(I)

Whose coat is this? Sure as hell isn't my coat. I ain't got no coat with this parka ****, it's *******. I ain't no furry flamin' ******. I ain't no ****** chochy Molly-May-Ze-**** chokin' down chickens and nasalin' a'sniffin' snortin' nasty-*** choch; that ain't me. That ain't me. Look at this coat– I'm like an Eskimo *****. I'm like a butch-**** bull-**** crotch-lappin' a'swimmin' laps in that guy's swimmin' pool. Who's that guy? Who owns that guy? 'Ey, anyone here the owner of this guy– guy ain't got no owner? Whose coat is this? It's nice, real nice. Bet she said, "Does it come from France? Where do I buy one?" I want to buy one, I think I need to buy **** more. I sure as hell need to buy one of these. "And I need one these too and one of them too and I need a petticoat and a tipper-tapper and a whimpratic garfielder and one of them new bartlemores, I need more of them bartlemores. I need more, more, more, more, more, more..." That ain't enough. ****'s from France. ****'s from Paris, that's romantic. You think I'm romantic? I eat hearts for dinner, I chew down nails like nuts for my midnight snack. I smoke cigarettes and spit on concrete slabs, you think that's ****? I'll show you ****. I'll show you Paris, New York City, Rome, romance you in Rome. I'll get real ******' Roman. I'll take you to the desert and make love to you. That's how a free man does a woman, and I'm a real free man. Who's ownin' this guy? It ain't you, it ain't me. I don't own you, you don't own me. I'm a free man:

I said,
"Fire and wood, fire and wood, fire and wood. It is late, it is late, it is far, far too late."

I set
fire to wood, fire to wood; feel that fire fired fresh from that firewood.

I dug the pit,
he gathered the wood,
she started the fire.

She really does make that fire start.

O' how she makes that fire burn,
O' how the wood's wrapped in white hots,
O' how they smoke their smokestacked pipes,
O' tobacco teeming teenagers, tormented by and through youth,
O' adolescence, trending topics, and forget-me-not flowers,
O' old age, Floridan coffins, and coughing  cancers,
O' writers in the mountains writing to be,
O' painters and **** bodies in studies by the sea,
O' thinkers in their mindset, mindsetting the table for dinner,
O' tables set to bursting,
O' wallets so thick,
O' community,
O' society, our social games,
O' hope,
O' peace,
O' that I may be at peace,
O' that I may be content and pray only for peace,
O' how about them true believers,
O' how about that love at first sight,
O' sandstone. My sandstone. That guy sittin' on sandstone.

That's my guy. That's my guy. I own this ****.

Is a man breathing on a mirror the sum of his breaths?
Breaths foggin' a'mistin' my view,
my view of a body and that face,
you're a body.
You're a workin' day's bell,
you're my chill in an Icelandic draft,
you're my spare in a Middle Eastern draft,
you're my pawn in chest-to-chest chess.

You've got this. You've got this. You own this ****.

And it is ****, too. I'd be set, real ******' set, with someone like you. I'll make you a woman, check this parka ****. Coat's mine. I'm a classy igloo runner, runnin' a'ragin' a'czebelskiin' meriteratin', I'll be reiteratin' your points. Check the time, it's late! It's late! ***** was in the grassy knoll turnin' trap tunes on her turntable. Would you listen to that? She sounds late to me, does she sound late to you? I like the music; I like the music. What happened to Woodstock? Where's my watergate, Nixon? Where's my generation, Ginsberg? Where's the meaning? This music's too loud! We're so profound! O' profundity!

Tell me something I didn't know, I'm craving' the new.
Give me the new while I spit on the old,
while I spit on this fine art finely art'd by and for fine artists–
******' fine artists. ******* fine artists.

(You can realize radical-realist realism but you can't be real with me?)

O' fine art!
What fine art!
Which fine artists are dead?



(II)

Looks like they're dead.

Looks like them ******* choked out all them ghettos, choked out all them rednecks, chokin' a'stranglin' by-God-oh-God straddlin' the breeders. I sure did like them babes– babes with their laughin' a'lackin' o' cynicism. They don't know the word "****."

