Section 17 Row H seats 11 and 12
Almost every home game does he see
A grey haired man with a clip board sits
Two seats over and one down from me
He's a scout for the bigs, Comes most games to watch
Can't watch as a fan anymore
They know he made it, was up with the Bruins
Played defence with Old Number Four
He watches intently for five minutes or so
Just enough to watch each kid skate twice
Then he drinks down his coffee all in one gulp
and then he returns his eyes to the ice
The Scout, we will call him, for lack of a name
Has seen kids who've got game disappear
They find out he's watching, they get all uptight
And they can't play 'cause they're all tense with fear

I watched for four games, got his routine down pat
Watched him arrive and watch the kids skate
He'd go down in the corner and stand by the glass
Watching close through the plexiglass plate
He stayed away from the coaches, the players as well
And the parents, he'd avoid like the plague
If one ever stopped him, and asked "How's my boy"
He'd smile, and give an answer so vague
His career ended early with a stick to the head
Almost killed him, but, he was too mean
His left the game early, with Wayne Maki to blame
The Scout, is Edward "Ted" Green


Each season he'd sit, watching game after game
In arenas all over the land
Some kids he'd notice, he did not come to watch
They were just something that wasn't planned
He'd come into town to watch a kid who could score
And go home with two names on his list
One a defence man, and the goalie as well
But, the scorer, couldn't skate and got missed
Ted, would watch and make his reports on kids
Some were right, and the kid would go pro
He may be a star in the minors right now
But, the bigs...well, fate only knows

He'd listen to parents and coaches talk of the boys
Saying "My son's the next Bobby Orr"
Ted would chuckle a little and not say a word
He knew the kid would be heard from no more
Putting pressure like that on a young players back
Is like saying, "My boy will be God"
From then on it's never, the talented kid
I'ts the boy cursed with Orr's lightning rod
Many young players get compared to the best
But to say it out loud is a curse
You put a red dot on the young players back
He may as well leave in a hearse

Ted's seen them all, coaches, players and bums
Played when the game was real tough
They  had lighter equipment, not kevlar like now
and Ted, as we know liked it rough
His scratches and scribbles on the page tell a lot
But to the untrained they look like a mess
A pharmacy student couldn't read what he wrote
Nor a court stenographer I guess
He's a spotter of talent with stories to tell
More of them about kids who fell short
Most of them cursed with the "My kids the next..."
and the name of the best in the sport

Two Hundred and Ten games he watches each year
Most times he's gone early on
He's sees what he needs and then he packs up his stuff
And by the end of the first, Ted is gone
He's off on the road to another ice rink
To sit and watch on the hard seats, so cold
To listen as parents and coaches again
Talk of greatness, it's all gotten old
Terrible Ted has a warriors soul
And his grey hair is thinner but, curly
He has ice in his veins and a stick through his heart
Too bad his playing time ended too early.

Big ****, The Head *******,
was the head of all the ******* in the ******* Shed.
What made Big **** so skilled and keen
at dickheadedness was to be seen.
Big **** had a certain ******* flair,
for tugging at everyone's short and curly hair.
He never had an important specialty,
except for being a type-A personality.
His skills were near to nothing great.
He kinda looked like a backward ape,
with a necktie 20 years gone out of style,
and his middle-management bullshitty wiles;
"I'm better than any ******* here!"
He'd proclaim everyday with a prickish sneer.
So they put him on his own cocky shelf,
where he could reign all by himself,
and every *******, ***** or *******-wanna-be,
would come to the ******* Shed just to see,
what they could achieve if they'd observe instead,
the ways and means of Big ****, The Head *******.
___
Dedicated to every single uptight, middle-management, pain in the ****
you have ever had to work with or for.

White man, right man
Seriously uptight man
Black man, whack man,
Cutting him no slack man.
Red man, dead man
Never be the headman.
Brown man, down man.
Treat him like a clown man.

Stereotypes, stereotypes!
Notice how it rhymes with hype?
The habit of the ***-wipes
A bitter fruit that’s always ripe.

Poor man, for sure man,
Can’t afford a ***** man.
Waiting on the shore man,
Sweeping out the store man.
Broke man, stroke man
Too poor to smoke man.
Struggle under yoke man.
**** of every joke man.

Stereotypes, stereotypes!
Notice how it rhymes with hype?
The habit of the ***-wipes
A bitter fruit that’s always ripe.

Fey man, gay man
Nothing more to say man.
Please just go away man.
No equal rights today man.
Liberal man or little man
Nothing but a middle man.
Playing second fiddle man.
Never solve the riddle man.

Stereotypes, stereotypes!
Notice how it rhymes with hype?
The habit of the ***-wipes
A bitter fruit that’s always ripe.

As a bisexual, I fear
Few will want you to be proud.
They will bend your ear
Saying things to you out loud
That would be better left
Totally, embarrassingly unsaid
Instead of rattling around
Inside the cathedral of your head.

Too many try to make it
Seem like a kind of venal crime
To want to make love with
Someone of your own kind
And maybe with the same
Gender with which you were born.
To some it is very biblical
And subjects you to public scorn.

Finding someone ****
With the same plumbing as you
It not only delightful
It can be a dream come true.
It feels correctly natural
And works like the other way
Even though people scorn
And use words like ‘***’ and ‘gay’
Or ‘******’ and even taco
Whatever that might end up meaning.
The important thing to me
Bisexuality is so powerfully appealing.

So, those who dislike me
And feel so righteously zealous
That bisexuality is wrong
Are very possibly just jealous.
Or maybe just uptight
Living by someone’s else’s rules;
Not what they’ve learned
And therefore are bigoted fools.

Some things exist behind curtains of experience.  

Those whose tongues have
tasted the holy fire know the touch
of something divine.

Those who have laid eyes on
their sleeping bodies, and walked
away to places unknown, can grasp
the idea of an inbetween.

Those who have groped in the darkness
for something to believe in again, who
have longingly looked over the cliff edge,
know that true despair does exist.

As for me,

I know that true fear can
come in the form of footsteps
behind you on the empty street.

The person at the bar who insists on
hollow compliments and free drinks.

Friends who scoff at your anger for
men who yell out their passenger side
windows about the treasures beneath
your clothes.

True fear can come in the middle
of the afternoon, as you face
off against the four floor staircase
to your apartment, when your steps
are echoed by the man in 2b who has
a wife, son, and a taste for resistance.

Don't tell me I'm overreacting,
when the single most terrifying thing
I can do is walk alone under the street lamps.

Don't tell me I'm too uptight just
because I've learned that flattery
can come with a horrifying price tag.

Don't tell me I'm wrong just
because you don't understand.

Look me in the eye when you have
waited until a security guard can walk you
to your car.  When you have held your
breath in a shared elevator.  When you have
lowered your eyes to the men who yell
obscenities at you, because standing up
for yourself could prove deadly.  

Look me in the eye when you have held back
the curtain of experience, and walked in the shoes
of someone who lives every moment knowing
this could be the day someone decides to steal
from me what is only mine to give.

Then look me in the eye when you tell
someone of your wound, and they reprimand
you for daring to walk this world as a woman.

Uptight,
Never quite right

Blame the “timing”
Despite countless years “trying”

Futile and undermining;
You’re forever chasing whatever it is you find most mesmerizing.

You’re done now with the tantalizing;
I’ve surpassed my prime,
Disposable-
You’re onto the next.

The latest shiny thing -
The “cool girl” trope;
Some pretty face for you to spit on,
Never for her to provoke.

