lore
Traipsing fellowship of many a ring is a phony artifice for an ostentation that bellows so loudly when isolated perjury must not whimper but sing
The loudest plaudits afforded to a parallax incumbent white horse in the shadow of Dark Horse occultism a barbed flying wing of the West becoming the king of behest
Scurrilous are many jeers because their similes are baseline just as much as the storged conglomerate behind ensnared rapture looming with less ecstasy and blunt fear remains the kilmarge of simple foresight wrinkled behind the sum of many tears
We await our Creator’s Throne insuperable even with the blandishment of piecemeal craters that are superlative bolides of the weirdest attenuated into the spectrum of eldritch weird
Yet the riches of hobohemia found in “invisible lockets” worn by the travesty of jerseys measuring up to Roadhouse beer
The cartels of citadel cascades built on mountebank fortunes reaped from venal psephology collectively embody the unconscious gamut of javelin cloaks of sardonic sneer
Threnodies written long ago in the Hidden Tracks of sophistry welcome the intermissions of antiquity abridging the donnybrooks of charlatans bossed around by facetious gibes of manicured belletrist humid enough that evaporation itself of rarefied tabacosis has few if any peers
Yet the peerless sketch thrombosis in the oxygeusia of deceptive schadenfreude only to topple jengadangles that glabrous gravity muscles to barely if it all steer
In a vacant reality eager for surrealist bounty the sidereal question of moribund placards supplanted by vibrant living semaphores fixates upon figments of acatalepsy rather than ruddy enumerations of partition despite beloved chalky rudiments filibustering with courtesy rather than jeer
Amicable are ravenous betrayals for chieftains cloffined by warm sapwood integral to equated tantamount mountains festooning firmaments in quaffed delights rigid and keen
The most welcomed blasphemy fragrant with jejune originality celluloid enamors splenetic with sprees of perishable profanity lurking ever more obscene
Regaled in the modest jostle is the forsifamiliation of heterodyne dins of honest applause from the blackguarded periphery among which there are no visible beacons no visible stars
Scarred by diacope enumerated in prescient revelry the trollops of tune and attunement magnetize a riveting weld of seamless geometry that is permeable to ineffable lychgates both porous with prowess and ajar against a golfer’s remediable par
Wizened ghosts flirt with tucked bushes in the forlorn deserts jolted by oasis and flagrant with confection torn asunder by wide-eyed gallantry skipping stones on ataraxia from a distraught afar
That lake of goldmines is scattershot with limey limelight squandered on profligate wrikponds of propinquity but not prolixity in scores and bounties of exoticism in glaikery’s fugitive charm
In proximity there is usucaption but the usufruct of sustainable obelisks to liberty must have the forbearance to bear many witnessed eyes to the Right to Bear Arms
Skirmishes of benighted fracking obsolescence ragged with vitriol and poison-ivy nostalgia flaunt the bromides of algedonic flash over consequences that many disregard
Spiraling with vertiginous pain the scowl of obligation is both seamstress of emblazoned effronteries and the proper reflection of seasoned but not seasonable garb
This barbed quandary riddled with rapacious tendency mixed with myopic bonhomie devours a rickety cacophony of diminutive scopes of ******’s glare to prove each atomic indivisible atrocity a carbonated fulmination heavily barbed
This is all why the killjoys monopolize their gangster vices behind tinted windows and chockablock morality are uxorious bridewells for the bridgewater of garbology sketched by vanity in the outrecuidance of gallionic chasms of an absolute value of firebrand regard
No difference does it make if the recoil is whimpered by hordes of sheep in pretenses of authenticity or whether decapitated delopes emerge from visagist dacoitage snuffed like flavors orbiting self-injury by clockwork towers apace to outlast tertiary bribes for secondary bards
The atocia of freckles in recognition of frail pinnacles summited by daily alpine dilettantist dualisms of polarity are a gullywasher to cleanse and launder indelible regrets carved by aboriginal pottery to memorialize primordial penury
As the slick oleaginous tilts of wicked smart Northeasters swarm the hindsight of Southern Weather afflicted by tempests beleaguered first on recapitulations of Calvary and then deposited evidence upon bourgeoisie
Fumes of the modest flambeaus torching sunken apostasies of hungry spasms of the wind meeting the brusque celerity of the ribald waves rarely etch sublime hint in etch-a-sketch lapses of untimely mobility
Instead that perspicacity of conservatory silence bludgeons Lisbon in the fright before the fall of so many a Phoenix in a foreign land can bear the assaults of the heaved seas
Lambent upon a craggy regularity extinguished by sentinels of the tattered womb for a grimace of prestige by primipara seduction we find no justice of known and knowable terminal disease
Figurative in spoken wisps that predate evaporated concepts of precipitous time the triumph of exalted adoration belongs to hubris but vacant of the prideful decline of crime
To each outspoken verve witnessed on sublunary turf the absolution is nearer to fertility than the craggy soil is to dirt as blemished prowess is a furlough to the sensitive pink tucked manifold beneath each authentic skirt
Liberated by ophelimity but flexed by vicarious pomp in serenade only of hauteur for the hottest we slice and dice a cavern of temptations regardless of enumerated patterns of clearly lopsided dice
We think we live and die but You Only Live Twice in ******* to the oriental bolides of meteoric meteorology preeminent in governing plantations of rice
In jubilant proclamation, I graft from venereal skin a renewed girth of purpose that all enchanted fantasia is a birthright of pleasure more than a vapid drawl of purpose
Glitter bores the scintillation of a denuded naked glory of gore because intimacy is antecedent and consequent to immovable revolutionary procreation of service
To conclude this homily the apothecary in persiflage renounces the role of kilns in both poverty and pottery because his shaken dreams are yelps of a disgusted ornery camaraderie
Listless by oracular dreams of titanic parvenus immune to the sway of tentative croons of Suburban Muse because the grisly subversion of vetust honor that honors not verdict but version of ghastly spools of flimsy epitaphs and not the paragon surgeon is the downfall of a diatribe of petty men
Littering their taradiddles on owleries in overclocked jaundice drowning for purpose among hatcheries of the privvy roosters that own the consequence of audacious pens
Dodgy in interrogation, flummoxed with deracination, isolated by time for time’s recapitulation of surrender in katzenjammer vibes it is time for gossamer servant surfers to borrow nine and hang ten
But the noose of the wednongue nun specializes in puritanical Model Ts for DeLoreans trendsetting years ago because listless lethargy benights the glory that cineastes already won
Teeming on the brink of tomorrow is the progeny of hopeless yesteryear engraved on the iconoclasm of the weak after the next debacle because the Earth after Christ has already borne a Ton
Liturgies revised to reflect corsair trigonometry aimed forever at zephyrs of plight bathe in July 3rd infamy doctored by Generators and Generations before and beyond Walter White menacing the saber with imperious might
Flowered in the nuisance of death is the womb of the arena participant to infinite relapses of contention gladiatorial only when the shunamitism of shanachies sheds serpentine grit for the blench of ligonies of redoubled sight
Towering from the knave inferno of a tramontane elusive cordial imitation of captive citizens of attentive sites the illusion is the vanguard of centuries guarded gingerly by Canada Dry sprites
Rollicking in vehement magpiety attuned to machismo if marginally the sultry philander of naked ruse medicates the charmed Apache Indian on his brief encounters with limousine cruise
Stark in sunken destination glimpsing coal-fire recursive ironies the cloned subversion is a golden calf so effete because it never moos about instinctual muse relegated by twin terrors riddled with sparkplug truce
Limited by scopes enlarged by scales mired in funereal pyres to rigmarole sensationalism worthy of nativist coercion and pivoted lyres the riddle of terminus remains an acquiescent scoff, cough and quaff that never expires
It reaches planetary dread of vast distances regaled against gambits of the spread so the richest sourdough appeases the riper vipers of the nested bed
Recalcitrant with frugal uxorious creed the leader of esquivalience is the headless horseman of innumerable tractions but no mouth to feed
