No town homes in my hometown
We throw up and we throw down
Drinks pour up, tears pour down
No outlet in this port town

Glass crumbs and shards
elephant-skinned sidewalks smeared with tomato paste
the streets remember
potato-tipped death machines
starchy falsetto bullets
the cracking
window
skull
smushy hamburger meat brain
meet bullet—meet steering wheel—meet
                                ster
e
                     ­                                                 o

my little brother stays in a shelter
on American and California
where babies
sit themselves
change
is a dollar short
and DST
stands for daylight shootings time

Grandfather time
please stroke your shredded wheat goatee just a little longer
postpone apocalyptic
soon the children will hop skotch on chalked body silhouettes
and jumprope with bungie cord intestines

But not him
my little commando
he will find a way out
depart from home plate
three strikes carved on a flaming chariot
soaring through the sky like barbasol jet streams
the great
                                                           ­          escape

Viking's got it virtual, spinning and he's cynical
masking masquerade of every beaten broken lateral.
open-bottled bears look like little tiny hairs due to massive
sorts of stacking and a corp worth dollar shares.
Now i'm sitting in a skull or two, a brain that can't pick what to do
An empty, and gated, abandoned hop skotch for dancin' or truth.
signs of life negative, I don't think we can hold the shiv
but i will pay a nickel if you ask me where the mattress is.

Stop
And don't think you left 4 eyes blocked fully.
i'm lookin for the glasses that won't make me look silly.
got a hidden sort of stash, the kind of cash is always relevant.
got industries in disaster with a passion for the magnificent.
now every ****** actor has some kind of immune innocense.
now what the **** has happened to utilizing more than common sense?
I guess we just forgot what time armageddon really is
so allow me to introduce the second hand to you ******* kids.

Please return your seats to an upright release.
(Down-trodden echoes from moon-base police.)
Don't take a number unless you can be seen.
(mathematic addict he took a train for free.)


Ohhh--- my-good-god-*******,
**** it's a nice way to live outside.
free patties made fresh from the earth, 8 to 5.
but he's too **** busy not thinkin' survive.
we can rebuild him.
Undercut the normal cost of generations you are stuck with,
throw it all in paper bags and call it a sickness.
teacher made me sit outside away from all the other kids,
attentiveness is measured by an inconsistent dosage list.
Awareness is a trait
and being blind is a disorder
sight beyond sight is something to be ignored or,
better yet we need a ******* sight beyond the seen sight,
or maybe just a cigarette to keep my mattress fire bright.

Go
Green lights spit on the pavement- pea soup food fight kids entertainment.
rock show, dog fight, all just the same ****.
money riding visual stimulation and a shaking rib.
ha- ha- ha
hear me chuckle like a charlie got his X-ray goggles put on little bit sideways.
crack the better pavement so no one has good roadways.
now our infastructure needs improvements going both ways.


Please return your seats to an upright release.
(Down-trodden echoes from moon-base police.)
Don't take a number unless you can be seen.
(mathematic addict he took a train for free.)

when i close my eyes, i still see light
a spectrum against my eyelids
hands outstretched
knowing its close
another uneasy step
victorious
hop-skotch dodging
trusting strangers is dangerous but sometimes neccessary
endless paces of paranoia
1 man snowball fights
repairing broken connections
realizing yet again, life can get much worse
snow on halloween?
fingerpainting and worksheets on feelings...where am i?
strategy is all i got in here
its easy when all you got is a basic blueprint

i swear to god they put chocolate samplings into
this distillation,
                          maybe it's the pepsi?
                  i very much doubt it,
      but the ******* who distill the famous grouse
are really adding something to the skotch...
      i'm seriously getting hints of chocolate on
the tip of my tongue...
                                         now... i've read newspaper
articles citing wine-tasting sessions...
         mmm: full bodied...
                       mmm popsicle rose!
                                             mmm dry candy white!
whiskey tasting? a whiskey palette?
                                   you down one and you're like:
smoked salmon! all of them!
                                          but what about the tokai?
or the grouse for that matter?
                    you ever get into the chocolate in
the famous grouse?        there's a hint of chocolate
          in that liquid amber.
drink enough as i have... and you'll be saying:
                    bourbon... mmm... **** juices.... brothel!
and are we going there? yes! we are!
     this puerto rican whale of a woman just beached
and we're going to "poke" her, to see if she's still alive.
**** me though...
   who tickles the palette with a dash of chocolate
in a whiskey, such as is the case with the famous grouse?
and apart from that... i'd love to read a newspaper
where there are whiskey critiques... rather than
some ponce / **** of a man oozing ridicule
sniffing up a glass of... chardonnay: ooh, look at ya'h
                       bossy? bozy? *****?      ****** choose!
  i don't have enough hours in my day to think about
what sort of **** you are!

Sandstone

Gypsum spawns
From lackluster tongues
into my *****; a cure
Alabaster brandy
poured by a sailor
all of it crumbled to ruin

Strained synapses
Dusty skotch glasses
tears that shower my brain

now plastic is cheaper
the mold will meld
by man
Sandstone
the best of Nature's touch