Frail inside,
Your pitiful mind…

So the next one, just like the last:
A temporary home for you to impose your wrath.
Suffering eternally inside, running from your past;
Continually searching for something that will never be within your grasp.

When at first it happens I want none of it. I even say no. I discard the plane tickets, the train stamps, the envelopes of money into a safety deposit box some train station off The Embarcadero and just head East. It frightens me, I'm horrified. The potency is developing in my inner organs, I can't cough right, sleep right, I just suffer and complain. Instead of doing things differently, they've made it so you can soak right in. Just strand yourself on the side of the roadway and they've got rules for you too. The sounds are torturous, the rooms are empty, and the men grow complacent and empty. Nothing is as serious as this. Four years ago a car, three years ago a plane, now I just shuffle and complain. I search for a key to my happiness. I look for it in desktop monitors, caramel apple lollipops, new cashmere vanilla candles, consuming six or more bottles of water a day, E-Cigarettes even, even those, I use apple juice, lychee nectar, mango sorbet, and chocolate fudge sundaes. I'm 40 up on the 140 I went down with. All the miles I'd walked in a firm step, a fever, a bag full of cheap wine for a man that works the car park. 43rd between 8th and 9th. Every thing is bright lights and theater nights. More pacing, there is gum stuck to every square of sidewalk, men and women wheel around a block away selling discount drugs in the streets and outside the Subway on 44th, in the Chinese food mart on 7th. They blow blow blow in their little plastic straw tubes and for $12 a drop they ask you to reach your hands inside their pockets, "take what you like and leave the rest. No one remembers it like this, the girls laugh practically upside down, they wear sky-blue light dyed denim overalls, covering all the parts of their shoulders but exposing their ****, they have plastic bags in their boots, and cute bobby bobbing hair cuts like water crest shoots exploding in lime juice. They pace too, but their legs are shorter, their conversations longer, the horns in their heads grow slowly out from midnight. The devil put the hate on them too.

Even the children are bigoted in this bicentennial. The ******'s nook is no longer the sewing shop in the corner of the strip mall up by Deerbrook Mall. I haven't seen a fountain with change in it since the 80's. The newest thing I heard about imaginations are that, "They come out the first and last Wednesday of the month, you gotta check with Game Stop if you want to pre-order the right ones." I think we must be on number 18 by now. There were four of us riding shotgun in the boxcar up to the valley last month, now they don't even run the trains anymore. One third of everything left to go.

I'm growing quiet; if they can't tell it's not my job to teach them. If they can't spell, I ain't gotta word to word combat that's going to come down on 'em. My brain is so uptight I can't sleep before sundown or sunrise. I see legs and oil futures with every blink. I listen to the old phone messages constantly. I make up stories to go with the missed calls. Still I hope everything will work out okay, because nothing is as serious as this. It makes me sick. It makes the guy undo itself with a brass nail, the blood unclogged from the rash from last month, I find out I'm toxic to poisons, and then I'm told that they're a prescription for that too. It wasn't a ******* rumor. The time to back up or move is now. A idle figure in an orange shirt, a tapestry that moves with every hallucination, forty, fifty, sixty hours I've never slept. I may have been years. My stomach is rusting from water with nowhere to go. I feel sick. I feel woozy, but I don't believe in feelings. I sit upright because I'm uptight, I turn my head around and look over my shoulder. But I know that any friend that's worth looking at me wouldn't arouse my spirit at this hour. There is a net that they speak of when everything's gone. It's the madness that transforms nothingness when the devil's around. Whole empires are crashing. Whole bottom drawers of unworn clothing, tagged and abetted stuffed into black crape garbage bags and drove off into the moonlight. I'm sweating and soporific, living half by half two in and two out, if I had the chance I'd try to remember just which way I get out. When I check on the rumors, when I say my goodbye, I know that I'm the only one sitting in this room of cocksure spirit animals and half-plastic book casings, and that no one whispers and no one cries, not even the bereft can produce a lullaby. I am dying to figure out how to move voicemails from iPhones to iTunes, I googled it while sitting down in the city last night. Poor service. 10 months. Not even one blame the famous few.

After tired comes guilty, after guilty the shame, after that apathy, after that I'm awake. I've never been good at being better than me. But those voicemails, I want them somewhere permanently.

Quaint
pink curtains and tablecloths.
White walls.
The sugary smell of almonds, pistachio
and butterscotch skip around the room,
playing hopscotch and Mary Mack.

The display is impressive,
I can smell each grain of sugar
in these petit cupcakes and dollops of icing.

And then a little girl wails!
Mommy won't buy
      her     anymore
                    sweet        treats.
Bawling--
         the girl does an angry-stomp-dance-
    and then a woman, livid--
storms          up to the counter.
I said half dozen almond biscotti.
I can't take these to my book club.
Isn't anyone here competent?
Her booming voice has no effect
on the lone,
tired African-American woman behind the counter.
She seems disassociated from the present chaos.
The dark circles under her eyes
and the surrounding pursed lip wrinkles say everything.

Excuse me, but I've been waiting
on a refill of the complimentary coffee
for over ten minutes now  
             an uptight gent in a business suit complains.
When the woman behind the counter
pulls out out a shotgun--
        
            there is silence.

This ain't what I wanted
she whimpers just before
the weapon gracefully slides
under her chin--
     --!BAM!--

As I walk out the door,
I wonder how long it will
take for someone to realize
that's not red icing or sprinkles
on the cupcakes.

I once went to Auschwitz, dove in the shoes.
Saw bunch of mannequins in bomb shelters from the fifties.
the house wives listened to blues.
Saw Vietnam Memorial, passed out, ** Chi Min Got hot in d.c.
Cold War cold cuts were all the news, sewing old men toupees in our weaves.

Walked trenches through Germany in mustard gas rainclouds
Saw, **** between Trotsky and Lenin, before he was a mummy.
Listened to George Bush shake Barrack Obama's hand, we are free now.
Caught world war three on the midnight news tele.

In Shambala Destiny, Chocolate covered rose petals,
From the end of the space shuttles kettle.
Boil over tipping point, all your fighting is over.

The air hangs of hung weird folk.
We can hate everyone, but ourselves.
Each moment in history had some one to hate,
Statist tend to do that to opposing encroaching States.

WE get to own the slaves, the cows of neck tie collars,
Oligarchy of patriarchical, man meat, manipulative, demagogic, isolationist, miscreant, pro-government pseudo-capitalist, state CORPORATION dollars.
Join the army old men. You hold a gun like a limp ****.
You gotta hold mine to my head, Cause money ain't doin' ******'s trick.

I jump from a painting of war veteran spiritualism.
I give no glory to people fighting for my freedom.
I hate violence, no one will ever FIGHT for MY freedom.
I am Freedom.
No state can make me that way.
No gun in my hand will change evil men.
My words must be my gun.
No one will hold my weapon.

Evil is evil, you cannot change its face through plastic surgery, Prozac, religion, or painting any other name on true morals.

