baroque escallators staircase to shelbiville

anthony is a strange cat, but one that purrs

anthony is a secret agent, saved prophet from a heart attack in 2012


no fault because golden brown is a fine temptrest

finery in fractal foam concrete stucco plastered bullshit

it gives us cancer and jobs

the los angeles melanoma

advanced circa 1987

prostitutes on the sunset strip

striping our skin in cause of lust and desire

what the fuck, eh?

I used to be talented,
Now i move furniture

i used to have skillz man
now i'm divorced, single, whatever you wanna call it

I can sadly no longer sleep beside
My child and the woman I loved

she's a bitch

what the fuck, eh?

my baby left me
she's with some dude named steve now
i guess, i think he knocked her up
that's why she won't talk to me
she knows it would devastate me, if i knew

That's Me
yayah

but it's okay
cause i wash dishes by day
and by night
i do the Hectrizm

yeah

it's a chizm in yo chasm

you twist until you froth!

he's gettin some shit
oh yeah
this is how we do it on creek street
it's sorta like how they do it in tampa
but not quite
it's almost like how they do it in north carolina
jack digs that shit

i'll turn it down completely
just for you
but under my breath
i do ride the greyhound bus

inuit style

guest blog

do the hectrizm - brought to you by doritos and the arcade fire:

Guest blot on J's blog? Holly S***... what an honour.

shakzula tha micrula
tha oldskula, ya wanna trip? i'll bring it to ya

At this moment, Tom Waits is rolling in his grave (even though he is not dead... yet), because John Malkovich has been replaced by "The River Dance". Are these Jon Voigt's teeth marks on my car? Cabalistic cannibalism. The sequence of words that is the "YOU ARE" object on Forgeche's bumper... "De 'la Leon". D'aeon.

Sweet, innocent, and blessed Adolescent at play with monochrome chromaticism.

jack would approve, even in his lantern - "forgetaboutit".

but don't lose, nothing lasts, nothing is lost
holy coughing christmas, the absurdity continues

i am a good battery
i am rechargable


fight the power that be
or perhaps fight yourself...

Me eat sandwich now!

now i'm at a loss for words
one two three, the mirror's black
not the smoothest segue in the world, but fuck it
and peel the noir scales of the eastern seaboard serpentine
the most awful circumstances of justice and karma have been tipped by the loss of a nephew's hero

Rustory

rust on metal
rust in metal
a bloom

it’s over
nothing to hope for
end of story

rustbloom

it’s done
no hopes to be dashed
anymore, fallacious record
in the smoldering library ruins
pain, shame, forgotten

rustbloom

the latest dance craze

yo everybody
do the hectrizm

its a twirl in a chizm
and a chizm in yo chazm, for that matter

yo everybody
do the hectrizm
then do a spin spain'll
just for fun
fuck ya ah

do the hectrizm
it’s easy
you just twist like this
then you twist like that
and keep twisting till you start frothing

ahlraaahty, ahm awtayheya

if it's not sigma, then it's not

and i mean that, let's go fly a kite up where the air is clear -- it sounds better with the chorus... soaring soaring soaring, up where the air is clear, oh by the power of my concave chest i dedicate myself to windfarms... and i will always be the little crack in the basement

i have had a vision

God touched me.

It felt good.

Familiar.

I'm drinking beer with God.
It's a good time.

God's got a bottle opener.
He opened His beer Himself.

It's a god meeting.
It's a garden party.
There is trance music.
It is shambhalala aha haha.

I’m meeting God

in a sunny room

with white walls

and force of life.

I’m going

to go into medicine.

I’m going

to become a doctor, fuck yeah, God

damn, goddayum ummum mum.

Forget 2012

it's all about 008.

If it’s not sigma, then it’s not.

And I mean that.

Thus, it follows.

Let’s go

fly a kite, up where the air is clear.

It sounds better with the chorus, soaring

soaring soaring, up

where the air is clear, O

by the power of my concave chest

I dedicate myself to windfarms.