I sure am forgetful–
I forgot that smoke doesn't dissipate,
I forgot how to smell autumn leaves,
I forgot to check the heart against the fingertips,
I forgot why my fingertips went numb,
I forgot to cue in the meaning when the sentence was complete,
I forget to complete my sentences,
I forget who you were wanting when you said, "I want you."

I got as much depth as an in-depth discussion, high hats and electropercussion have got me going. I'm goin' downtown, uptown bourgeois tricked me out, johns and yellow Hummers laid me down and cussed me out. That's not a discussion. That's not my scent scenting my towel, this breath reeks of wintry air– my fingertips went numb.

"I want you."

"Oh would you look at that moon?
Take a look at that moon.
Look at that moon with the ******' mountains.
I love that moon.
That's my moon."

I love darin' a'dusty dareelin' derailin' your dreams, whose dreams are these? They ain't my dreams– ain't no dream derailin' a'nileerad radiatiatin' some hint of joy or Jamison Scotch Liqueur. Drink that ****. That's my ****, I own that ****.
I'm sittin' on this stoop like I own this ****, like this **** owns me; I owed me. I don't own me, you owe me:

Pay up man, feet off the stoop.
Pay up man, be real with me.
Pay up man, you ever thought of a man as a man?
Pay up man, give it in.
Pay up man, give in.
Pay up man, I need you to do me a solid. Do me solid from crown-to-toe, we're toe-to-toe let's do-si-do bro-to-** I'm ready go, **, jo, ko, lo, get low… Now I'm ramblin'. You say, "Ramble in to the stoop and tell me a story."

What's a stoop– who's a stoop? That **** ain't stoop– you ain't stoop. You're stupid. You're a joke, check out the joke. Hey ladies, you seen this joke– joke ain't been seen by them ladies? I'm a joke. We ain't laughin' with you, they're laughin' at you.

O' hilarity!
Such hilarity!
What hilarious histories have passed?



(III)*

"I said I loved him once. I only loved him once."
(And how long once has been...)

I sure did like them hand-holdins,
them star-gazin' moments,
them moon phasin' nighttime nuances,
them fingertip feelin' a'findin',
them sessions o'meshin' limber legs unto steadfast *****,
heads cocked like guns toward the sky,
beyond the horizon
but well
below the belt.

Them star-gazing moments seeing stars seemin' small, I love how they gleam- gleamin' a'glarin' comparin' shine to shine, shimmerin' a glimmer shone stumblin' her way home from the bar. She's drunk. She's brilliant, brilliance of whit and wantin' a'wanderlustin' gypsy nomads- that ***** gyp'd me, no mad man would take a cerebral slam to the face lest them moving pictures are involved. Read a ******' book, it'll last longer. Kiss me on the collar bones, clavicles shone shining with slick saliva pining for my affections. You're clammerin' to feel me, clammin' up (Just feel me.) I want to run my hands through long hair and peg the nausea nervosa to the wall. The writing's on the wall:

The sun bent over so the moon could rise, chanting,
"Goodbye and good riddance,
I never wanted to shine down
on them seas o' tranquilities anyhow."*

O' what a day. What a day.

And the wind ruffles leaves and it ruffles feathers on birds eating worms in brown soil.

What a day. What a day.

And the men under the bridge gather in traitorous conversation of governments overthrown and border dissolution and poetry with meters bent out of tune.

What a day. What a day.

And the billboards are dry for all the consumers to consume, use, and review.

What a day. What a day.

And hearts break messiest when you're not looking.

What a day. What a day.

And the ego and the id and the redwood trees are talking. They're sitting **** in the marshes, bathing in the bogwater while fondling foreign fine wines and whisperin' a'veerin' conversations towards topics kept well out of hand, out of the game, nontobe racin' in races, rampant radical racists betting bets on bent, bald Bolshevik racists wagging Marxist manifestos in the bourgeois' faces, yes. Make it be. Nontobe sanity as the captain creases his pleats, pleasin' her creases and the dewdrops of sweat trailing down the small of her back– down the ridge of her spine forming solitary springs of saline saltwater in the small of her back. Aye-aye, guy's pleasin' a'makin' choices a'steerin'– government's a'veerin' a hard left into the ice.