He digests the gallop of the gallant interregnum specious in caitiff ploys and the recessive allele of commiserations against the piety of apolaustic joy because rambunctious speed always attracts a resignation professed from the tailspin of a crass voyage of ludic greed
Tricksters boast of passionate lubrications of finessed bread recocted from useless toasts glowering with insipid pallor as heat and humidity reckon billows of hype congregated more in cisterns of apostasy for remark than a marksman headshot of a Head Hunter wed tightly to a pregnable visions of proactive Ghost
Recidivism and time have a vendetta against verdant drolleries coated by waxen plenilune accordions rampant with polyacoustic rhymes
The tridents of mercurial weather bent on the ineffable vacillations of whether are the brazen opponent of Sterling fatherhood of life’s only father the clockwork animation of a living patronage of eternal existence cobbled from immutable time
To the glory of the Father the sun shades its whimpers and the moon alights as the frontispiece of nocturnal revisions to the New York Times but the hues of rocketed ingenuity coax the ingratiated few to the laureates of genius reckoned with both designation and superlative artifacts of pristine design
Haunted by Green-Light Politics for Greener-Eyed Ladies masquerading in star-crossed tomes of existential dread of lollygagged playful mischief tucked in the coach as he leads his team with sophrosyne feel-good invictive treacle we witness the fumiducts of fortune blitzing Hail Mary contrition with earnest specialty in defense of offensive precision
Games won by the squirrel are outnumbered by the stars in the heavens flagrantly devoid of specialized electricity enough to encapsulate the ommateum of collectivized insights found only in the most evolved sequence of cell division
Incarcerated by the scrappy schlep of bad beats and bronzed chariots roiled by the momentum of angular spears we seek oracular transcendence that cements decades into the span of days that portend the deliverance of future years from past and present fears
Presiding as proctor in the redacted exoneration of crash-course pilots glowering with the effluvium of recensed perdition the heyday of one becomes the mayday of anarchy tested only by the alacrity of the summation of its beloved yet maligned cheers
Against a prosperity hard-won by earnest husbandry commandeered by gammerstang notoriety spawning the recrimination of star power into centupled peers negligent of zero-sum opinionation wagered by Country Club fraternities embedded in the taxonomy of wilted hackumber for hegiras minimized by outcry but cemented by Dear Johns’ twinged with sultry pleonexia in taxed tears
So with the whipsaw of the individual between the collective funnel and the idiosyncratic insubordination that amplifies outcry galvanized throes of insemination built on cross-pollination is melliferous to a pretense of alchemy outstretched to sidereal wonder
Hardest to guess is intimacy clothed in Platonic virtues crumbling because puritanical pilgrimage is appraised as a joyous thunder for a abnegation from all potential blunders
To wager such a life is a depredation of the abundance that John breathes as a ceremonial birthright cast aside by latent regrets stampeding the realm of nosocomial reflections of the pallor of a lurid squander
So we are left to bemuse the decrepit bodewash of realism taken to such a virulent extreme it leaves few artifacts of nostalgia to croon about and ponder and fewer abstractions to yield to manicures of elegant troponder
Diminutive sinews in the intertesselations of heft profess a fidelity of notoriety carving life before and after death
Unsung by the beadledom of the usucaption of exotic tailored musician brutes upon my landlocked assault of chryselephantine usufruct I lampoon nescience as it lurks in murky graveyards of anoegenetic zombies covered in thick pigments of piggish soot
Yet this fuliginous bronteum of warped clarity transfixed by the ulterior wednongues of atrocious spans of provenance jilting providence makes betting interests of rivalry outcomes harder to win earnest roots
The trees of the gamboled skittish resignation of checkered blinks obscuring the curtailed discernment of bedizened slogans of future campaigns yet distasteful in ornery churning the bootstrapped tie their tethered laces to their acquired boots
Barnstorming through afflicted spandrels of abeyance shepherded by notions of public dereliction by imperium of centrobaric centripetal philters of concubine rhymes I surge beneath cordial flonky redhibition because of redshorts in estimable traction cemented by supernal design
Weak in luster my potent pollination for synergistic aplomb evades the fringe of corrugated affections mounted upon quixotic escapades of jockeyed statistics flourishing by reticence rather than frazzling the prolix emulation filibustering the mundane ignorance but garnering the harvest of the plevisable sequence from prime to prime indivisible by liberty alone or complicit with cadence sublime
Finishing the sermons of modern apostasy to a gallant cause my laments outnumber the muzzles belonging to the quorum of begrudged applause in the rawest spectacle of unheralded genius clawing insistently at the heart of electric gravity
The nuances of plausible nuisance bicker in emerald harlots of the tantamount nature of derelict frikmag to calculated prosodemic solidarity around insanity because the vein of the golden ore should see ivoride as nullification and inanity
We all stoop on counterfeit stencils of pretense hearkening a clairvoyant sun to droop for closer inspection but detective remonstrance is outmoded by dreary witless defections
Thus the drawl scrawled by the genius flonky in gadzookerie but gilded in rhapsodies of ineffable cadence fighting orthodoxy to a relegated draw sketches the outline of the special talents of lying claws
Because stipulated in the vast oversight that predicates reprisals of retches glazing in obtuse effronteries with eccedentesiast odontoloxia we witness the corrosion of race and gender into pontificating audits of nomadic treason in a fortress militarized by niche applause
Trickling from repcrevel faucets implicit degradation is a casual casualty of an abbreviated motive gestured in ponderous stupidity to distract abiding legislation into the giggled gaggle of tinsellated glitter
Fatuous by vacuums of gaudy prizes worthy only of token motions rather than locomotive strains of virulent and compassionate respect lapsed on vigors of vehement regret is a sing-song ridicule of a still-framed pillory erected as the obstacle that gouges the riddles of impediment and deprives the luxury of preferential emolument siphoned off to lurid jeers of mockery propaganda sizzling in the cauldrons of tilted marginalization
So we witness the faded declension of the hubris of fair-weather camaraderie as a flux dispersal of invidious buoyant bloviated streaks of temporal grit into inverted revelry never shared by the proper ubiquity of streams of personal recompense for plodding fragments of invasion
If I veer away from bickering cackles of denounced preeminence swiveled to face the shadows upon the great cavern of insuperable bounds of fickle human ignorance I deplore the vaunted toadies that shrink my shadow and diminish my viable conceptual and vibrant footprints
Few extinct creatures know the annihilation of petty fame quaffed on Whiskey Bars I never met because the insipid banal pleonasms of restructured irony grimace at my complexion as the scent of the game alerts the foibles of a champion begotten once before as a shark-tank prince
Livid is my grief in the aborning moral quandary of sunken priority overlapping with piebald skeumorphs of retches of blinkered allegiance faltering prior to the primary day of my true awakening because the completion of nesiote subterfuge  rusts on creaky hinges of noncommittal regressions of pointed but pointless deluge
I spar with the augury of irrelevance with a five-pointed star bequeathing rigid but plentiful provision to assist with more than a petty dime of tithe to a 20/20 flash of perfect prescience and hallowed vision
The eve of all destruction is the lollygag of subordinate squawks redacting convenient priorities on the slowpoke walks through teenage immaturity found in the infamous “talk” that the world is governed by evasion in supremacy rather than by the bywords of the perennial stocks in sublime stalks
This nation perishes with my visionary clarity because the bifocal constraints of delimited defenestration remands my custody beneath ****** upheaval documented by useless historians of deliberation in gaffe and ammunition for agitprop flickering away the aubades of praise for the stilted pretense of sclerotic values inflexible to authorship thus scuttled by crowdsourced dictatorship
How sad a spate that the welters of sciamachy hide behind the glaring shadow of immeasurable genius for an unwarranted earwig to steal the echoes of my thunder and poison the servitude of the minions to companionship to highlight aggrieved infamy over walloping feats of refrain found in an isolated rather than protracted celebrity