I watched him
sneer at his
plan gone a-rye
he was uptight
and outspoken;
the worst kind

as the ribbons
tore and frayed
he gritted his teeth
until it was too
much and he lunged
at the young man,
grabbed him by the
throat while screaming
"IV'E HAD IT GOD ******!"
"I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU
MANGY *******!"

many years later
I saw the uptight
outspoken man
on a street corner,
laughing at clouds

By: Cedric McClester

To achieve your ambition
Stop hoping and wishing
Voting is a mission
It’s like going fishing
No fish will you find
If you don’t cast your line
So drop your remote
And go out and vote

Your candidate
Might not win the debate
But let me clearly state
If you don’t participate
Then you abdicate
By not voting your choice
You lose your voice
And can never rejoice

Democracy demands
Having all hands
Both critics and fans
Despite their brands
Being involved
To get their problems solved
Things tend to revolve
So we’ll be absolved

Voting is a right
We could lose over night
Unless we unite
Stop being uptight
And stay engage in the fight
For which people died
Payed in blood or their hide
To not be denied


Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.

this is a reminder of your right to riot
of your right to assemble and not be quiet
this is a reminder of your right to remain violent
and that the only real enemy is your silence
this
is a reminder.

they say a picture is worth a thousand words
but i think i'd rather have my voice be heard
i'd rather write essays formatted perfectly in MLA
fifteen pages due in two days

i know you'll hear me
might not be listening but when someone's shouting
like this, it's hard to ignore
upright uptight baby don't be a bore
(too short, too tight, baby don't be a *****)

live life loud,
that's why you've got a mouth
if the pen is mightier than the sword
why do actions speak louder than words?
why is it that by faith i have been saved
but faith without good works is dead

according to the voices in my head
everything i want to say has already been said
i'm a mimicker not a poet
i spit back words fed to me on the internet
i spit back facts from media
i spit back spit that hit my face
regurgitation of information is all part of the game

no one can hear you in space
i could press my face to airtight windows
cross my heart and my fingers
spit my screams into dark matter
what really matters

what even matters
evening out the odds of lasting that long
i thought about writing a list of things that make me happy
but then i decided i'd rather write spoken-word poetry
and i think that probably says something about me
spit it back at me, now
spit it back at me
spit it back at me

i know you can hear me
you're probably not listening but now i'm shouting
so loud you can't ignore
upright uptight baby don't be a bore
(too short too tight baby don't be a *****)
upright uptight baby don't be a bore
don't be a bore
don't be a bore
baby baby baby don't let them call you a *****

The courtroom was more stiff than a old man on ******.

Half the room showed up from are small little town for lack of having that strange thing called a life.

The charges were tuff shoplifting caught on videotape.



All hopes looked grim and my best drinking buddy looked like he was heading to that iron bar rehab  

were the promise of no *****, No drugs,  No *** okay maybe Bone was already used to that one

well of course if you find hairy weight lifting fellons attractive and lets face girls who doesnt like Bad boys .

Well maybe then it wasnt all so bad.

No more sleeping on your stomach im just saying.



But enough with the foreplay.

It seemed all hope was lost but never fear cause when your friends with a half insane repeat offender

the **** can only get worse.



I busted through the doors like a half insane teenager going to worship the antichrist Justin Bieber.



Judge I will be repressenting the client .

Sir Are you even a lawyer?

Judge I assure you im a decorated attorney why i have my degree right here .



The naughty woman judge took the paper ever so forcefully from my hands mmm I wonder what she's wearing under that robe hey I dig chicks who are into the whole bedroom clothes in the public thing.

judge may I ask you something?

Looking at me in the way so many women have befor.

Like they dont know if they should use the pepper spray or just give me a swift kick in the no no zone.

The Judge said yes  but be brief ******.



Well have we met befor?

Yes we have ******* I sent you to maple for six months for fruad she replied in that stern

ive gotta gavel and a batman robe voice that just drove the boys wild or usally made them **** themselves like puppies on the new carpet.



Sir this degree looks bogus.

Your honor  why ever would you say that .

Cause its from F.U. Universty.

The strange mall cop in the court laughed  once made the judge shoot him a look like he wasnt getting any desert tonight after dinner im kidding besides he probaly doesnt even like desert

just ***.



Look Mr Gonzo im tired of this crap i hate life i sit on this hard *** seat everyday and if your fool of a client wants a fool  for a lawyer be my guest.



I walked back to sit next to dead man walking better known as Bone.



Gonz what the **** are you doing?

Dude i got this i watched the Lincon lawyer like five times last night this is gonna be a breeze.



The trail began the uptight party downer began speaking in big words talking how it was wrong to steal.

Your honor I ubject.

On what grounds?

Duh stealing is what the whole country is based on hey ever here of the indians look what we did to them.

Took there country forced them on thoose casinos and even made one join

the village people I mean really  Y.M.C.A  is but a cry for help that and a party song for most bars

were really nice old guys buy you drinks for no reason at all.

You mean gay bars you idiot!



The strange man at the other table said.

Sure there gay who wouldnt be happy wearing leather pants dancing  allnight long not that I did

I was just there looking for directions  and getting free drinks.



Order In the court! the judge shouted.



I looked to the strange man they called the prosecutor once sounded like a great name for a pro wrestler with being a lawyer as well no wonder this man was cranky.



Ha Ha your in trouble i said in such a grown up  way  with just a hint of village idiot.



Mr Gonzo one more outburst and im throwing you in jail right with your friend now zip it.

I checked but my pants were already zipped yes i knew she wanted me .





After as few good laughs from the courtroom.

We began speaking of all sorts of boring crap of right wrong  and on the verge of going into a coma.

The strange man called the prosecutor stood up your honor I pressent the evidence that will seal this case air tight.

The rent a cop wheeled out a tv kickass finally we can watch tv

hey i wonder is baywatch on?



Bone put his head in his hands just **** me now.



The prosecutor put in the tape.



The film was in black in white **** i hate student films.

Some man seemed to put  a steak in his pants  what a ******* everyone knows a salami looks more real

in  hung like a elephant freak show way yes size does matter.



After the student film the room was silent yeah must have bored them all to death like me.

What was hollywood thinking silent films were ****  duh we have speakers for a reason.



Mr Gonzo would you like to make a final plea.



Standing befor the room semi sober i took a deep long look around the room

Friends Romans  and Canadians I ask you  is it a crime to want to appear hung like a horse

yeah sure  we all wanna fit in okay maybe something that size would never fit well maybe in some freaky internet **** freak but really.



My client  stands acussed of buying beer and stealing a six dollar steak but  I ask.

Did he  steal or was this video tamppred with.

That SGi **** is everywhere okay and its destroying movies wow 3D movies there the newest thing that have been around since the eightees okay.

yeah I know thats like back in the depresion era.



I took a deep breath and knocked the the tv over ohh im sorry.

Well judge looks like no evidence no case wanna ditch this place go grab a few drinks

maybe find a room you can bring your gavel hey chicks who are into ***** stuff need love to.



The judge looked at me in what i can assume was a state of utter awww.





Later that evening.



See Bone I told you id solve everything .

You ******* idiot you got us both locked up.

Duh now you wont have to spend this whole time alone  sure your gonna be there a few months

and i'll be out in like two weeks but jesus you ungreatful ******* look all im giving up.



Besides everyone knows  i make the best toilet wine around hey one eye Winchel loved my last batch and he normally kills his cell mates.



Look it'll be like a sleep over in a place we cant leave or have any privacy how bad could it be?



Bone thought to himself yeah your write Gonzo

cause after i **** you they'll give me the electric chair for sure.

Yeah see wait a minute.



In the flash of a eye Bone's hand were wrapped around my throat ****** why didnt they let me bring my **** whistle.

As i was being choked to death I really had to wonder about are friendshi[p I swear you go all out for someone yeah ya get em sent up the river but duh it's the thought that counts.



Untill next time kids stay crazy and dont drop the soap

We were about a case deep in the conversation Jerry my
life long amigo and fellow brother in madness were finally catching a buzz.

And much like a chick ya knew after way to many beers
would probaly dance strip cry try to **** you puke and then try to make out with you  after you held her hair.

