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daylight ascends
into the cottonball sky
of happy funtime unicorns
where love bears frolic
and fun fish soar

i too wish to soar with them

muddy bump in the road
fornicating with my shocks and struts
fuck i forgot my shovel

it dawned on me the other night
that it is pointless to set the alarm

grip
control
draw
death

the world will end when it is finally revealed that ryan seacrest and dick clark finally reveal they are evil phantoms and then take over the world with a snappy song and dance number complete with a clone army of abbot and costello zombies

or maybe it will end in some kind of horrible plague

i'm a bit torn

this sunny, cold, dry morning
reminds me of that day
a time of great reckoning
when with great tragedy
i forgot to put a stamp on the fuel oil bill.

la clave no es la clave

એકવાર પર સમય
હું તીવ્ર રોક પર હોદ્દો છોડ્યો
તે પ્રકારની ઇજા
પરંતુ તરીકે નથી ઘણી જ્યારે કે સાપ બીટ મને.

when i sat and contemplated
the choices that i made
the fortunes that i gave up
the time that i had left
it all became quite clear

next time i'm going to arby's

Yeah?

this probably doesn't bode very well for me.  with the world on the brink of circling the economical drain, i suppose the chances of me finally landing a job are shrinking even more.  one would think numbers can't get any smaller than zero.

not that i've really held on to much hope.  after the first twelve months, ones spirits will tend to feel like a snake that has been tenderized by a herd of elephants.  that's what i've felt like for the past two years.  a walking sack of bloody paste. 

who the fuck am i kidding anyway?  this isn't a god damned hollywood movie.  there won't be any unexpected call from some slick tv producer, offering me the gig of a lifetime.  there won't be any fortune 500 ceo getting stranded in my neighborhood and dramatically offering me a corner office.

there are no corners to turn.  this whole experience is just one, long, narrow, dark alley that goes on forever.  at least this part could be like a big, budget movie.  like a part where the alley ends in some big gnashing metal machine that just fucking kills me.  being eaten by robots would be more rewarding than this bullshit.

it's all such a fucking mess.  and its clear nobody knows how to clean it up.  if the experts are fucked, what hope is there for us schleps?  none.  there is none.  not anywhere.  not in d.c.  not in n.y.c.  not in this fucking carrot tied at the end of a moving stick career center.  it's all fucked and no one is fixing it.

well, fuck then, why am i playing this game anymore?  fuck that carrot, it's probably rotten anyway.  it's time i stop being lead by the nose down this road.  it's time to get creative and to break out of this fucker.  i've been suffering the way they want me to suffer.  that game is done. 

it's time for a little rock and roll.

silly you, there is no bottom.

the world has seemingly become devoid of that sparkle and wonder that is was full of when i was a young lad

when it seemed like there was adventure and wisdom to be gained no matter which way you turned

the pearls of creativity were coveted and worshiped
the fanciful flight of imagination had a place in the hallowed halls of youthful inspiration

where did that all go
or was i making it all up?

...and then he ralphed on my beaker.

they'll have to pry my cassettes and vinyl from my cold, dead hands