'Berg! 'Berg!
Danger in the icy 'berg!
None too soon a 'berg!
Bound to bump a 'berg!
O' inevitably unnerving 'berg!
Authoritative 'berg!
Totalitarian 'berg!
Surveillance of *** and the sexes 'berg!
O' fatalist fetishist 'berg!
Benevolent big brother 'berg!
Homosocial socialization 'berg!
Romanticized Roman 'berg!
O' virginal mother 'berg!
City on a hill on a 'berg!
Subtly socialist 'berg!
Nongovernmental 'berg!
O' illustrious libertine 'berg!
Freedom of the people 'berg!
Water privatization 'berg!
Alcohol idolization 'berg!
O' corrupt and courageous 'berg!
Church and a stately 'berg!
Pray to your ceiling fan 'berg!
Biblically borne 'berg!
O' godly and gorgeous 'berg!
Ferocious freedom fighters launching lackluster demonstrations far too post-demonstration feeling liberty and love, la vie en rouge, revolving revolutionist ranting on revolution tangible as
an ice cold 'berg.

'Berg! 'Berg!
O' the 'berg, the ****** iceberg–
You'll be the death of me.

kidz are smoking my songs, drinkin' and sniffin'
welcome to the trip-inn, where magic is grippin'
the tragic city, neon lights, neon lights, demon's nights
i'm all in, never ever falling, swirling frisky, like a frisbee

45 to 88, made myself a shake
beat like an earthquake, first take
crying for a remake, dying for a remake
1000 tons of cheesecake, beafsteakz

yummy yummy, my past was slummy
so, you find tizzop where the ice is
my lifestyle is priceless, priceless
i don't care, nobody is viceless

how could one dare to imitate this flair?
i don't say words, i shout "yeah yeah!"
ipod-white teeth, you stop to breathe
and now be good, baby, get on ya knees

She don't like her eggs all runny
she thinks crossin' her legs is funny
she looks down her nose at money
She gets it on like the Easter bunny
she's my baby
I'm her honey
Never Gonna Let Her Go

He ain't got laid in a
Month of Sundays
I caught him once
and he was sniffin' my ******
he ain't too sharp but he gets things done drinks beer like it's oxygen
and he's my baby
I'm his honey
Never gonna let him go

In Spite of Ourselves
we'll end up sitting on a rainbow
Against All Odds
honey were the big door prize
We're going to spite our noses
right off of our faces
there won't be nothin'
but a big ol'  Hearts
dancin' in our eyes

she thinks all my jokes are corny
convict movies make her *****
she likes ketchup with her scrambled eggs swears like a sailor when
she shaves her legs
she takes a lickin'
she keeps on tickin'
I'm never going to let her go

He's got more ***** than
A Big Brass Monkey
he's a whacked-out ******
and a love bug ******
Sly as a fox
crazy as a loon
when payday comes
he's howlin' at the moon
he is my baby
and I don't mean maybe
I'm never going to let him go

In Spite of Ourselves
we'll end up sittin' on a rainbow
Against All Odds
honey were the big door prize
we're going to spite our noses
right off of our faces
there won't be nothing
but big ol' Hearts
dancin' in our eyes

In Spite of Ourselves

Written by John Prime
Cherie Nolan- A favorite wedding tune

Killers Concept by Jay Byrne and Mr.Sandman
Clear text= Jay Byrne slanted =Mr Sandman
_

Effective, efficient killer. Subjectively no-one iller.
Go check on the web. It's near ya. I'm watchin' all the time.
Instinctively people fear. Steadily drawing near.
Surreptitious and vicious. Come in my parlour. It's fine.
Got a vast network, in the middle I stand.
Check your pheremone signature. The tremor in the sand.
Night vision. Incisions with terrifying precision.
But notwithstanding derision. My kin is older than man.
In the shadows of your mind you'll find me there waitin'.
Behind my cold eyes resides a saints patience.
While you work I lurk in recesses dark.
Park your car, I'm there. (Where ?) Right there in the back.
Then I invade your home for my own selfish game.
I'm not to blame. Nature made me this way.
Killer born. Deal death everyday.
Ask your children who they fear. Hear them whisper my name.