Jerry Was finally in the zone.
For my normally kinda silent almost creepy serial killer
acting friend when under the influence transformed into
a true brother of Gonzo.

Well aside from his morbid love of REO Speedwagon and Journey.
Dude! if i stopped smokin I could out sing that ******!
Yes if not for being tone deaf and sounding like Bon Jovi beeing mauled  or rapped by a bull or flipper  really whats the diffrence?

Dude idk why people are so uptight on  face book?
I mean just cause i posted my **** on there look it wasnt even hard.
Okay I thought to myself  this ******* tripping  probaly due to the *****  or the mushrooms we stole from his grandma.

Well i replyed to my kinda unsobber Journey listening drunk off your *** **** pic posting short friend.
Gonz it was cold out okay.
Yes amigo point taken.

Im guessing amigo that people when they want to get to know the inner thoughts of a shallow mind really dont wanna read.
Just dicking around rock out with your 3 inch  **** out okay it was  cold out.
that and stop poking the  the next door neighbors daughter
much like this write it's just weird.

True she's just a small town girl but ya gotta stop beliving
open arms and perverted nature are welcome to all
besides she wears a helmet and is 16.
Once ses to me she's not just fahsion foward  but prepared for
for the fall  of the flying monkeys.

Jerry looked deep at me with thoose  hound dog after he took a dump
in your bed sad yet naughty eye's of his .
And finally after some silence said you know Gonz
you truley cut to the heart of the matter and i just farted.

Yes he was a charmer and people wonder why were single?

Just then there arouse such a clatter.
Dr Jerry dropped his lawsuit against extense.
As I posted on twitter does this dress make me look fat
in a question which i only wanted replys from *** admires from
what a girl has needs !  

It's officer Rutherford time!

Answering the door in my trusty school girl uniform minus
the heels cause i was retaining fluid.
What? It's that time of the month you know january get your minds outta the gutter you naughty pennguins you.

Officer Rutherford  where have you been.
I knew my sorta outta my mind and kinda whoreish
way's would bring you back.
But enough with the foreplay children.

Yes even though officer Ruherford's eye's oh **** not this crazy *******
I knew in his heart burned a deep desire  to run like hell
and join to the witness relocation program  just to escape me.

Look John I just gotta serve Jerry okay have ya seen him?
Officer  may I ask you a question.
Like if I say no it stop you. You crazy *******.

Officer would you find this weird if you saw this on facebook?
What the **** it looks like my kids hamster what is that two inches ?
It was cold out okay!
The voice cut through the madness.

Is that Jerry!
If it is will you come in smoke cigars drink brandy while speaking
of summers past.
Shakspere in the park that first love how her hair smelt of
jasmine  and lips tasted of peach.

Officer Rutherford stood much like a man who wished to god
he was anything but a cop  dealing with a drunken perve
right now.

Look **** this I knew i should have been a godammed
hairdresser or a ******* mall cop.
He tore the paper up and sped away gone from my life
without even a kiss dam you cruel world!

Currituck County Cop's  zip  Gonzo 100  
Victory is sweet  yet bitter as a old grandma
you do uhh favors for, For drinks  im just saying times
are tight  and thats about all that is .
Yes I know im going to hell or Indianna really whats the diffrence.

Shutting the door going long for a beer and crashing through
the trailer wall dont worry I didnt spill my beer.
We sat spoke of things only true brothers from other party girl mothers do.

Ya know amigo I really should write about are antics more
often.
Gonz  people would think we were from another dimension.
Or a mental ward btw want cheese  on your roadkill meets
some glowing **** stew?

Hey whats in that *** ?
Umm some  deer  maybe a I dont think a brazlian hamster
maybe fluffy.
****** man stop taking from fluffy she only has two legs left.
That and whatever is in that *** just got out.

After some deep thought  playing guitar hero  and watching
scrambled **** off cable I think thats a **** or a christain.
No it's a elbow dam you Simon Cowell
and your tight black shirts  its just not the same.

The ***** gone  and on the brink of food poisening
and that awkward feeling called being sober
yes I know scary.

It was my time to leave.
Jerry. What the **** ya gonna do tonight?
Gonzo,Probaly puke  for a hour watch **** ,take acid
maybe talk to the wall make out with a random
women that reminds me i must check my traps

It's a shame when they chew there leg off and get away
you gotta love strippers.

Deep in thought or maybe on the verge of passing out
my kinda crazy amigo replyed

You write?


Dedicated  to my real life  brother who's
never read a word ive written.

Jerry Waterfield.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, tell me what suits,
Soft natural highlights, or strong punk roots?
Auburn red or beach blonde hair,
Brunette with greens, or short blunt rare?

Mermaid midnight old balayage blues,
Grey ombré curled with lilac hues?
Lemon yellow paint or neon spice,
Purple color that matches my hazel eyes!

Tousled, textured, twirled and twined,
We could take it to the front, or let it all behind.
Black hair with beautiful mahogany dye,
Fringes looking pretty every day passing by.

Straight hair with an asymmetrical bob,
Lips painted red, formal and hot.
Tie buns and bows with colorful clips,
Grow pink hair long, till they reach my hips.

Fish tail braid like a Boho chic,
All pastel shades spread, across the width.
Blonde and bright, they are in my sight,
Soon to be a celebrity, wearing them uptight.

Burgundy wine perm, crazy long,
Every hair color has a song.
There are chances that they may look all wrong,
But hey! I'm not scared to just play along!

“The rest is silence.”"-A. Crowley

I

I will know you only because
you are known to me deep down
beneath the subtle shadows carved
permanently upon your deceivingly
angelic face
sculpted by an artist
nameless to none but the heavy slab of stone
he used to create an ache
I’ve come to want to know as you
whose soft and silent rolling voice
where from there springs the torrents
of a turmoil melting like wax
in the mixed up chasm
of your mind
the destroyer of your smile
the reminder of bad times
that causes me to know you and from where you come
riding in bare-back
jet-black hair flying on
the hated molten roaring
riveted steel furnace
of inner anguish
again
and again
you beautiful deadly diamond black jewelry rose
of unworldly charm and perfected pain.

II

This is how I know you
in the steamy swelter of the nightfall’s
stifling bluish pall
you and I alone somewhere
anywhere
but probably nowhere
between the silken smooth heavenly legs of
here and there inside
the broken smoked crystal chandelier
of an ancient chamber room illuminated by
the flicker of more than fifty slowly disappearing
jutting candle-flames
I know you
because you make yourself known
to me
on the black-satin wrinkled bed-sheets that
we lie
writhing around upon like two
dying dancing angels
being swallowed by the suffocating oil
of a shame we bother created
just like gods
or dancing dancers dancing slowly
dying
in the pallid ***** fuming fog
…dancing with the gods.


you are as I know you
silhouetted in the silence of our
ecstatic shattered sighs
as we fly through lust’s futile passions where
we lie, we lie
we lie…

III

You are crawling across
the one-thousand mile mattress
stalking towards me
starvation’s fire fuels
your steely-sharp brown eyes
leopard-like your lithe,
tiny olive-brown body poised
ready to pounce
ready to strike
arrayed in skin-tight crimson lace
deadliness flashing on your face
your ******* dark and pointy ******* feel
fit for me to fed the song—
I smile—
then with healthy, stealthy fury
you leap
and pin me down
trapping
me between these shiny sheets of coal
and your sweeping feline glowing
perfumed-prison hair
polished glossy ruby fingernails
dig deep
into my massive arms
ivory razor-baring teeth
bite my hips
my neck
my chest
my thighs
you stop just in time
to devour me
delightfully
rocking, reeling in the sounds of us around
the intoxicating scent of your
flaming fountain-***
colognes my livid throbbing burning *****
I yell
I try to scream
I want to cry
…but instead, drift off to dream.

