after The Anchor Song
I live by an ocean
and during the night
I car through the city.
Sharpening my bones,
while currents caress me,
throat knot'd to anchor.
O'this is where I'm braying,
the sea, my home.
original works of parts
Number
I can trip them up sometimes.
Fantastic.
"Good to go?"
No.
Holding up
holing up
holding up photographs
beside faces
to know what is reel and what is
One of these things is not like the other.
One of these things just isn't the same.
I don't yelp often.
I am a squealer in the sack.
When I scream
and piss inside my pants
One of those things
failed the test and managed to make its way
across the barbed wire,
rounded the corner and
stared me down faster than I could blink.
Fantastic.
"Good to go?"
No.
Holding up
holing up
holding up photographs
beside faces
to know what is reel and what is
One of these things is not like the other.
One of these things just isn't the same.
I don't yelp often.
I am a squealer in the sack.
When I scream
and piss inside my pants
One of those things
failed the test and managed to make its way
across the barbed wire,
rounded the corner and
stared me down faster than I could blink.
Get Serious
I woke up
sleeping coffin style
with a sardine's spine on my chest.
Wondering why
the cats did not get to it
before my breakfast.
sleeping coffin style
with a sardine's spine on my chest.
Wondering why
the cats did not get to it
before my breakfast.
Thank Head For the God Phones 2
My selector.
Whip the wheel.
Say hello and
fucking say hello.
All around and yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Jingle jangle. Jingle jangle.
Just so you know.
Dreaming in daylight
with keys dangling.
Just so you know.
All around and yeah.
Do the numbers,
run the math,
held tight around the skull,
cleared path
with blaring sound to light the way
to forget the ghosts that prey and bray,
horse blinders cut them off at the pass,
if only
to make
why not
volume to eleven
nerve endings burning out
on a landslide to where it is impossible to confuse
the corners and faces and
ALL OF THE VOICES.
Snow the globe to ash.
Whip the wheel.
Say hello and
fucking say hello.
All around and yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah.
Jingle jangle. Jingle jangle.
Just so you know.
Dreaming in daylight
with keys dangling.
Just so you know.
All around and yeah.
Do the numbers,
run the math,
held tight around the skull,
cleared path
with blaring sound to light the way
to forget the ghosts that prey and bray,
horse blinders cut them off at the pass,
if only
to make
why not
volume to eleven
nerve endings burning out
on a landslide to where it is impossible to confuse
the corners and faces and
ALL OF THE VOICES.
Snow the globe to ash.
Smoker 44
the thought that i had
the first yawn of the day that I had.
The coming back together that I had.
The not stealing the piano that I wanted.
The rolling it up the stairs that I didn't.
That nap that I did not take.
The ice cubes that I ... wake up!
Shirley Temple. The sure temple.
Our Ziggurat!
Painted in. No tape. No son.
Remember your age,
but don't check out early.
The thought that I had
is coming back together
and I am mad at you.
I am pissed at you.
I spit at your feet.
And I want you
to cherish the Ziggurat too.
the first yawn of the day that I had.
The coming back together that I had.
The not stealing the piano that I wanted.
The rolling it up the stairs that I didn't.
That nap that I did not take.
The ice cubes that I ... wake up!
Shirley Temple. The sure temple.
Our Ziggurat!
Painted in. No tape. No son.
Remember your age,
but don't check out early.
The thought that I had
is coming back together
and I am mad at you.
I am pissed at you.
I spit at your feet.
And I want you
to cherish the Ziggurat too.
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