Cos' I'm a killer. Steal life as a matter of fact.
A killer. No knife, sail a different tack.
Cos' I'm a killer. One calling but I do it so well.
I'm the fell one, run from the funeral bell.


you may **** when I attack,but I attack you in waves,
Stalin to ****** all pale,I've filled BILLIONS of graves,
may not look it but stuck it I put it right in your veins,
start to cough?,losing weight,in 3 weeks your remains,
are buried deep,your kin weep,while the wolf among sheep,
floats in a stagnant pond sniffin' for the time to release,
cause I can taste your breath,then visit bringing you death,
and all you think is "what a nuisance",get the paper and smack!,
you're too late,you met fate and didn't know you've been killed,
a little while and you'll be sufferin the fever and chills,
your blood boils with my my gifts,I deliver with style,
number one cause of death from Amazon to the Nile,
so while you think you top the food chain, feelin' smug,
I'm the flying Vampire who kills while suckin' your blood,
I'll take you back to the mud,as I have always done,
not a buzzin' noisy nuisance-I'm Killer number one

A cold killer. Steal life as a matter of fact,
yeah,A killer. No knife, sail a different tack,
A real Killer,One calling but I do it so well.
I'm the fell one,run from the funeral bell

I see you step closer.You don't see me.
My reptilian form, waterborne, glides effortlessly.
Cautiously you approach the lake.
No wake trails me. You're mine to take.

I made a **** and I fed well,it's time to drink,
orange and black striped terrible beauty slinks,
down to the water sniffing cautiously,but no fear,
cause I'm the Apex Killer"sniff"no enemy near ...

Black eyes peer. Movin' closer still.
No crocodile tears here, I'm movin' in for the ****.,

I chill-freeze hackles up,blend into the trees,
circlin the waterhole,was that a scent on the breeze?

Pretty please, pretty pussycat, pad this way.
Tread light. Now I strike all teeth and spray.

ancient enemy comes,fill my lungs,
roar and lunge,take the plunge,now who's gonna be lunch?

*Cause we're Killers,steal life as a matter of fact,
natural Killers no knife sail a different tack,
the feared Killers,one calling but we do it so well,
we're the fell ones,run from the funeral bell!

this ain't no art, man,
this is just a careless whisper
this is just George Michael
singing in your stereo
this is just your bourgeois-blues
this is merely a bewilderment
this is not the art, you know it,
you ******
you ****
you chronic masturbator
you who dare to write on the internet
dancing with yo papa' shoes
and in yo mama' lingerie
ah, look at yourself, a human miracle
Angel of a foreign Harlem,
you who wasted all away,
speaking in foreign tongues
inside the thighs of a british stripper,
you idiot
you *****.

and when i'm done i'll come for you,
like a ****
like a dog
sniffin' and slidin' in your park
in your ***** trailer park
there with your fat-****-husband
stalkin' yo every move
you *****
you ****
and when i'm done i'll look for you,
simple as that
simple as an Einstein formula
served to you on exotic dishes
by Norma from Twin Peaks,
cars for the missus and furs for the mistress
and when you'll die you'll ****
between all your champagne wishes
and it'll be ******* ridiculous.

But that's life, babe.
Get down on thursday,
drains you in May.
You *****.

so be-my-babe
i say be-my-babe
in black and white
like the Ramones
or the Ronettes or
the Rolling Stone
- i still want to know
how your insides look like,
- i still want to save
your capitalist nature
in my mother's fridge,
- i still want to fly
high on a jet plane with you,
alone,
with or without needs,
crashing on our bridge.

I love you-
love me!

I put my gun in your hands.
I push it. I shovel it.
My bones are broken
bound by all the words
i never dared to say
- and here, my love, right here,
i put IT in my mouth,
i feel the cold steel in my tongue,
-- how much blood from
such a tiny hole, Lizaveta!--
and this, and so much more.

but please, i say please,
would you feed me?
would you need me?
i'm a little angel drowning in candies
who's eating his heart out and ******* his candy
ah, would you say this? Would you?
Just because it ain't cool?