The guilt of the reproachable beams through the frikmag of tyrannical bouts of circular wernaggle as I carve spherical reckoning that outstretches in all viable directions so that “The Mailman” and the Male Man both succeed in historic insurrection
Flashy benumbed brutish ferules of ferocious dainty dances with an arbitrary cage highlighted among a voiceless heyday for an auditorium which perceives insanity more dangerous than inanity is a profane stipulation by wrinkled mediagenic hubris which scours planetary limitations for excuse to recourse and recourse to excuse
We find marvels in subtlety finicky on the apothegms of heterochrony divergent even further from syndication as the regimented nuances of abuse become plucky daredevils that cozen robust vital sapwood from anglers seizing by seizure the roundabout logic of the innumerable minority characterized forever obtuse
I writhe in delicate contortions of flexed directional bypass surmounting orthodromic velocities capering with the anenometers that spar against spangled enthusiasm only to become an anointed slave of the flagging moral resolve fulminating a huffed crusade with silentiums of false asylum for true achievement brusque against any resourceful tempest scurrying the hidebound illusion of pandemonium for scrappy shenanigans of vergers and emptied pews griping with the dearth of the day-to-day despite the known tomorrow
We cannot affix primary focus upon constellated wasms of puckered abstention borrowed from a maskirovka of secret hedonism wed to many vices among wives but deprived of sacrosanct remuneration for abiding expenses yet an atoll upon a continent decisive in its aborning revolution
Ribald wiseacres of a jovial dismay flanged on rectiserial exaggerations of sebastomania is a stranded frigate of a fugitive escapism wandering with nomadic insistence against cosseted blackguard of assertion without plenipotentiary verdicts against the suborned crater of overstated flimsy truculence in sardonic dissolution
In trespass of a reservation of recoiled tender of tutelage proctoring unseemly haggardly refuse to creak into noisome and noisy cacophony armed by centurions of merciless scorn that lackadaisical winter belies the meteoric riches of autumn mainour fungible with the retches of remorseful decay dangling retreat above entreaty for exasperated wednongues lacking curiosity or the backbite of counterfeit engastrimyths seeding an unknowing complicity to fallacy forked over by chiefs and chefs to an amounted dubiety reserves the armaments of glib sedition for inopportune blacklists by a whitewashed Listerine amenable to launder travestime into oversight rather than belabor banal graft upon the agelasts of a toilsome operose labor to trivialize Herculean monuments to creativity as backwater residence of restive plucky percurrent revivals of infamy as a primary thorn rather than a secondary abreaction
Sentinels swift to the expedited squalor intrepid in sclerotic simpers of renowned defalcation bludgeoned by the tridents of harmonized trauma healing the brayed complaint while regaining the quixotic statute of plevisable mobility belongs to the froward counterpunch to the flippant underminnow of savagery yet among noble personage a blip on furloughs rather than a singed diacope perishing in Wasting Light for denuded darkness to supplant the vacated stage of ironic upbringing bartered from a treasury of obsolete wasms of trivial shadows in the amounted lineage of time.
Elected by the purblind fudged cadge of intransigent solidarity behind unhinged proclamations of lewd lunacy the reset of wibble-wabble and conflagrations of trenchant visibility will cloud the cloudiest tempest with hurricane-force devastation by the healing stripes of the piebald idiosyncrasy of gerrymandered defamation failing where insular regeneration outlasts hamartia and blinkered foibles of girouettism to pillory the excess but not transmogrify the whittled progress of seminal generativity unbounded by harped lyres of discord for secret concords of select femicide
With outstretched hands I point to the tapestry of the Heavens as eternal folksy witness that to endear the temperance of time bullishly roaring on the laureates of prolific servitude to the malleable substance of capered argument the enigmatic punctuation outweighs the baragnosis of miscreant opportune glares at personal prospect for aggrieved sockdolagers of redstrall over the filigrees of innate geometry to cackle above the shouted gnash and the dissoluble squirms of blackened cremation of living memories into insipid fracking of sapwood caitiffs flowing on the motion of discredit rather than honor in valuable endeavor for future genuflection
Totems value me as much as they stalk grazed hinderbaggle of cosmetic devolution of ragged popcorn theatrics in the desuetude of normative ethics beneath the carcass of rotten dastardly cowardice brandishing an ulterior discretion beneath the level of the lowest stoop of any breed founded on loyalty verging into flagrant snipers of integrity for the integral unshakable paragon of broad illumination the guidepost for many spectral truths overshadowed by one miserly fool flummoxing with albatross without the overhang  of pluvious integrity shepherding his hauteur in zig-zagged wallops rather than buoyant serenades
Thus entrenched in juicy poignant barricades against virulent spawn of the katzenjammers of squawking femicide I spout the blossom, bequeath the gift, renounce the delusion and form a formidable bastion against depredated valleys blemished from sight by intolerable patches of darkened verdure hiding from commonwealth perception the pearl of ecumenical salvation swimming in the naked tongues of honest profession dancing with conventional demarcated demerits of Rimbaud ramshackle deracination as a humdrum belittled squander of a prop of craven filibuster rather than beavers outsmarting the delignated destruction of habitat because of outright distaste for plucky individuation above the squalor of relativism in minor octaves of gnashed betrayal rigged by hamsters rather than owned by the men trigger-happy with rat race motivation only to the servitude of degrees rather than plausible recovery embedded into the fabric of fickle society
Hidebound tomes fishing for destruction but grappling with the enormity of the plagued pitfall of ceramic skirmish with brittle conscience emerge with epincion rather than sulk in brooded hyperbole of convenient drapes of flocks postulating irrelevance clearly in the light of the truest day frolicking with gigantic swaddles of curated support etching masterpieces of traipse into the frescades of future calenture beyond the petty misestimation of hemitery politics
Thus the weapon serves two masters of row rather than regatta and the besieged rankles the testy predicament to a teased poetry riveted by years of rhapsody rather than moments of tomfoolery emergent victorious rather than dilapidated by what-could-have-been chary brinkmanship on the precipice of modern sacrilege
To instruct the herds of men to hoard and the wisdom of the wise to circulate that apothegm of reclamation owns superlative traction fundamental to whimsical festivity even forsaken on a churlish masquerade outmantled by frenetic activity famigerated by the true Richter Scale of public fanfaronade because justice is truth and only in germane truth beyond germ scares will decrepit scarecrows demolish their Fear Factor even when the gullible squirm for nexility on bounded continents rather than novantique frontiers
Conscription demarches for assembly beyond relegation and celebrity above frays of discordant rumination feasting advenient rather than cherishing internal and integral the virtuoso wrabble of residue generations churning wheels of acceleration rather than quibbling extinguished vitality as principal complaint exercised in negligent abodes of facetious barnacles to outlandish freckles in the majestic pulchritude of a Titanic salvation beyond and considering the curglaff of sunken resources pitted to my registry by slot-machine audiences incognizant of brittle whittled henpecks of adoring truth and perdurable verve
We sink and die by destructive tongues but abide and live by righteous exemplary prowess capable of scraping the towering canvass of the firmament and the retches of the deepest sea inhabited by any curiosity worthy of emolument
So in token liturgy I decry sidelong cursory squandered affronts that drive the Jehus madcap with fractious celerities of formal destitution rampant on flonky menace rather than modern hypertrophy
In The End, we see triumph in every nuance and bristling concord with every perspiration of ennobled effort truckling into serrated selachostomous and fractious bromides of wrecking-ball fashionistas fumigating cultural pederasty with subtle bailiwick but ragged travesties of taxidermy celluloid
Marvel in-between the serenade and grandstand and cull the turnverein of triumph from banished evasive rundles of the outlasted calculus to neuter the estranged and to estrange the atocia of vibrant surreal vibes no stranger to an alien hand in a desolate world.