and i will always be the little crack in the basement

take what you can get

have your doll houses

5% borax

aha

itchy

allergin

it's a stepping stone

springs

i can't do much with this blog

but i can do battle

we've arrived
after chicken fat
and baking soda
to the ultimate spring placemat
of this conjunction of words which is:

placement is the mystery you never knew or did you? hey, check out my left labyrinth, how does it work? i dunno, i never drexed here before and i never covered my tracks it was back then when things fell apart and i smiled, and i was happy, when the universe owed me, hahahahaha

okay, that's too many has
they'll be rotting on the carts
surplus, what'll we do oo oo oo oo oo oo
another go round?
ow ow ow ow?
wow?
yow?
for fuck's sake
i will be your savior if i don't have to do anything

this is the time i burned
i could say a lot more on that subject and i probably will
jonesying for the aftermath, but not reelee

hey you

i love riding the ride - that's why i came here in the first place - it's the starship enterprise capstone - or something - now i snap my jaw - and all space falls into place - ladies and gentlemen - thinking is stupid - i so brilliantly say - haha

mean mean people, telling me i don't write anything worth knowing - i know, i know - it's okay - let it roll, let it riddle... let it ride - i am OUT of it, whacked out, remember that? what is left? silly little stubs of cigarettes? i guess i like it best online, haha, when i'm flattened to a plane between dimensions... fuck, nothing, drifty solvents - solvents are always there - i have more words for you - i could write more stuff - hey you - i referenced you

safehouse

jack is a carolina lawyer - good guy - he is soluble in water, tragically, but it's only as tragic as beethoven's 14th tearpool if you know what i mean - and you do - so i slid down the highways, i rode down the freeways, i itched, i burned dinosaurs, i brought back books, those are the treasures, right now is weird time though, paranoia, and anger, and guilt, and shame, and wanting to be something you're not

i know how fucked up people are

good god in heaven the house is mine and i slump
down for another attempt at an epic dollhouse

i love itchingwingy

your head is bobbling, it comes with
various things, garlic whispers, spring confusion, yes

i remember your head
you got yourself a treasure trove
it was good time, partners in ecstasy

i'm a fucked up product of this age

i'm a good guy basically, but i'm itchy, and things are coming apart, but you can feel the rhythm just NOW SLAM dampple on that hit, right there, and again NOW

truckin' vitamin C, haha, the funnie papiers, flurries of grits and flits

oh yeah - indulgence
oh god yayah, the handyman can
manufacture candy at a fraction of the price
you would expect of such a case

the world is big and scary
my head is small and comfy

buckets of love

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check out the graveyard
ants eating your aunt's eyes

it's hard to be stoic
when there's nothing to live for

in the frozen fish corner of the supermarket
pronouns will be her path to glory

magic fader

once i conjured synesthetic braille

i didn’t have to try very hard

colors were tasty, contours loved me

vonnegut hated me

then i drank a bottle of glenfiddich

and had the best drunk of my life

a literate drunk alone

posting poetry and replies

spinning, nauseous to a

spiritual hangover

when penance didn’t hurt

now it’s different

now there’s more channels

and most of them don’t work

but i keep my finger on the magic fader

stay to the left

and you’ll get through the maze

i love my magic fader

i love my magic fader

it is my favourite fader

because it’s magic

there is no magic anywhere

except the fader

that’s why i keep my finger

on the magic fader

i got a magic fader

smells like a magic marker

it is a lucky charm

it only works on me

i wish it worked on you

i love my magic fader

i love my magic fader

it is a lucky charm

it keeps my fingers busy

this is how we do it on creek street

this is how we like it on creek street

it used to be like this on stanley street

but they moved on to bigger and better things

and he gave the lease to somebody else

some earthbound family, not the cosmic family

and i would invite fast friends from the rotwood porch

into my corner to play with the magic fader

it was not my fader, it was our fader, we’d have magic parties

that would fade, but there was a picture of a mixing board

on the fridge to remind us of the magic fader

that might have some earthly avatar

in a studio temple in the mountains

across the lake

stay to the right

and you’ll get through the night

i got a welfare cosmos

i got a welfare co-ah-ah-ah-ah-os-mos

pharm-fresh filling up the cavity

we'll call absence substance tonight

kootenay snow in the sinuses

state boundaries make good riddles

empty heads make good rattles

good nexus makes a good nexus

i got a welfare cosmos

i got a good deal

take it with a grain of salt

and a gram of soma

this is how we do it on creek street

this is creek street welfare

galactic information warfare (sic)