IV

You lie awake
aiting watching and waiting allowing
your imagination and your hands
on a journey to your ever-lingering
flaming fury far beyond the heights of hunger’s call
just as we have done no doubt
without each other
for a long time
in the cold
in and out
up and down
back and forth
body arches
thighs uptight
muscular calves quivering
toenails clenching like an eagle’s talons
on the bed
--lift high your sweet holy offering to the air!

Hands wet and warm fly from the glistening
magic perfect patch of forever music
that makes me want to weep
you scream
I awake
we breathe deep
we go back.
Repeat the scene.

V

Pre-dawn purple painted brush-strokes streak the sky
framed by the window where I know I will find you
in nothing more than a gown of sleek vermillion
light-chamois
that displays the room glow striking at your body’s faint
outline
your slender legs
your precious girlish hips
that golden chain around your waist
Divine
your blushing tearless chiseled cheeks
I arise
and walk behind you
run my trembling fingers up your spine
I still don’t really know you as your sighs compete with
mine
you reach around and lead me away
behind a peeling splintered door
warped and withered with
dismay
where you will teach me how to paint
by spilling your blood in
splatters
upon the floor
in said consequence I
calmly take the blade from
your tiny talking hands
pull your slashed and sliced torn wrists
to my tongue
and slowly lick
with a lingering criminal kiss
the dripping cuts that begin to fade
and go away forever in the day
now that the wounds have disappeared
becoming scarless
bloodless
sere
I can but heal your beaten lost youthful body
although I cannot convince you that
I care.
Daylight here.

VI

I know now that I know now
that I know you
and in the ****
with suntanned bodies wind kiss-hissing
through our hair
we walk side by side
on the blistering shoreline sand
avoiding bits of broken glass bottles
one by one
if we can
slowly strolling to the edge of the
abysmal eternal
emerald omniscient ocean-waves
breaking
ttundering
blanketing our feet
spraying its mist upon
our hands
I stop
you sprint
on diving headlong at the deep
the foamy water roars
and roars
you emerge and approach the shore
standing straight along
beside me
to stare
at a pair of grayish seagulls circling
in the air
squawking songs about themselves
when before the breathing of a minute
one
bird drops dying dead to feed
the never-ending belly
of the sea
the other screeches viciously
mourning
you look
at me
and then I come to know now how to know you
now that you have at last known me
as your part your pink and precious lips
for the first time
we will ever kiss
as you finally cry for
our
reality.

That is not sand left clinging to your cheeks
Just the salty tears we need
To set us free.

Now you can bury you and me.


(Threnody means “funeral chant.”)

Do people ever truly lose there mind or were they always ******* bat **** to begin with?
I believe half this earth is run by insane people most of which have way to much power and far to little sense .

The ******* radio is a great example ever listen modern music ?
You know that **** that doesn't require any talent to preform just a record player and some half wit to rap along with so you can have a remix yes country music is vile enough let alone throw in a nerd that would **** if he got his thirty thousand dollar sneakers ***** once are made in some sweatshop for ten cents a pop yeah how ******* fashionable .

And remember when you had to play a ******* instrument to have a record out?
Yeah I'm so old fashioned I mean sure kids wear all the  shirts to half the bands I grew up with and have no ******* clue who the bands are but yes the world is stupid and you wonder why I drink.

Just like people who believe the world really gives a **** there having a bad day # who gives a **** Twitter is for stupid ***** and celebrities who have as  much depth as a public toilet but are far less clean.

People always read me and believe I am this nice easy going goofy drunken ******* who only lives to make them laugh and talk about ******* well who doesn't like ******* there awesome.

Hey Gonz do you like kids ?
No I don't !
Why ?
Cause they always annoy the **** out of me when I'm trying to sleep off a good ****** in the park really whatever happened to letting the TV raise them hey I look at me I didn't turn out so.
Umm well okay so I'm a little ****** up .

Hey do you ever get tired of being funny or find it hard to come up with new things to pick on?
Well just watch the evening news for a second and head down to the local bar or that gate of hell Wal-Mart and look at all those ******'s who believe they have to buy **** just cause its on sale yeah sure why not buy two hundred rolls of toilet paper  cause you never know when the world may end and the zombie apocalypse will begin .

Newsflash when the world does cease to exist you probably will to and when your starving to death or being burned alive I really doubt that wiping your *** is going to be your top priority .

And we already live amongst zombies   there called yuppies and those I phone twitter loving instagram ******* are ******* everywhere and driving while doing all this **** so pick your head up and watch out!!!

I recently was on a little road trip and while in Evansville Indiana as me and my head cheerleader were riding around the city late at night we were ran into by a young and brainless little **** who admitted she was texting and driving and as I sat there waiting for officer fat **** to arrive to give this cyber **** a ticket .

Yes Indiana it's slogan should be hey are you ******* lost?
Yeah I know I'm a real people person .

Anyways as I sat there viewing what looked like babe Ruth in a bullet proof vest hand out a ticket as he sweat out gravy I had to question with  fifty lares of flesh for padding was there really a need for the vest?

They say when you go insane it's hard to truly rejoin society .
But honestly after looking at half the strung out loony toon's that are considered normal why the **** would you ever care to be part of there brain dead **** storm ?

And since when did the news care what was popular on ******* You tube?

Todays top stories the worlds on the verge of self destruction, A man kidnapped a child ***** her for several years has five kids with her but later on that right now let's check out this cute cat video.
yes the worlds obsessed with ***** .
And you thought it was just me.

And why do teachers now all **** there students and where were these horney ******* when I was going to school.
Yeah having to settle for a ******* from the janitor just wasn't the same.
Although he did have a fantastic grip I'm kidding.

And why  do people even own TV's duh cause books are to much like work but hey remember to buy mine cause it has  plenty of pictures  yeah what isn't poetic about ****?

Yes I can imagine what the great writers from the past would think of the new bestsellers.

Who doesn't like books about gay *** wizards and **** vampires that glimmer in the light yeah I didn't read it duh I saw the movie *******
yeah you may laugh but whatever got my sixteen year old girlfriend in the mood was alright by me I'm  kidding again she was twenty one at the time least that's what her fake Id said.

Yeah least I'm not as bad as Micheal Jackson  cause I'm actually alive that is duh.
Yeah he didn't have issues he just a ******* amusement park in his back yard .
Me I'd prefer a ******* or maybe a mall yeah don't ask.

Common sense nowadays it makes people laugh and the key to humor is always truth people are all ****** up hell just look at me I'm truly insane I own my own bar I get paid to write I do stand up for free drinks but honestly would you really want me doing anything else?

Attention this is your captain speaking umm look I really  don't know how to put this but I forgot to gas up before we left so looks like were all going to die as we crash into the earth and burn to death.
Yeah my bad .

But hey I want to thank you all for flying delta and please remember the do not smoking light is on yeah sure your probably going to be busted into a million pieces but heaven forbid the ***** next to you catches a whiff of smoke before he dies.

Loosen the **** up cause your not going to live forever  .
People are so uptight afraid to say **** or disagree with each other cause we all need to think alike like a bunch of ******* lemmings.