I see you with your new man
I see how he doesn't ******* right
cuz your walkin right
and not bowl legged
cuz I gave you Swayze roadhouse ****
and hes given you fresh prince
understand I ate that *****
put a finger in your *** and ****
he gets a handy and blows his nut
You know I'm in that ***** the whole night
have you cash in sick days

I’ve got five minutes
Then I must leave my verdant patch
On the skirt of a wind-rustled lake
hidden behind Logan's Roadhouse

Five minutes
to mentally finger with the fetal position
In which I awoke this morning,
there as the sun drew long shadows,

I, a diminutive daub of nautilus,
On a California King,
rippled plane of sand,
Sporadic shivers, beneath a chenille blanket

I, the town crier of dawn as
My own dreams ran screaming through the silence
Pointing a finger at
my sanctuary… “Here is your pearl thief!”

Men in hats, briefcases, heel-toe black clicky and shiny shoes
on leashes lugged,
Yanked by noisy hounds passing by
stop, sniff, snarl-toothed *******…

then one caught my scent,
“Five minutes more sleep,” I implored
"Find another dreaming fleshy mess of bones!"
And leave me to my pearl.

But it’s a universe that simply will not wait
And suffer fools for sleepers,
not a moment more
Yet for my many sleepless minutes after,

Dusk till dawn, and still beyond,
it’s always,
                  five
         minutes
more

alternatively known as: trying to sober up... but keep on drinking.