Well if i'm not cool i'll drive my kite all night
and take my lunchbox and
shoot Panama down and
shoot Mexico down and
shoot a *** smoker down
and shoot a crack dealer down
and shoot a beer dealer down and
shoot Mexico down
shoot Osaka down
Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!
Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!
my love will gun down all your school
Look at me - i say, look at me!
Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!
Kabrula kaysay Brula Amal
amala senda Kumahn Brendhaa!
and don't you forget to say my name,
as i'll

****

YOUR

SKULL

I snort poetry
Just give me a rhyme
I'll breathe it in deep
Like a******* line
I love words
Poetry and prose
I'll snort 'em right up
Like I'm sniffin a rose
They give me a buzz
Get me high
Give me wings
And then I fly
Way more addictive
Than any drug I've tried
Write me a poem
I'll read it and get fried

Yo wait a minute... who's on who's ****?
The vibe's only gay cause you introduced it,
You're an *******, you only produce ****,
The stupid kid in school that's sniffin' them glue sticks,
I'm the bully, so gimme your ****** money nerd,
I've beaten twenty-two kids up! You can be the twenty-third!
"Yo your **** is wack!" Says every rapper ever,
but not with this guy! I'm just too too clever!
You may think "But you just said it idiot!"
And I'll reply: Be a little considerate.
It was just an example, and you were the recipient!
You aren't even rapping anyway, you're not a participant.
I'm sitting here rappin and I ain't hear a ****** word.
Did I shut your *** up? Am I a ******* wizard?
Abra-Kadabra? Abra-Whatty?
Here's the full spectrum, to a tolerable degree:
Deaf, dumb, blind, black,
in other words, anxiety attack!
All that **** would **** man
no secret plan, cave man?
You can't take over or turn these tides
I'm the tidal wave *****, when I crash you hide!
But I guess it's time to say goodbye
so here are some farewell rules that you need to abide by:
Turn a blind eye, wear a snappier tie
and don't treasure hunt ****, give it a try.

Sniffin’ my cologne
Hair full of da gel
In like Flynn tonight
For my homies aren’t that bad
Their just a little ******* mad
Playing with sharp knives, oh no
What’s making ya bleed
What’s making ya bleed
They'll be floating through later
Maybe laying down, little white lines
I be a chillin’, by about half past nine
I’ll be a jiggin’ sum ******* da sofa recline
Yeah, your ever so kind and real kinda dope
What’s making ya bleed
What’s making ya bleed
What’s making ya bleed
What’s making ya bleed
Maybe it’s from da *****, that don’t know any better
Why no one tell him, she was my date
She done dead now, for **** sake
Thoughts about what we do and where to take
Like how now is she gunna be undiscovered
Authorities and her family, smell a whiff of her on my coat
Like sum dead wraparound ******* fox
So now I’m on the Popo’s radar
Everything I do now, even taking my mama to church
Hope she prayed extra hard
I need to teach those *****’s, who to cut and who to trust
Like I'm a god forsaken ******* preacher
I lost da last girl
I feel ****** and torn
What’s making ya bleed
What’s making ya bleed
Not again...

we made our society so menial,
a citation about a city being eternal;
we made our menial tasks into
doubly menial that
due to this doubling of menial
activity we spawned an endless
populace of artistry to equilibrate
the lost mechanisation -
i can understand physical and menial,
but i just can't seem to understand
mental and menial...
hence this exponential tsunami
of everyone becoming artistic;
**** sakes! artists everywhere!
the great punching bag has come to nurture
more than was intended as edible...
menial cognitive tasks missing
menial physicality will make
anyone into an artist -
chow chow mein did a restoration
project for pedestrians in an art gallery
with porcelain pistachios...
guess what... crushed ivory
extracted a green stink of chlorine,
and then as Dori said: just keep sniffin',
just keep sniffin'... pooh yah!

Can I be honest witchu 'ere?

I don't trust ya boy, Jakoby. He's been sniffin' around places that don't need no sniffin'. Roy's been tellin' me he's been doing the same thing there too. Coincidence? I think not, my friend. I'm just doing youse a favor and relaying this concern of mines. Did you know he slept with Tom's sister? The one with the wheelchair and weird teeth? I don't think she can even see straight. Her eyes are all cross eyed. I also heard he put his dilly in Holly, Greg's old cousin that's been livin' with his family for years. And she's not right in the head either. He's got something for them 'tards. Maybe his parents aint raised him right. They's was never around for him, poor guy.

Ditch the punk if you know what's good for ya. I'd hate to see something happen to your girl, or, you know, you.

