I’m the guy drinking beer on the bus


honey promotes health, coating your throat.

The amazing Pud Bowell at Carnegie Hall


fool me twice about it after all

a finely oiled, well tuned, neatly pressed, carefully folded


have I got a hell of a story to tell

this is a prison break


it seems both doors are never locked at once

for this reason the text is what we know nothing outside of.


Open the face of the library clock ticking off

I’m invisible when the crows come to call


didn’t know whether to shit or go blind

here, river power runs my electric guitar


the sense of incommunicability with oneself

spiritual freedom vs. temporal freedom


music of a house that creaks in the wind

voice is the haunting of the “I”


meet my fucking line quota

beautiful music tempts me to sad sin


who put a bee in his bonnet?

Drinking a cup of phlegm


you & I have birthmarks in common

I applaud your restraint






push A to jump, push B to shoot


“no mail delivery outrages residents”

not your everyday opt-out bohemian aristocrat


inexorable as garbage day

a little wink of a moon


a freedom that is dreamlike—that is childlike

darkness tight murkiness dress strategy


his young, Ivy League face haunts.

“Resource management,” she wept


in, she came in, wearing the impossible.

The contrabass trumpet is a talking duck


Out & Out of Work Jazz Trio

my brain is a radio receiver of words


Heather & Heather who are together

goin’ down the road, feelin’ bald


the taxidermist’s son is sneaking around at night

ice cubes performing the sugar cake caper



white skin mask


my national fantasy—to create a place where I belong

she was disappointed throughout herself


nowadays, we all skip to the last page

situate myself in the anti-authoritarian