i remember this time,
when a girl i was ******* slapped me
silly...
    because i assumely lied to her...
about getting a university degree...
and oh, what a pain that slap was,
given the ****** that came after.
throw a ******* penny into the fountain
for the last ten minutes i was trying
to sober-up,
      and yes, i was slapping myself
in the face... over 6ft...
     and weighing over 100 kilograms...
a slap by me... i felt it on my cheek...
i almost lost a tooth...
and i had a case for stating: my neck!
my neck!
         but you know what was
agry. puzzlig, painful?
        it wasn't the memory of being
slapped by a russian girlfriend,
and then her fetish for mirrors,
and how she loved looking at her herself
getting ****** in the mirrors...
oh... what an image to glare into...
            no, but i was slapped on cheek by her...
so today, i was reading the newspaper,
meaning: it was a *sunday...
    i started drinking, and then slapping
myself in the face...
      but that wasn't painful...
    what was? the magazine read the headline:
100 albums you have to hear
before you die...
     in the live rubric:
     stop making sense - talking heads,
mtv unplugged in new york - nirvana,
  1969 the velvet underground - the velvet undergroeund,
live at massey hall 1971 - neil young,
live! - bob marley and the wailers...
  now... slapping yourself in the face
to rememeber an ex-girlfriend is past painful...
it's just itchy...
         it's just an idea of a mosquito...
    you get used to it, like love might be compared to malaria,
you can take a hundred girls slapping
you in the face,
   after which you start slapping yourself
to estimate that 100 girls could slap you and
that you'd still **** them...
  what's painful? the 100 album playlist...
   what the **** happened to tom waits'
  live album         glitter & doom (live)...
which is akin to the doors', roadhouse blues
live...     i really would prefer to slap myself toward
a 1000 times silly... than excuse tom waits' album
not being mentioned in the century of
worthwhile albums...
    come on... live circus?!
          come on!              goin' out west?!
goin' out west live, is as good as the doors'
version of roadhouse blues!
the studio version doesn't match-up to it,
not even half as much!
      sometimes recording music, live,
      propagates the need for a judas...
                    you really need a thief somtimes...
i mean, sometimes the art-work comes with the audience,
rather than "claustrophobic", locked in a recording studio;
it's basically the energy, of the immediacy of feedback.

Custom, tradition, and the twang of steel guitars
Strongly suggest I should embrace my station
As the woman done wrong,
Weeping quietly in some dark corner
At the Come On Inn,
Or, even better yet,
Wailing in a full, tear-stained voice.
Know this; I will not Patsy Cline for you,
Any man or moral of the story,
Nor will I indulge myself
In some country-crossover measure of revenge.
I will march into that bar,
And play that song for whoever on the jukebox,
Dancing without a trace of regret or malice
And I will leave that old roadhouse
In the same manner I will live
The rest of my days here on earth;
Head high, chin forward, shoulders straight
Alone or accompanied
As I—and I alone—see fit.