I grew up around backwoods rednecks I lived in the city slept in the ******* street okay there's no difference in people except real ******* people aren't scared to **** others off they are who they are and if you like them great and if you don't then ******* life's to dam short to sweat the ******* and this high school mentality needs to truly get ****** the worlds messed up so embrace it .

Like me, Hate me at least you never have to guess what I really think .

Stay crazy kids cause the normal ***** of this life are usually  total closet freaks who **** hookers on the side and make bombs in grandmas kitchen .

It's a shame cause a good ****** is a terrible a terrible thing to waste.

Well hamsters until next time this has been your bartender for life with your friendly perverted public service announcement we now return you to your regular scheduled program right smack in the middle so you wont know what the **** happened cause we can nah nah.

And if I somehow offended you please fell free to write to.

Gonzo's complaint department in care  of .
105 It's called a ******* joke way .

Cheers Gonzo

I've ****** up,
friends of mine
no longer close.

I've ****** up,
Got through high school
uptight
drunk off my ego
of a man who
thought he was better
that all the rest.

I've ****** up,
old love potentials
no longer close
to me, but
instead thrown away,
never to feel their lust again.

I've ****** up,
help me find
a way out
of this *******
I've dug myself into.

What moral magistrate
Monster of mediocrity
Makes a model citizen of me
Even if I don’t want to be

All upright and uptight
Humorless jackboot
Goose stepping toadstool
The fascist conservative fool
Who pedals misinformation
Counting on fear and stupidity
To turn strangers into tools

Yep that one eyed sheep
In the blind herd
Who wants to tell me
What I should or shouldn’t do

Why bother
With that proctor
Of indignity
Who counsels
The talented
To remain dormant
In their humility

Doctor of docility
Prescribing conformity
Storming the cities
Bleeding us of our individuality
To make more metal cogs
For the culture machine

A race between the Flash and the Man of Steel
This would be a competition for real
Who do you think would move fast?
Who would you think would come in last?
It’s a possibility in what could be
Imagine two Super Marvel’s in a race too see who is truly great
It would also show their sportsmanship in how they both relate
It would be a run to the finish
The winner being triumphed and distinguished
This wouldn’t be a race against crime
That story is another time
Flash moving at the speed of light
The Man of Steel feeling a bit uptight
The Man of Steel would be disqualified if he were to fly in order to win
But the Man of Steel coming from another planet, would that automatically disqualify from then
A canny detail
But the policy remains in order to preserver
It was Flash in the lead
The Man of Steel was maneuvering in proceed
Just around the bend
It was Flash being the champion at the very end
Well the Marvel Hero’s shook hands and are off to fight crime
This will be until the end of time.

Gettin’ ****t on like I’m The Villian,
got this queasy feeling on the line reeling,
coming undone at the same time wound up and spun,
I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing,

want to throw myself up out of myself,
can escape every position except the one I’m in,
can’t escape yourself if knowledge is wealth,
then I’m loaded & still spending my winnings,

got Karma Credit but I’m morally cash poor,
because I just fckt my girlfriend as if she was a *****,
and I feel terrible or rather horrible about it,
because i think I’m infected by what neglect did without a cure,

no one is pure,
at least I’m not that’s for sure,
I'm tainted with devils in my head painted with what I spilled I’m red,
sick with the sort of illness that can't easily be cured,

in fact got a bad case of the blues,
but instead of strumming a guitar I’m taking things too far,
cut her so bad with my fingernails,
that I fear it might leave a few scars,

tied her up so tight,
that her wrists turned purple,
see she’s attracted to bad boys,
and I warned her that that’s the type of attraction that can hurt you,

little girl shouldn’t be out past her curfew,
nothing good ever happens past midnight,
but we’re both running from something,
both stand outs in the in crowd still something doesn’t sit right,

I’m uncomfortable,
because I think maybe all humans are disgusting,
maybe we just cause each other pain and trash the earth’s surface,
maybe we deserve to feel guilty & that’s why we are all fcking distrusting,

maybe I’m gonna fckn **** myself,
but this is a card game so then again maybe I’m bluffing,
maybe everything’s going to be alright,
maybe I’m being uptight for nothing,

but I’ll tell you what I feel like the **** of my own joke,
but I don’t give a fck so instead of changing I’m just shrugging,
mean mugging every person I pass suspicious of every bloke,
because these days crime pays and everyone’s always up to something,

and I just want to get ghost,
but I can’t and I guess that’s the way it goes,
so I’m sittin’ in the uncomfortable position,
of being both a role model as well as a criminal,

Gettin’ ****t on like I’m The Villian,
got this queasy feeling on the line reeling,
coming undone at the same time wound up and spun,
I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing…

∆ LaLux ∆

Beautiful disaster, only after I make you feel like you matter, does the smile look real and not look forced or plastered
Beautiful angel, filled with scars of past anger, the cautions signs are up but I attract danger, while you pray to the Lord and people call you my savior
Beautiful creation, you are literally flawless in your face and you tell me I’m great and maybe its true but I always feel like the last resort in your crew, and you wouldn’t know cause God forbid I spew how I feel about me and you
You say I hurt you, I know I was a total **** show, but instead of staying to help me grow, you walked
And I hate you for it.
You walk when I’m weak, you talk when I speak, you walk when I am sad, and you talk when I’m mad, and you just walk away all the time from everything we had
What did we have?
You say your desired that you can take care of yourself, well go ahead then if you don’t need my help, and if you can get from anyone else, then why keep coming back to just put me on the shelf, I DON’T GET IT
I spread my arms wide for you to lay a tired head, but then you call me “old friend” as we sleep in the same bed, and you make me feel special but then call me a mess, I don’t know if you like me or wish I was dead
You get text from other girls but I can’t get mad, I’m not allowed to claim you like I wish I could have, apparently that ship has sailed I missed that, I feel like I just got out of rehab and I’m regaining a trust I really never had
Emotional stability? Unwanted credibility? Forced fertility and silent treatments times infinity
What a great relationship were building
I walk on egg shells just to feel your approval, is this what love is, ha can I get a renewal, because my past was abusive but this just cruel
I’d rather be alone than feel like nothing by your side, I’m not someone you can just decide when you want to reveal me or to hide me in a dark place of your mind I am not just an option I am a ******* human being alright?
I’m not just a piece of jewelry you can wear when you want, I’m not just some pretty girl you can flaunt, and I’m definitely not just your *** toy you can use once a month
Because we have differences, youre indifferent but you tell me how you wanna bend me over the sink and ****, and I don’t understand it, maybe I am just an object and if you truly believe in it, it must be significant
You submit to a man that’s what that book says right, you tell me how I shouldn’t be so uptight, but I also shouldn’t do anything without you at night, and if I’m not around then Im not trying I’m not fighting to be in your life, but I say I miss you tonight, I wanna kiss you tonight, I wanna touch every inch of you while you’re dimming the lights and ignoring your sight, you preach honesty and perfection, I am not perfect and im used to objection, youre the only one that makes me feel depression, just ******* see me try and I guarantee you’ll feel some effection, im not forcing a decision but I don’t wanna waste my time on a long term rejection
You seek a perfect relationship well good luck with that, you were married once and look where that’s at, you say you’ve heard it all before, I get that, but face you don’t know what you want so accept that,
Tables have turned and now I see that maybe you should find yourself before you come looking for me, and like you told me that’s how its gonna be I’m gonna walk away now like you walked from me
I’m not looking back, I’m better than that, you wanna love somebody, but don’t wanna love their past
And someone will love you but that someone’s not me, leave me alone now and let me be
I’d rather be alone than fall to my knees and beg you to see that this is real and this is me but you can’t see it so I’d rather be free
Control my own happiness and love myself more than you could ever love me

