saw music

the latin real book is unceremoniously subsumed to crumbles, vital crumpers, core campfire crumbles, not long for this world, good for a night, maybe into a melting morning plateau, it might work, we'll see

those horn shots are loud, even on headphones, and there's enough pabst on the kitchen counter to kill art tatum - there's been a slide, in quality, in intelligence quotient, but in the dark scummy valley of the brain drain, on the other side, with half-clever plumbers who haven't fixed our dank basement hideaway homes yet, we feel that standardized tests didn't cover everything - i was a fly on the wall when they standardized the test, corporate canada breeds bad beaurocrats and worse entrepreneurs, all highly successful, i'm waiting in line for my next hit, the next is always best and spice controls life and i have friends in high places and masons in my basement with poison fangs waiting to claw my balls off - i still have my straw hat stashed away, it's dusty but it calls people to me, mugwumps and women but mostly the former, or it might given sufficient delcharm

there's something beautiful about the sight of the saw, the see saw of sobriety and intoxication, the way it sways, the way it cuts through my retinas - thought i was tired, summer gave me a shot, squandered exponential sums of money and became even more jaded, even more jaded, even more meaningless, faux-jaded, meaning too much of nothing, might as well, especially something that's unsayable, i say in a condescending way, you said it before and i nod, i've heard it before but never quite like this, i'll find a way to hear it, see it, you won't see that i see, you'll be frustrated, forget what you were talking about, i'll see that and see that it's the key, i'll fashion the key, you'll see the key after a fashion, my fashion fancy, fancy that you see that fashion, and i'll say hey, what were we talking about? and neither of us will remember because it's not scheduled til novemember

everything changes then
the dirty diaper this country has lived in
creepy k-crust cradle, how old can it be? it's a long artistocratic hangover
hork up your appropos and importune forefathers, fashion chinese fortunes
nicotine bandaids and solider on, the sins and stains of finance, the viral strains of delirium, virulent dramamine, methamphetamine, apple pie, this country
this country
this country
you know what i mean
when i saw you north of peace river

sheeit man, i haven't pimped my sister out just yet
there's still markets, caverns, gemstones and Fine Fruit Combos
that's copyright, FFF, fight for freedom, fight slapstick sarcasm
fight self-effacing irony and question jello biafra

find a goat
dig a moat
row your boat
who's got the tooth?