death-stoned on poison death

PRESENCE IS

six bottles of beer lined up like pistons

see it through (see through it)

tape reels spin in eternity

the holes in your jeans are made to be seen

sweeping up the hair

Neil Young’s long hair streaming in the wind

have watered the seeds w/ black bile

to resolve every difficulty before the final chapter

Nothing Doing: A Critical Autobiography

my new band: Mutton for Punishment

last night dreamed of Queensway

“there’s a spider, man, in Peter’s parka!”

I just heard someone ask someone else where I was

& was promptly shot in a botched job

the photos are more real than those times are now

baby, it’s you

fence posts against the desert sky

“The Monster Imperial” vs. “Acres of Clams”

“The Ghost Shirt Society”

every step must justify itself

the bathroom mirror distorts everything

against mastery: music is not my slave

want to have that same feeling again / over & over

what is now an extraordinarily positive way of life will have to become average

I love the upside-down horse

units now available at trendy Morningwood Heights

I dreamed they found your body in the park

she’s so popular, she has to beat the guys off with a stick

you live on almonds & chocolate & wear a feathered mask

his hideous jackoffering

follow that branch to the narrowest

the enchanted hunter’s quiver of Eros

plaid shirt small town baseball cap

come touch the monolith, baby

why make sense when you could be making $$$?

The green surges forward, swallows the works

the old boy sitting with folded hands

the man without a shadow smiles whitely into the spotlight

main man C.: “strip mall dojo”

they’re all just made out of water

I’ve got some / hurts to swallow

more important to see yourself than to be yourself—

hit song: “No One’s Gonna Love You when I’m Gone”

but you know I’m going to survive the fire