“The Revenant”(Ghost Song Inspiration)
Awake yearning Asleep
Barnacles of riveted keel ajar with wonder keepsakes to sweep
Traipsing the moonlit path between equidistant insanities
Billowing fumes of rage fulgurant in the vogue modality
Whispering 9 Billion hymns to an immemorial cemetery
Silenced by shattered quakes rumbling in the deep forest
Imagined long ago yet again…
Surfing the few fragile crestfallen waves Tighter Nooses in tsunamis on Portugal in the eleventh month hanging ten
Fragile swoons of kenspeckel verbatim echoed in hallowed halls of evening Diaspora gilded in excellence
Limit is no boundary to the timeless clock of tilted tendencies towards barbed decadence
Revelry is no artifact tethered to a patibulary pole folded in the pokerish sneakthievery of triumphant owl’s night
We laugh like soft mad children waxing the candlelit vigil of barren Beirut struck down with ultrageous fright
Cackling as misfortune trespasses are shot on sight
That The Remedy asphyxiates National Anthem hues
Slippery in the crevasse of caffeinated daydream sues
Toasting butter cretaceous with wonder a lapse of sentience is its ultimate blunder of 1015 Rooz
Because the tottering paragon overlooks his habitable tomb
Bequeathed in Nero’s fright askew for the itching view
Spawned instants of thunderous applause serenade the weaning night littered with dancing fragments of illusion
Time is no object to objective dimples on Helicopter dime
Swank is no subject because the predevoted pause owes all to cadence of currency in the heyday of sublime
Long-winded but curt
Outskirts to every vacant and inhabited skirt suburban to muses crooning with antiquity destitute with forbidden flirt
Livid with indignation over fallen hands outstretched to unheralded bands
Simpering with scalded water of tattered whisper of the nauclatic heralds of sunrise over moonlight land
Effort is no music without tragedian Shakespearean rebuke
Taylor’s stop-and-go with flashlight frisk a Pharaohs’ Zion too much of a Fluke
Greco-Roman travesty blinks with scary flicker in an alpenglow Apollon stained-glass window summit
Dirges always precede precipitate glamour aflame with spectral filibustered blight and plummet
besieged by fallen wonders
Sunken by echoes of consequence in Heavy Metal Thunder
Glimpsing the Revenant of a future tango with backwards sentinels of séance
Grief overtakes the rejuvenated sunlit hike
Hitched by Horses with No Name Painless by harnessed spike
Of a Roadhouse Blues not Red enough for the Scarlet Letter Hues of Bill the Butcher White with Tweed nullifying his diacopes of spite
Cadence peerless paling to mirrored reflection of recapitulated mated soul
Limpid nexility that ghosts flex with reflective Jazzy soul
Jailhouse rocking Malone swerves with jaunt
Easy to dance easier to flaunt
Dastardly darts four score and seven jerseys ago
The seamstress of violence alacrity to sow
Vindication belonging to orphaned asylum 44th
A King lost too soon because of masons coming fourth
Degrees of Solomon rustling through A Biff’s Palace
Jimpster hitman an Akabu of hustled alarm pegged to wild shadows dancing a delicate filigree of spawn and spark
To the plug anointed by tethered Cable Guy treason
Few vigilantes of Batman’s caliber yet to reason
In the Revenant’s wake of fallen timbers of Sunset Strip
Reapers prowl with the tide of Bruno Mars RIP
That he sprawls in survival a hat too generous to tip
Uptown Chelsea in uproar as auditoriums fill with hedged victims of sense and sensibility etched in Gore
Lone Pine Mall stranded by conflagration of bulletproof lore
Clowns dedicate independence while crowns croon ***** repentance
For a forlorn starvation of cities of jackals sailed to sentence
Dripping with a faucet of ghostly haunts
Kapstone Paper in Kansas verging on misery wants  
Yet Bleeding American with French-British hues
The world’s lovelorn starlet yet too swollen to amuse
Stark travesty in fatuous emoluments to Walter White vanity
A current streak unbeaten because of realism in Virtual Insanity
A Joker’s Gamboled revenge skittish in sketchy chalkboards of ossified prestige
Left to the milk carton missing is yet another Abandoned Pools squeeze
The Young Robot scared to Fly-by-Night in the pathway of terminal poignant disease
A punitive prison worthy of the cackles of Dinosaurs besieged by Mr. Freeze
Folksy natatoriums agape with bathhouse squalor
Every hierodule a ******* to the witwanton bottom dollar
For the buggery of a Titanic warning towering ever taller
Stilted Wilts 50 a game warbles without Chinese glowers of Silk Road Silk
An albatross of agrarian hubris is how Ping-Pong Champions were eventually built
Hollywood’s grotto a despairing bravado
Of a masonry skyscraping a surpassed entelechy of a half-known tomorrow
Escape malingering and dare to dream
Listless maneuvers of space a hipster jam of the rollicking heyday of a fortress of a team
That I brandish with pride and retrospective snide
How perjury Underoath is a much better bribe
Air Force pride against Scorched Earth fallow because of a wayward bride
The Spectrum of Casper is galloping in deceitful degrees of a piety too wide
Swayed by Swayze pretended or lazy
The whole world in centration glistens with the fashionable crazy
Electromagnetic Detroit a rumpus for Notorious donnybrooks of a Gretchen cloaked too tight for Avalanche brawls cemented in burgundy and white
Industrial locomotives bulldozing Buffaloes of a Boulder fraternity too leaky to always be right
Scattered on Dawn’s Highway Bleeding crowded by a sing-song peril by design
That deference is reference to rappers glistening in surrealism ripe and prime marveling at the Ace of Military Base’s glaring Sign
Lethal Killers on patrol roaming Earthquake plodded land
Count the number of hairs of vitriol in silicon purebred amicable handfuls of wafting sand
Drifting in Mescaline ends at the periphery of Desert Movies Goldmines for Choosing
The Native American Jabberwocky or Mulder’s Father’s dying musing neither of which is favorable to boozing
The Brown doctor disfavored by armed aristocrats is always alive and rarely unbuttoned when snoozing
Flynn torches bemuse the tattered knight
Presumptuous Arthur is only on the quorum when consentience of accord is proven right by both deed and prescient light
Hardly a sidesplitter for a curveball time
California Love is plastered with rivalries of NorCal grime
Of the greatest Banana Slug Fiction flagrant with Quinntessential clairvoyance of a deceased 60’s crime
A dead queer lollygag belonging to the advice of a Pearl Jam Jeremy’s erasure of snares of beleaguered blasphemous chyme
Nonlinear spurts fielded by stolen bases of paralyzed rebuffs rather curt
A rapper worthy of the stage rarely an actor beyond a churlish vendetta hurt
Yet I dazzle the lingerie of even the most guarded skirt
The kiln of machination is a wedding of guarded betrayals of Monster Mash extortion
Alexisonfire a harbinger to the world’s belabored victory over corrugated striptease contortion
Thursday is a miraculous noise of shattered glass
Inertia knows ventriloquial varnish of shattered bones and tempted blood dripping in crematorium ash
Yet I survive with a Jive walk and a sardonic wagtail flock
Of the best patronage of cognoscenti shockwaves of bonanza stocks stalked like a swarpollock locket invisible to Tik Tok
I’m the best hip-hop in the game beyond the treachery of retreads of psychobabble inane
I strut like magic belonging to the sanitorium of the edgy swank of modest profane
Granite defected is my cement planet infesting the game like Boardwalks on the revived Titanic
Aliens headbash the gamut of my spangled manic
Ghost Ridin’ Raiders of the Lost Arc leads to hysterical panic
Indiana laughs at Elway’s squirrel because he bolted Baltimore with a baseball pretense for a sexier girl
When the rigmarole of genius aligns infamy bails out the oyster aphrodisiac of a Heart of the Ocean pearl
Time is a self-referential quisling of a monarchy built of subtle curling
A bored sport dazzling with scintillation in recursive zeal unfurling
A Canada Dry livid stargazer dozes on Oiler comets meteoric as hydroponics
**** quaffs the lazy lollygag rarely hooked on the righteous phonics
But no distaste to the canine game
I am well beyond the distance to the lethargy of NV in shame
Bear Bryant on Rushmore flowing high
Jetsetting across Pink Floyd’s lurid Clear Blue Skies
George trampled by Chauvinist monsters
Zuckerberg and Gates are honkies betting on bonkers loud both in Boston and in Yonkers
100 Billion of counterfeit souls sold to slot machine mannequins quite droll
Someone needs to devour their corner like a Revelations sour-tasting scroll
Tagged to apothecary mountebanks of Trey’s on repeat
A hard-won small Utah town harder than Joe Montana to beat
Bypassed hack of time Luminosity the adultress of 1693 regaled as a freakish feat
Time simpers to Spirit of Grace graven kantikoys in Seattle Graveyards blemished by dancing Creep
The Idioteque squalor of bemused negligence in a flooded Avatar Jurassic Park Jeep
I recall the St. Joseph’s brawl not with Sevendust Animosity or a squawk on short-sighted grating flag hooped with haywire lines snorted on Basketball
The marstions of plenilune filigree are 32 Leaves of RINOs of crestfallen dirges of cacophony deafened by Yachted Wedding Crashers’ squall
The swagger of a Vogue Rose kissed by Shadow Dancing ******* is livid in throes
Of a throwaway stretchgrave of Jackson’s crooning on astounding Mike Bossy Bose
Engraved with Islander epiphany that smokestack chockablocks itch every more Leary in gawsy clothes
I rampage through the filibusters of Jerusalem silt sunken by immigrants in tired tattered kilt
That the only famine known to McDonald’s is the demolition of Fireman of young Wayne Enterprises yet rigged to insuperable caverns hitched to the hilt
Soul Kitchen alphabets on Dewey Decimal design swagger yet with a Lugubrious Monkey-Silent Bob’s Feared Spinosity in Sprites of commercial Lemon-Lime
Of a dauntless Decision among many subdued by Prison that the apish caper gouges 20/20 Vision a cacophony dimpled in recessive alleles of a modern prime
That is also primacy antecedent to yoked Cartel SUV’s perfected in acerbic dungeons Monster Mash corners yet death unfurled in matchbox tinder of Futurama slime
Jet Lagged infancy of Nuclear Duff hustling the Illmatic Annoyance of BiffCO ***** riddles Uncle RICO wed boschveldt of Kansas City seen 21-30 with zeal and repine
The Bizarre Inc. of a lovelorn 96’ robbed Liberace into untimely death the spinsters of Key Auditorium Dine
Hemlock sprees of Socratic whimpers of treason of Piraeus marks the infamy of Brutus lagging with conscience diseased
That the marvel of vengeance is the plaudits of swanky New York Times rustling against dead Nevada Subways and Lusitania rollicking seas
Rage itches as Brock is capsized to Hearts of Oceans littered with Sparrow Murders of Ravens Batty with Belief
Mourning the Twister carnage of A Shining City on a Hill printed by Federal Way disclosure by Armada Music without a receipt
To the dozen graves of Monster Mash London Fog the Undeveloped Story of a balcony of Wayne Packer Million Dollar degrees
Challenged to a Final Revolution of a Fantasy terrorizing the Trafficked hand a Coca Cola seizure God spared for “Canceled” Taco Bell automotive brain freeze
Spinsters with vertigo paralyze on the hopscotch kettle of popcorn for amusement racketing squashed Colombia too many lines yet to appease
And too gaping Walls of Chauvin weaning on freckles of Comfortably Numb disease that Love Story castle is the monarchy of allusion to 19-17
Coffins for 24k Carat foresight by the antiquated architects
attacked for 2001 vengeance on Forsberg’s Spleen
Notorious by scores of tourists in aperture for Native American Casinos blankets on Red Scare forests
Apple’s chocolate-box sergeant prescience on brittle Reed Chorus
Sung by the litany of Ima memorialized by punctual Grace of the sashay of Delphinium fountain pens porous.