I didn't want it to end up like this
Gotta be somethin for me to write like this
been thinking about you for a minute
only you get me to react like this.
Loving you even when you push the limits.
loving you so much forgetting wrong or right.
thinking, in the middle of the fight.
I can’t wait to make this right.
Cause make up ***, after anger text was always the best.
We’ve had our share of unfair fights
   you played you fair role, even though I was right.
relationship have their its ups and downs
and we got too uptight,
started taking things
the wrong way
and what we had left,
wasn’t right.
Couldn’t hold it down,
cause we weren’t solid ground.
kept letting each other down,
smiles always upside down,
falling for someone else,
more ****** up than it sounds,
when we came back to our sense,
it’s each other we found.
It’s funny how you see things for what they are.
Aiming for the moon, when you're right next to a star.
Wasting time chasing something you will never find
at least I have learned over time,
learned from mistakes takes time.
If you love it in the first place, don’t let it go.
So when it comes back, it doesn't have a place to go.
the fact just goes hand in hand
it’s what most people don’t understand.
the union between a man and his woman.
abandoned they fall apart, and united they stand.

Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while
Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies
Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst
Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?

Let us die young or let us live forever
We don't have the power, but we never say never
Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip
The music's for the sad man

Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever, forever?

So we livin' life like a video where the sun is always out
And you never get old and the champagne's always cold
And the music's always good
And the pretty girls just happen to stop by in the hood

And they hop their pretty *** up on the hood of that pretty *** car
Without a wrinkle in today 'cause there's no tomorr'
Just a picture perfect day that lasts a whole lifetime
And it never ends 'cause all we have to do is hit rewind

So let's just stay in the moment, smoke some ****, drink some wine
Reminisce, talk some ****, forever young is in your mind
Leave a mark that can't erase neither space nor time
So when the director yells "cut," I'll be fine, I'm forever young

Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever, forever?

Fear not when, fear not why, fear not much while we're alive
Life is for living, not living uptight, see ya somewhere up in the sky
Fear not die, I'll be alive for a million years
Bye-byes are not for legends, I'm forever young, my name shall survive

Through the darkest blocks, over kitchen stoves, over Pyrex pots
My name shall be passed down to generations
While debating up in barber shops
Young Slung hung here, Shorty, the ***** from here
With a little ambition, just what we can become here

And as the father passed his story down to his son's ears
Younger kid, younger every year, yeah
So if you love me, baby, this is how you let me know
Don't ever let me go, that's how you let me know, baby

Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever, forever?

Slamming Bentley doors, hopping out of Porsches
Popping up on Forbes lists, gorgeous
Hold up, ****** thought I lost it, they be talking *******
I be talking more ****, they nauseous

Hold up, I'll be here forever you know I'm on my fall ****
And I ain't waiting for closure, I will never forfeit less than four bars
Guru bring the chorus in, did you get the picture yet?
I'm painting you a portrait of young

Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever and ever?
Forever young, I wanna be forever young
Do you really want to live forever, forever, forever young?

Trucking around music playing loud
Took me weak acting like they are proud
Cheated on by false promises misled love
Saying they live but don't want to be with the person
Sticking around how perverse this is going to get worse horrible ending
Not faking love or pretending wish this were real but don't have time for fake
I treated you well and loyal accused of wrong doing those are your uptight actions wrapped in wrong coming out
Send this out to those who I looked out for and they stabbed me in the back
That's my fault for being over trusting moving too close and turning my back
I'm not over reacting could of said worse
Be responsible stop blaming others for you being cursed

Hey Kids ever wonder why people are such a pain in the ****?
Well thats usally cause they have to work for a living and unless
your in **** that really ***** well I guess in that field you get paid to ****.
But enough about what certain people I cant mention do in there free time
im just saying.

And ever wonder kids why your parents are so ******* uptight?
Duh its cause befor you  mom and pop used to be total freaks.
Now Pop is lucky if he gets at least once a month from moms sister.
Yeah thats why they invented hookers I know what a ******* .

But enough about global warming cause really I just live here on the planet.
Why should I care about it?
Some people often ask me.
Gonzo dont you think you should put the bottle down and give up the drugs and *****
strippers?

Hmm yeah probaly when hell freezes over and hopefully it does cause I have never
looked forward to moving to a warmer climate.
Yeah sure I could stop being a party animal and ****** with a heart of gold.
But **** that duh then what would I write about?
Being misreble like everyone else really doesnt sound all that fun.

Hey ever wonder if im really insane as you belive.
Well just send me a key to your house and find out.

One time when  was but a young little Gonzo.
I stole Grandmas credit card and tried to hire a ******
for *** ed  class I always was a more hands on student myself .
Yeah it would have worked  if that old *****  hadnt noticed it gone

Thanks Granny you totally ruined a kickass party.
Its okay she talks to the wall in the old folks home now.
Im kidding  like id waste that sweet social security check on a home.

She's doing just fine in the shed out back ****** that reminds me i gotta
feed her and take her to the park for a good run yeah I know im all
heart except fro the rest of me.

You know I think it's unfair hookers never give discounts.
Hey look every other company does even ******* subway.
Yeah the footlong isnt really a footlong  some people really
dont know what to do with a tape messure.

Hey remember its not the size that matters yeah news flash
if she ses its a good size then locks herself in the bathroom
for a hour and you hear a motor going off as the lights dim
on the whole dam block .
Well women lie  just like men except way better.

Sometimes I like to get really ****** up
I know your shocked.

Ever wonder why weirdos love to hunt ufo's and bigfoot?
Duh you cant live off star treck reruns alone.

Some people think im a pervert and a drunk and a womanizer.
And a drug addict well and a sick ******* as well.
Words they really hurt well at least to people who give a *****.
Sure they said alot of good things about me but they also left out a charming
mispelling half wit duh what *******.

You know sometimes I think.
Hey it could happen.

Just remember kids whatever you think of me.
If you dont have a sense of humor you'll ******* hurt yourself.
That and Gonzo loves you all and especially if your hot.
And if you have any pics send em to www.learntotakeafuckingjoke.com

Untill next time hampsters.
Remember that little bump on some chicks face aint a beauthy
mark its probaly ******.

Dam you Cindy Crawford well at least i'll never forget you.
Im kidding she a good girl it was just the clap.

Stay crazy Gonzo

The smooth sounds of rnb,
Vibe from my speakers
Deep into my mind.
While the sweet melodies
And lyrics flow in my ears,
My brain reacts to words
And sends signals
through most of body.
Music control my state of mind.
It brings violence or peace,
depending on the lyrics.
The beat controls my tempo
Mellow or Uptight
Music controls my life,
And emotions
It will always make my day.

The station wagon bounced down a dusty road toward the farm house, and Phoebe, who had just turned fifteen  felt the pit of her stomach coil, and tighten with dread. Gazing out the window she locked eyes on a bored looking cow slowly chewing a mangled knot of grass. Phoebe wondered in that moment if even the cows were more depressed in Bismarck.

Her step-father, “The Glenner”, had been too cheap to fly her back home to Oregon from a summer camp in Minnesota, and had arranged for their local minister, Cru Hayward, to pick her up along with his daughter, Lizzie. Phoebe’s sun burned skin ached as she pealed it off the sticky back seat. The air conditioner had broken down in Fargo, and the eight of them were all squeezed in like a pack of cranky sardines.  

Phoebe was going to be spending the rest of her hellish summer with complete strangers in Bismarck, North Dakota on a wheat farm complete with cows, chickens, and one grey mare along with Lizzie’s six cousins.

