.stooge of the day.

my feet have been itching for days now, my loved ones have all up and left me, my beatings are glitchy and too loud, i’m stooge of the day apparently. everyone’s bleating like sheep and nobody will answer me, “ask me again when i’m sober, boy.” i’d love to love you all but my love’s spread thin in short supply. i’d love to live underwater because sound travels better. don’t think my love is less for you when i don’t reply. i’m hard of hearing underground i wish the world was wetter. i’ve been blathering lately i know, my how tall you’ve grown in the meantime, my steps are hazardous i’m told, my prints are fingers in decline. everyone’s blaring like horns and nobody knows what for, “ask me again when you’re older, boy.” i don’t want to be a ghost slipping love letters under doors. i’m not abandoning my post to go fight in the molten core. i think i have had enough expecting pigs to swallow pearls. i want to melt into the sun and give my heat back to the world.

.whiskey and water.

when will we wean ourselves off whiskey and water? we’re leading these willing lambs to slaughter. the children are chewing their teeth into powder. they’re wrapping us in lead and laughing out louder. madness, madness, madmen are making me. we will win will win will we. the collars are choosing us, charming and cozy. the weathered will wither when the willing are weary. the damage is done by deliberate desperate deeds. we’re wrung out like water, we’re wasted like whiskey. take the tempest away, this is the silent age. we will drink and lose the days, never want and never rage.

.zombie.

can you hear me shuffling down the hallway? can you hear me moaning what i can’t explain? there is a hunger, there is a thirst, there is something missing. there is a hole where my heart used to be. i’ll be a zombie if you need me to be. do you see me struggling to remember? do you see me reaching out for an answer? there is a craving that only gets worse, there is something missing. there is a gap where my mind used to be. will you throw me away or cast me aside? will you kill me if i threaten your life?

.velocity.

the sun is going down so get into your finest regalia. grab the satyr by the horns and join the bacchanalia. you bring recreation drugs, me, paraphernalia. drown your sorrows in a bloodbath of vodka and vicodin. babylon has got nothing on our level of perfection. “we’re already ten minutes late… the show already started soon… we’ve really got to go in… you can do that in the bathroom…” we’re in our comfort zone, leave us the hell alone, we’re not going anywhere. it’s not that we’re the first, it’s not that we’re the worst, we just do it faster. hold your head up while i’m talking. this will all make sense one day. when you look back on this moment you’ll regret you looked away. you laugh at me because i’m different, i laugh because you’re all the same. funny that in one parking lot, twenty cars say the same thing. kill your television implies that it once had a heartbeat. “i’d love to get together sometime… touch and cuddle and tease and kiss… wait, somebody’s calling me… i’m sorry, but i have to take this…”

.saint patric.

he hates what he makes, even though his love ain’t fake, so he gets what he gets, and they keep what they take. he gets by with a smile, a little dance and denial, he sells himself narrow but buys into their style. he gives them an inch, they take miles and miles… he tries to banish the snakes, but he ain’t enough of a saint. he’s like what he looks, but that ain’t by the book, so he gets what he gets, and they kept what they took. that may be what he said, but who’s with him in bed? he’s straight as an arrow and crooked in the head. don’t deny yourself, friend, or you’ll end up dead… you get what you get, the snakes take and take…

.rabid rock.

rock needs a shot! it’s rabid, gone wild, it don’t make any sense, cuz it won’t, it can’t, it’s already too late, it’s already in debt to the dollars and cents. they been shaking their heads when it don’t bring in the dough, when it didn’t turn to gold, when it doesn’t make headphones do the shimmy and shake, but the kids want it more and they take take take take, hey hey, listen up now, you can hear somebody screaming… rock has been shot! it’s ragged, in pieces, trying to get a grip, but it won’t, it can’t, it’s already too late, it’s already been hit by the tragically hip. they been dragging their feet when it wanted them to move, when it wanted them to groove, when it wanted them to do it to the twist and the shout, but the kids are all bored and they don’t let it out, hey hey, listen up now, you can hear somebody screaming… it’s the bass, it’s the drum, it’s the beat on the floor, it’s the grinding guitar, it’s the do you want more? it’s the clapping your hands, it’s the na na na na… hey hey, listen up now, you can hear somebody screaming… rock is dead, rock is dead, rock is deader than dead!

.project.

these sidewalks are dangerous at night. i see you next to me, eyes dazed like mine, caught in the crossfire and lost in the light. we slipped through cracks, we’ve broken our spines. our blood’s the same color, a pressing of petals. i can’t tell when you pull no more. i’m too busy pushing to be sure. the only ones left are proudly profane. i feel you next to me, skin cold and pale, sick from the fallout and gone down the drain. we scraped the sky, clouds caught under nails. our world is left over, an imprint on metal. i won’t say nothing bad no more. i’ll find something good to say i’m sure.

.over and over and.

flip the blank pages over until you find the one that’s written on. in sharp contrast to the others, it’s an epiphany, a phenomenon. all it says is “love” over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over… scour through the tape until you find the track that’s recorded. it took the shortest time to make. it’s the one with the beautiful chords. all it says is “love” over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over…

.little plastic beads.

put your gas mask on, sweetie, before you go out to play. what are you waiting for? come on, we haven’t got all day. you want me to stand around and push you down the slide? i really can’t, sweetie, we really need to stay inside. the air is kept out, sealed hermetic. don’t want the sun to make you sick. the poison will make you a lunatic. there’s just so much to do, so much dust to sweep away. got to cover up the reasons, got to plan what i will say. when they come back around and ask me what i have to hide, i’ll say that it couldn’t have been me, i’ve been inside. the fools aren’t around, stupid heretic. pray with those little beads of plastic. while you’re holding them, your voice is magic.

.fling those blues.

his head is hanging low. another fish slipped out his hand. he’s in the corner of the room. don’t let him sink too far, caught in the undertow. tell him his fish will find him soon. you gotta fling those blues, brother… you gotta sweat those blues right out… her eyes are gettin’ heavy. another day is just too hard. she’s in the center of the room. don’t let her overboard, captured by the waves. tell her her day is over soon. you gotta fling those blues, sugar… you gotta shake those blues right off… the suicide doors are closed. the banishment is close.

.coma kids.

sing lullabies for coma kids accompanied by katydids. raise your signs to make your bids with outstretched arms and heavy eyelids. we’re not staying long. nothing to see here, move along. will you miss me when i’m gone? materialized silhouettes freed from all the frowns and frets. stay in line to place your bets, you still have time to pay off your debts. we won’t know the difference. sort of heaven sent. we like being asleep. something’s wrong, but we don’t care. that’s just the way it is, we hear.