Pack the car

Let’s go on a road trip 

We’ll camp beneath the stars

Every chance we get

Wake to roadhouse breakfast

And a decent cup of coffee

All along the way

From one coast to the other

And when we hit that shoreline

We’ll get a boat

And sail around the world

Docking in every port

Taking in the breath of cultures

We never imagined existed

And try exotic cuisine 

That seemed questionable at the time

But tasted delicious

As it settled in our stomachs

And we’ll know every corner of this Earth

And finally be able to call it our home

And as our wanderlust satisfies

We’ll take off to the skies

Far past the atmosphere

And into an even greater unknown

Divinity of the day, how true and overwhelming
But that’s alright, you’ve given me sight

God, that enthralled
Lush, sunset boulevard torch
A west Hollywood Rimbaud
Scammed and scorched,
running, but still breathing
New age wild west muse

Like midnight’s request for sweetness as music and dreams
A rageling songstress on the longest roadway, sacrificing my best

If I give you all my songs will you feel alright, lush
Take me for all that I am? That much, run with the immense
Learning everything, even how to bless

With my roadhouse sheetmusic
illustrating my life’s inspiration adorned walls, sad ending
I was lost but playing it off, until my racing heart reached
Time future and said, soul, believe what’s in store,
Outrageous dose

Beaming with strange and frightening beauty
From chasing the lights that ascent into the heavens
Dreamy, daring, absurdly hoping, all the real claiming

Lord knows, I’m enamored with the purely copper arrows
Aimed at heights, long and lonely paths for the
Songs of death, of life, wilderness and good times

With my diamond focus
On the garden path of the wise, open, aware
Just walking thru, even confused, you mean
My images of paradise were drawn in diamond too?
Permanent as the myths, legends, poetry?

i was too lazy to become a rock star, i chose to be a poet, and involve myself in a higher dimension of practising a constant Ramadhan, although drinking before having my one meal a day... watch out, a monk off the leash!

man, you know like
when live recordings
work magic
obliterating studio
recordings,
like the doors' *roadhouse blues?
man, that's when it happens
and **** gets real, death aged
27, come the riots and myths,
when studio recordings for a sale
are worth jack-****...
so why are these *******
the un-acknowledged beatles
based upon the decibels of
the screaming female fans?
it was funny watching the spaniard
tourists leaving authentic rolled
blunts on the grave with lipstick
and some green **** also found on
churchill's bald moonshine of a
forehead during an anarchist protest...
that parisian cemetery got to me,
i thought i heard an aeon echo
in oesophagus ripples from bavarian beer halls.

Heard you’ve enticed fortune
All I see is that you’re much too
Engrossed on where to go now
Revelry magnetizing night into day
from your soul, telling me only a queen
could be enthralled by theses things

going absurdly like already history, croon it
going lightening like my record collection, blessed

Hiway right into daylight, wander bold to a million’d direction
Coolness leaning on a bookshelf, precious dawn lingering all around
Everybody awes to you, my ridiculous, strangely pure, strangely pure

The same gilded sun of western dreams
It shines so copper and lone for kinds as us.
Lord grant me ancient desires was on your mind.
How’d I know, well in how you live in bliss
Easily dismiss, with looking up wondering eyes

Halls here are devoted to paradise with richly intricate walls
Much like you, said it’s a journey if you’re aware
Be sagacious, take me real far, match box says welcome to LA
Queen of the roadhouse, windows inviting wild wind
Getting ahead of the dawn, we’ve long since started.

Heard you’ve always liked those
With eyes gleaming wild
Man, they say you’re outrageous
Yeah, beautiful, mysterious – reveling finds you
It’s free and lush music, my direction,
Don’t fear welcome to deathlessness

going absurdly like already history, croon it
going lightening like my record collection, blessed

Hiway into evening, writing verse as if you breathed it
Slickness on a sleek car, precious desert lingering around
Everybody loves you, vulgarly more, strangely pure, strangely pure

The lovely joys from the beginning of time
Sweet song of the blues when sung so soothes
Lord grant me endless endeavors was on your mind
Setting your sleep aside, driving in neon haze, closed eyes
Then you say, get up sunny wondering eyelashes

Glittering like a lagoon, isn’t it – jump in too!
Are you mad, like a wild cobra, pretty but I know you’ve power
I mean, they see you laughing, striking, phrases of genius
Adored with mystery like divine sudden messages
But loving the fun, dreaming of flying near the sun, arrows sent first

Whoever said pain was all in my head
Obviously hasn’t felt any.
It’s hard to look past pain.
Dalton can say pain doesn’t hurt
All he wants on roadhouse
But this is the real world.
Pain reaches out like a bolt of lightening
To remind you it’s there.
I have learned to endure
But it doesn’t make the struggle any easier.
     © 4/15/2013

sometimes capturing the song live
away from the pitch-perfect
engineering can leave the original
"slightly" eclipsed -
indeed i mentioned one example once:
the doors' roadhouse blues -
but there's another...
tom waits' goin' out west from
the glitter & doom album.