Just sayin' is all.*

- ****

It aint hard to tell
I excite those who dwell
In my presence my foes be hesitant
Deliberating debating and hating
Welcome in the sons of satan
Watch my gun get blatant
Belligerent despairing the hearts of
The innocent
Most people dont follow rules
I refuse to be a mule  
**** youtube rules and the punk
*** trollers move over
There a new sheriff in town
Shot the da va and deputy
Now whos wearin' the crowns ?
King of the original jew whoever knew
I would be born inside of a jail cell
Made from hell learned the best from sniffin' yeyo
My pang couldnt even hold on whale scales
Take short of the  L then inhale
Turn spectators skins pale
When the reporters try to yell
But cant escape deaths bail
It aint hard to tell



Know i got haters
Following me like Jesus
I resurrected hip hop
Im Lazarus disastrous  
My crew wrecks only
In guns we trust til our barrels rust
Wipe out the must
Got keep a clean mind when i grind
Looking for the ultimate sunshine
Middle fingers to one time
The narcs hidin' the parks
Im lightin' em up like John Starks
My mid range is wicked past sadistic
Just being realistic
So if ya wanna be a statistic
I advise ya remain un Belligerent
Broke the mental shackles
When life started to tackle
I got curious as a jackal
Laughin' at my enemies all the way to the bank
Mis the feds foes to hoes
And pop open the drank blaze the pounds
While ill count my franks
That means my money banks
Ill leave ya mind stiff as a plank
When i drop these lyrical bombshells
Yo it aint hard to tell


"As the days go by,
little by little the memory of you fades.
Still every now and then,
I can see your reflection in razor blades.
I can read your lies in between
the lines I'm sniffin.
I didn't lose you,
because I never actually even had you.
I don't miss you,
because you can't miss what isn't real.
Who I lost is me,
so myself is who I'm missing.
You ripped my heart out of my chest
and you destroyed it,
but somehow I'm still here living.
Although can this really even be considered "living" ?..
I feel dead inside.
I'm not alive.
I'm simply just existing.."

Couldn't count my desires
Gotta let the lotto winner's
Roll 'em up and smoke the sinners

Sniffin' bliss, and rollin' spliffs
Criss cross your boney fingers cuss'
Christ's forgiveness can't cross rivers

Stakes and stones and broken homes
Crack the window, Daddy's cookin'
Dinner for your "step-sisters" nose

Drowning in euphoria
Bleached blonde concoction of toxic
Environmental pollution

A hundred bucks buys a smile
At least for a little while you
Don't have to feel the world dying

Let me start by swearin my attraction to an occasional dusty ol juke joint was no cliche preachers daughter rebellion.    
A good American girl, loved my Daddy, Jesus,  and both their good names.      
But the appeal and anononimoty of the sin and frolic rockin 'n rollin out those doors! Too much.      
Was just the temptation to do me in.      
At least i had respect enough to scratch that itch three counties away.      
I had needs to be met.      
      
And ****** those needs.      
**** the need for the whine and moan from the likes of Hank Williams and Patsty Cline.      
Double ****** the need for the warm thrill and taste of gin.      
And triple ****** the need for a spin with a good ol country boy gone ornery!      
      
Pardon, a necessary preface to my hot and bothered at him walkin in the door of my good Daddy's store.      
And now i go on to the gritty of the nitty..      
      
It started a dull thing of a day, was doin payroll, startled by the chimes announcing someone comin in.      
      
I recognised him immediately from my last carouse about.      
A deep blush risin and sweatin the thought of my cover blown, i tried very hard not to stare.      
But good God he was ****, all blue jeans and swagger, he strode right up with a wicked **** eatin grin.      
      
"Hey baby i remember that shakin!"      
He says.      
Prayin my resolve would cover the weak in my knees i answered, "I'm sure you dont!" fightin hard the smile curling up the sides of my mouth.      
He laughs "Yeah, what time you want me to pick you up?"      
"Are you kidding!? Not on your life." I heard myself sayin, unconvinced.      
The white hot flash in his devastating blue eyes nearly melted my ice *****.      
Then he turned around laughin said "Alrighty ***, i can read the hours on the door."      
      
The rest of the day went by in a haze of tryin to focus vs. the tickle between my legs every time i thought of him.      
      
Finally it turned time to close, hatin how scared i was at the thought of him not bein outside in that parking lot.      
      