every good boy deserves fentanyl

~~~

i’ve got nothing to say

the pungent lines i wrote two houses ago

have gone rancid, cerebro spinal fluid, perishable

but i have the gall to make them look poetic

tomorrow i’ll weave them into a fugue

for geese and clouds

aphex to take me out

meadow soprano was right
you have to learn to block stuff out
unless you want to be insane
unless you want to be insane

can you blame these psychotic suicide case columbine kids?
it’s all the mercury in the fish
they’re just like their neurotic parents
i have so many flavors of craziness and depression waiting for me
so many desperate attempts at synthesizing a life
life after burnout, life in the middle age, life begins at 40
so many role models
can you blame them?
it’s all the subliminal messages in the television programming
it’s all the lead in the paint

medical technology
can tell us how advanced our disease is
i’m a connoisseur of disease, all i can write about
the scab i’m subsumed in

all the recent downloads
are diseased
and everything is bullshit
everything i write, everything everybody else writes
music is pointless, drugs are placebos
and everything is bullshit
except aphex, why is it that aphex always works?
when i’m feeling desolate, aphex somehow makes
desolation and desperation feel right
beautiful, selected ambient works volume 2

i WAS looking for a drug, but not just any drug
i wanted dramamine, cause hedonism trips
aren’t working, but sleep always works
like aphex
i’m drowning and the house is on fire, is it?
good for the house, i’ll take dictation
hear it in the hallucinogenic toreador
and i love drammies, and i love dreams
and life is so cruel to me lately
people hate me, or maybe it’s paranoia
but dreams and aphex are good to me

cassey clarke the paranoid mutant - we live under the sea
she just got through with them, but is she through with me?
i can't see from here

key lime

at the end of a swoon
pixies giggling around the corners
at the end of a swoon
wanting to cry, not being able to
swooning for the fairies, flailing

how much is paranoia, how much is reality?
what can one say? how down is baseline
how much deeper could i go,
sinkholes in your kitchen? call 555-


karma suppository, antacid dissonant base
it's taking too long to hit rock bottom
i don't want a faith healer
i could believe in her lips

my doing

she thought i could handle it
but she was wrong
i couldn't deal
with being left
we'll start this off with a raz reference, i guess

now we'll provide some space






because she goes well with the void now
feng shui is a bitch
and i'm curled up in her corner
on pharmaceutical sleep


i never know what to do
when i get paranoid
i don't have mantras
love to, love you
i love you
and that's alright
i came out of a mountain pass in a video game
left part of my brain on the apartment porch
i don't quite believe what i'm told about blacking out
but i wish i was back on the beach
i wish i could have kept the good vibes
those vibes that justify love
i don't know how to act
in such situations
i'm not a lover
but i'm a lover of love



i could hang on to those souvenirs i bought
sell them, whatever
i'm not interested in maximizing meaning through open-ended metaphors
i just didn't want to plainly mention
the american cigarettes
cause plainly mentioning things
brings unmentioned assumptions, in me, in you
and plainly mentioning things
also brings unwanted realities
like the stupid things i do
to satisfy stupid transient voids
like those I don't want to be apart of
and i'm not that important
and it's not that important
just a fragment, of me being upset tonight
and interpreting things
in a downward spiral i might term a feedback loop
one of those things

i have no friends when i'm this deep in the void
no one knows what to do, they can't help me
need expanded
to undefinable parameters

not sure why i'm writing this
or maybe i know and don't want to say
what i should do is shut the fuck up
and wait for my mood to improve
but i don't know how to improve it
so writing has become one in a series
of desperate measures
this is desperate measure number eight
the same number as art bell's experiment
the one that failed to heal mckenna's brain cancer

indulligent

vistapro
rendering

interpretation
when you can't just perceive

i wanted to ask her interpretation

not as coherent
writing very profound seeming thoughts/feelings
in little out of context poetic fragments
as it would be if i was giving context
straight explication

but, there is also music, sometimes
give me geekdar
then it will fall into place
the scales of justice

how to disappear completely
become invisible
at your beck and call
but an unneeded servant
but i fucked it up
to provide a poetic fragment, of no use
which radically changes the context
but what use is that?

still the weekend
still traveling

bounce off the cold vibes
find the warm i guess
i nixed the idea of comparing notes with a fellow paranoiac
who's more chronic than i am, would hate to be this paranoid all the time
i'm blaming it on the greenhouses, and the dao, both of those things
inability to face
victor consumer
of the chili cookoff

Innocence.

I'm trying to build up an immunity to life. The 35,000 dollar chord progression will be sufficient. Royalties with mudhoney. Figured out a pop aesthetic I suffuse with the sneer of sly sophisticated sarcasm.

Burning eyes. Borrowed time. But I'm not counting the days.

Guilt is poison. Give me sixty-four Sammy years.
I will declare myself innocent.
Innocence is possibility.

It's good to know you. Better than the void.
Baby. Baybee...
It's only teenage wasteland.

I think we integrated, for a moment. It was nice. But I can't take it seriously. It's a situation comedy. It should have an upbeat theme. There's a time for life and a time for living, the choice is up to you, my friend. Sometimes you gotta go where everybody knows your name.