The after life part 7



Cronus is having a busy times bringing people back to life and he had 33 year old Brian Buchanan who was a hard worker, he works as a landscaper during the day, helping people get their gardens sorted out and he worked every dinner time at the roadhouse, which is a homeless shelter where he helps out at and after that on Tuesday and Wednesday he does performing arts at the community centre and on Thursday he plays tenpin bowling where he has won many trophies and in summer he volunteered at the cricket and basketball by standing at the gate letting and not letting people in and at winter he does the bbq for the Southport sharks neafl team in Aussie rules where he occasionally gets free footy tickets for Brisbane lions and also works at the masters games where he has met so many great olympians and doing all this made him feel good about himself but he was all burnt out doing all this, he collapsed on the road and passed away and Cronus said, Brian Buchanan what or who do you want to be in your next life and Brian said I want to play little league baseball for whoever they choose for me and I want a family who respects the decisions I make and if you think it is a good idea, I want to bring afl football to Jupiter, I have a team name called the goofy gorillas which is cool enough don’t you think and Cronus said yes that would be good, as long as you don’t burn yourself out
And Brian said no I won’t burn myself out and Cronus sent him to Buddha for a reincarnation talk and then to Athena for a soul check and after that Brian went to Jupiter to work on creating the afl team, the goofy gorillas and after that Cronus had another soul named Harry symes who died by getting hit by a car on his way to work by a drunk driver and Cronus said it was horrible how you passed away, so who or what do you want to be in your next life and Harry said I want to be good enough to be a trainee policemen and I want my spirit to make me a good policeman and Cronus said there is no such thing as a good policeman but I could give you to a family who is ready to learn how to not break the law, so it will be your fault if you make mistakes and Harry said ok, but I don’t want to make mistakes though, I just want to lock away people like the driver that killed me and Cronus said policemen get killed, I hope you know and Harry said yes I know but it is an important job so Cronus sent him to Buddha for a spirit check and then to Athena for a soul check and then Harry went to Saturn to have a methane smoothie before he comes to a world where methane is deadly and then Cronus asked Yvonne Simmons who died on the operating table after collapsing at work, who or what do you want to be in your next life and Yvonne said Just send me anywhere, I want to play sport and do concerts at school and outside school and do a few other cool stuff, please I want to be normal and not stupid and Cronus said you ain’t stupid you could do anything you want to do, and I could see you are a live in the moment kind of person so just relax as I send you to Buddha to talk about the best parents for you and then a soul check with Athena and after that Yvonne went to mercury to meet her deceased boyfriend and they had a good conversation about future lives and Yvonne went back to Buddha to ask if she could be in the same family as her boyfriends next life and Buddha said fine but you might have to just be a cousin and Yvonne said that is fine with me, thanks and Cronus sent her to be her boyfriends cousin and in 9 months she will be back to earth

Tell me I've the music to match a torched soul
Eyes like California mines dripping in gold
I've got that northern soul and those french blues
And you're my new age, wild western muse
Together we're nearing those iconic fires
American paradise, novel sunshine, write me my desires
Neon soaked, West Hollywood Rimbaud
With roadhouse sheetmusic and nowhere to go
The same gilded sun of western dreams
It shines so lone for kinds as us
Wandering eyes hypnotized by that cosmic, copper lust
Revelry scorching night into day
Magnetic soul, queen of the coast, blue highway  
Setting your sleep aside,
Driving with those wild mercurial eyes

Willie’s Corner

  Everywhere I go I just try to be me
I don’t think about clientele
As far as I’m concerned if they don’t
Like it they can all go to Hell

So even at fifty seven I wear my KISS
Shirts and Paul Stanley designer shoes
I sing KISS songs out loud like Black
Diamond and Nothin To Lose

I don’t care if I am going to Church or a
Restaurant with a rating of five stars
I am who I am, it ain’t gonna change even
When people stare at me as if I’m from Mars

I don’t try to be someone I’m not
Rarely do I wear a suit and a tie
Like when I have to go to a funeral home
Because someone I love happened to die

Most of the time I don’t  even notice
Them looking at me for I am immune
Because until the day I die, I will
Dance to my own rhythm and tune

But there are times when I feel a little
Out of place and resigned
When over the speakers I hear
You were always on my mind

And I must say it was strange
And I was feeling somewhat like a foreigner
At Texas Roadhouse and I Was surrounded by Cowboys and sitting in Willie’s Corner

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright © 03/09/2020
All rights reserved
We went to a Texas Roadhouse Restaurant
I was wearing a KISS shirt and my
KISS necklace and my KISS jacket
My Puma shoes designed by
Paul Stanley and there was some
People in there with Cowboy hats
And boots and the waitress took us
To a booth back in the corner with Willie
Nelson stuff all over both walls and a
Little sign said Willie’s corner.
We no sooner than we sat down and I
Hear Willie’s big hit song begin to play
You were always on my mind. Too funny!!!

i haven't washed my hair for three days..

it isn't like me..

you've hated me for three months..

it isn't like you..

is this the new normal..the way i'm supposed to live..

live with all of the what if's and possibilities and how things could have gone differently..

i'm leaving soon and i will try to tell you..but you will say you "can't talk"..

i will be gone and will you be sad?..

will you remember my kindness..my mess..the beautiful parts of me as well as the ugly, deep, and dark...the way i was always so excited but too shy to show it sometimes...the way i was so sensitive and didn't know that that was my biggest strength...the way i was so protective over you because i never wanted to lose what we had..

the way you would make everyone laugh to distract them from noticing how hurt you really were...did anyone else see you the way i saw you?...the way you'd sigh, never knowing i could hear them...the way you'd walk to your car with your hands in your pockets, eyes never straying away from the sidewalk...lost in your spiraling messy mind-spaghetti-thoughts...the way you shivered when you told me you weren't cold just so you could be there for me when i needed you...the way you carried me to the car...i should have held you tighter...longer...pressed your lips against mine and told you how i really felt about you...maybe you would still be here if i had...

the way we would look at each other from across the room and know exactly what the other was feeling without a single word needing to be said...the way we'd pause between kisses..lips slightly parted..you were my oxygen..

will you feel the hole in your chest the way i will?..

will you feel my absence?..

will you see me when you look at the peach and periwinkle clouds..

will you see me when you see those tiny white flowers on the side of the road..

will you see me when you see white cars passing by on the road while you drive home after long exhausting work days..

will you see me when you hear "Slow Dance In A Parking Lot" playing in the background while you eat with your friends at Texas Roadhouse..

will you see me?..

will you see me the way i will see you..

will you?

will you . . .

Out of the old myth
A seed spit in a melon
Contest while all the good
Kids mostly still (and some of the bad)
Believe in Jesus
Yet I imagine
The afterlife
As this bar my sister-in-law
Trolls, a good roadhouse once,
South of the state line,
Until the vote lifted
Prohibition and it moved
Into town and the Keno
Afternoon and cigarets
Until the vote
Against tobacco
& now the furtive hits
Off the newly legal dope vapes
From the neighbor state,
Slowly losing retirement funds
And the food--
It's not what it used to be.