But of course there he was. Lookin so cool 'n tough. Leanin up against his rusty red pick-up truck.      
Said "cool baby, hop on in."      
      
Wasn't much talkin on the long bumpy ride to his place. Dirt roads can seem endless.      
That one sure as hell did.      
      
There was certainly no ceremony upon arrival, just a "Baby hop on out."      
He was off, no help with my door.      
      
Greeted by the blackest dog you ever saw, sniffin at my crotch and nippin at my skirt. Guess like dog like owner. I was seriously doubting my judgement at this point.      
      
The insides of his trailer left no stereotype untouched, of your corn fed Ozark's man.      
Prise fish mounted on the wall, Budweiser cans as far as the eyes could see, and a guitar laid out on the couch.      
      
Thinkin to myself, good thing this was just a ****. I mean, this dude would play a precious Montegue to my Capulet.      
      
Opening the door to his bedroom he pointed me the way, says "Get ready sugar,  gonna make you squeal!"      
      
And after things got goin, it wasn't too long, until like a stuck pig, squeal i did!      
You can't  imagine the sounds comin outta that room. Like thunder scared livestock, huffin and pantin and snortin. ****! There may have been a whinney! He did ride me like Seabuiscuit. I mean rode hard and most definitely put away soakin wet.      
      
Then suddenly he shouts "Glory!" and it was over as fast as it had started.. He grinned at me and rolled over. I lay there stunned and spent.      
      
I sat up on the edge of the bed. Not sure what to think. Then noticed my name on the top of a piece of paper on the nightstand. I picked it up and immediately read.      
      
It was the fumbly beginnings of an actually quite poetic love song.      
Quadruple ****** the pounding in my now softening heart.      
      
I lay back down, spooned up behind him, and kissed the back of his curly dark head.

Surrounded by people yet all alone
Trapped within this solitary zone
A world where chaos and hate overtake
Every bit of happiness that may try to escape
Laughter and smiles never seem to last
Because we all act like we want to be haunted by memories of our past, than blame each other for the reasons we think we always finish last, maybe we should try and have some class, stop living in these houses built upon glass.
Running, running searching for distance between ourselves and our own ******* resistance, look around at where we are, what the **** is this?
Unless you're the 1 ain't nowhere to go
These days don't reflect life, what is right, everyone is self absorb they don't see the loss of the fight, too many of us just conform, walk like zombies lost in the dead of night, but all heard the warning…..
That was boring, then just go along the next morning, your lives should be the ones in mourning, can't be the ones the chose their way out rather than go on enduring.
I watch the news, and just think **** this place, **** this space, **** all that was built, in minutes it's been brought down to waste, if I hear one more ******* person say this is the greatest….. no the fuckit's not, what plant are they on, they claim free, none of us are free, just blind because no one wants to open their ****** eyes and see.
Screaming for help, does anyone hear
Demons, and  death coming next, who's gonna be blessed, failure and fighting everyone self obsessed.
Echoes, and lost minds, tormenting all day long, **** reality go back to sniffin lines, and see the history of dads that never were in sons over and over remind,
They breakin down woman who were once strong, how many generations was it gonna take for christ sake, now everybody wants to ask well how long, how long, how long, go **** yourselves all 435 actin like you didnt know **** was wrong.
What serenity anyway
Is it a feeling, state of mind, or just words people say, in the midst of neverendin dismay.
Deep rooted evil no time for  soul mates
Wondering why joy is always a day late
Suicide is livin watchin endurin, not dyin, be a miracle when leaders start tryin.
Happiness, the tears cried, fed with every lie.
Unable to distinguish what's real from what's fiction
Hope is an illusion, an optimist's prediction
What will it take to get right
The devil comes on lonely nights
Angels battle but they lose there stand
Reminicent of their holy land
Lost in ours head we hear their harmonious song
A tranquil state  now finding ourselves
Dealing with the hand which we were dealt
Good vs evil, what does it really mean
Are we ***** when we appear to be clean
Life is an illusion a constant mind trick to me, what is it that you see?
Who knows what fate will be
Heaven and hell are both fair game
Will we succumb to peace or fall down in shame
Surrounded by people yet all alone
Trapped within this solitary zone.