The car door swung open, and a large man wearing blood stained overalls with extremely bushy eye brows lunged toward them, “Why I wrecken’ it’s been goin’ on five years, Cru! Bout’ time you come home with the kids to work the farm.” He took an oily handkerchief out of his back pocket, and wiped the dripping sweat from his brows; appearing out of breath at the same time. Phoebe took note of how “Bushy Brows” had replaced the word “work” instead of “visit”, and suddenly felt as though a chicken feather was caught in the back of her throat. Cru Hayward looked stiff, and managed to put out his hand to shake Vern’s, but instead was pulled in tightly, and given a bear hug smudging the wet chicken blood on Vern’s overalls directly onto his brothers white Oxford shirt.

As Phoebe entered the farm-house a variety of scents wafted through the steamy air. Lizzie’s Aunt Doodie was nervously leaning over the kitchen sink peeling a large stack of potatoes so high they were beginning to topple off the counter one after another. An extremely obese cat  sat by her feet pushing them across the floor with as little energy possible.  Standing on a small foot stool in front of an old-fashioned *** belly stove stood, Trina, a small child around the age of five who was busy feeding a dog the size of a small pony. She appeared to be in her own unsupervised world; busily shoving strips of steaming barbecued  chicken from a platter into its wet slobbery mouth, and then licking her fingers.

Phoebe glanced into the nearby living room, and noticed the walls were decorated with handmade plaques quoting scriptures from the Bible along with various cheap prints of Jesus; like the kind you’d buy at a church fair. Small miniature figurines decorated the home throughout. An open bible lay on the arm chair of a tattered recliner.  Feeling self-conscious, and out of place, Phoebe tried to hide in one corner as she watched Lizzie hugging her Aunt Doodie’s belly wearing  a hand-made sweat shirt with “Elvis” on the front. Gospel music was playing loudly from the living room. Phoebe mumbled under her breath,  "Where's the donation jar?” Aunt Doodie’s eyes narrowed when she looked at Phoebe, “Did you say something, Dear? What’s your name?” Phoebe managed to croak out her name, and say she was just talking to herself.” Aunt Doodie gave her a wry smile, “Why you’ll have plenty of time to talk to yourself tomorrow in the wheat fields when we get you up to work at 4 a.m., Missy.” Her snarled lips faded, and she continued talking to Lizzie smiling big, “Now where were we, Lizzie darling?”

Phoebe already hated it there. It had been less than five minutes since she arrived. She began to think if she had a money left in her suit cases to take a bus home. She frantically dug in her front jeans pocket, and pulled out a piece of lint, and a dime.  

Lizzie’s cousin’s all stumbled into the kitchen wearing clothing that looked as though it had passed through several millenniums of “Goodwill Store’s” in the 1970’s. Their straw hats hung low over their  eyes, and  Lizzie could tell they were ******.  Lizzie’s cousins had all been stamped out by the same cookie cutter mold like twins. Their ages ranged from seventeen to thirteen, to age five. Trina the youngest being no doubt an accident.  Marty, the oldest at seventeen, wearing a ripped Metallica shirt was the first to speak, “Lizzie look at you! Why you all but growed up on us. I bet you’s the most popular girl in school with that pretty face of yours”. Marty was handsome in a Emelio Estevez actor kind of  way. Phoebe couldn’t help but lick his beautifully sculpted arms, and chest with her eyes; but when he caught her staring she quickly looked down at her shoes. She felt her face burning with embarrassment.

Aunt Doodie turned around swiftly on her bare heal with a large milk pail in her hands. "I'll be back girls. I'm out to the barn to milk the cow for supper. Don't break anything."
  
Twila was sixteen with black eye liner under her eyes, and red lipstick. She suddenly leapt onto Lizzie from behind, and covered her eyes while wrapping her large chicken fried steak fed legs around her. Her hair was curly, and extremely frizzy like it had not seen a comb in it for several years.  Twila whispered, “Hey Lizzie, who’s your dweebie friend? Don’t look like she can smile much. Maybe our cat got her tongue. She looks like one of those uptight city girls!” Lizzie couldn’t hold onto Twila any longer, and tried to drop her down gently. A loud “thud” bounced the floors as she fell. The inside of a nearby china closet rattled as she hit the floor forcing a glass plate to fall, and break. “Ahh  ****! That’s mama’s favorite platter.” Twila looked straight into Phoebe’s eyes, “We’ll just have to blame it on you, Phoebe. You just keep your mouth shut about it!” Ignoring that Twila had just accused her of breaking a platter Phoebe heard Lizzie mumble, “Oh, this here is my friend from home. We both went to summer camp in Minnesota together, and we’re her ride back home to Oregon.” Phoebe at this point was already imagining a large pig shaped nose on Twila's face; and not the kind that was cute. Twila glared, “Looks like you in lots of trouble now city girl”, and walked away with her cousins leaving her to stand alone in the decorated gospel room near the kitchen.

Phoebe wondered if she landed in some kind of Twilight Zone episode that had not been written yet. She decided to go for a walk all alone on the wheat farm until someone called after her for supper. Phoebe was lonely but she was lonely at home with her mom, and step-father too. They always left her to fend for herself, and her mother rarely spoke to her.  Phoebe felt as though it was like living with two ghosts you can hear; but can't see.  Besides, she had decided that this summer would be spent working on her writing. She had always wanted to be an author, after all, she had always noticed everything.
Her thought was broken when she heard someone say, “That sister Twila of mine is mean as a snake. Don’t pay no attention to her. To this day I feel like I must have been adopted. Hi, my name’s Shawna.” Shawna had a beautiful face, and was tall for her age. She stood about 5’8 with long blond hair making her look almost like a mermaid with her fair complexion. “My twin sister, Shaylynn, went into town to rent a movie for us all to watch tonight. We ain’t got internet. I think she said “Back To The Future” was finally available, or maybe it was “Jurassic Park”. Have you met Joel yet? He’s about your age. He’s always hanging around the bowling alley with them local boys. Don't know what they even have to say to one n' other. It's not like anything ever happens in this town.” Shawna seemed like the nicest out of all of Lizzie’s cousins as she reached out to give her a hug. Phoebe smiled politely saying, "If you don't mind I think I'm going to go for a walk. I think I need some air" while waving a quick goodbye.

When she returned from her walk she opened her journal to page one, and this is when it all began to get very interesting.

My Summer In Bismarck & Other Quirky Observations

by, Phoebe Snow

August 7th, 2015

The horizon seems to encircle this entire small farm as if someone drew with an orange crayon around it like a child would on paper, or perhaps with white chalk on the sidewalk. Everywhere I look it seems flat; and at night the moon hangs so low in the sky with the brightest stars next to it than I think I've ever seen in my fifteen years of life. Lizzie's Aunt, and Uncle, and all her cousins talk funny too. It's like they stretch out their "o's" when they speak. Kind of like hearing a bike tire that's going flat with a pin hole in it. It seems forever for it to finally run out of air; and sometimes you just want it over with as fast as possible. That's how they talk. I'm always finishing their sentences in my head ten minutes ago. These people seem so foreign, and yet I know them like a story.

Journal entry: August 16th, 2015

Marty has come into my room. He is standing in the doorway with  his chest pushed out. He is seventeen, and I am fifteen. I know what he wants by the gleam in his eyes. I won't give it to him.

I got up from my bed, and closed the door on his feet. Silently. I left the scent of coconut oil on my body drift toward him. An invitation; but not yet.