death-stoned on poison death



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