I have always found love in the Autumn....and have lost it by Christmas
The highway has it's own peculiar melody. Different tunes from different vantage points....on the side of the road with your thumb out....walking under an overpass...walking over an underpass...in a car....in a truck....in a bus. Different melodies of the same base tune. The melody has a name, "Food and Fuel 1/4 mile"
The difference between the thought of "it's over" and the reality of it, is cavernous. It makes me want to drink, smoke and snort heroin in copious amounts. But I don't, and move from day to day...numb and wondering what the fuck do I do?
I know what the answer is, but it is getting to that point that is laborious in the utmost.
Bukowski quote: "Women, I thought, women are magic"
and I am
Entrance Ramp, Arkansas
I get out of the West bound car to head North
North into Missouri, Springfield to be exact
The entrance ramp is lined with hitchers and I take my place in the line, Im at the end
Unwritten rule, service men always get to cut to the front of the line
It's up to you IF you want to do the Hot Cha Cha
Life is a Carnival
She has said exactly 6 words to me in two days. Two short sentences worth
"See ya later" and "What's Goin On?"
Where the hell is the popcorn vendor?
Kissing the right woman, the right girl, the right one....may I kiss you so deeply that I crawl right into your mouth?
I stand by the side of the road, thumb out, heading West. The roadside is littered with all manner of tossed items...someone's left sneaker, an old ball cap, cans and bottles. To my left is a field of grass, slowly swaying in the breeze. Throughout the field, kissing the grass, beckoning, are beautiful wildflowers. Much of my life is like the side of the road, but she made a small part of it as beautiful as that field of wildflowers.
The adult ad claims women prefer a man with a huge penis.....well sonuvabitch! It's back to liver and cored apples for me.
I think it's fucking hilarious that I can write just about any bullshit idea that comes into my mind and 100 years from now, some dope might think it's brilliant.
Why does it feel like I am doing something wrong by being up in the dead of night?
Not quite sure which is worse....not knowing if you are OK, or feeling a bit down cause I don't hear from you much anymore...it's a toss up. Either way, that damned incessant heart on my sleeve is in need of a bypass.
Why is it that most men find their pleasure in the pages of the Sports Illustrated swim suit issue, while I find the plain middle aged house wife shopping at Shop Rite more appealing? Well, Sigmund?
Tug of War
Whenever I begin to feel good about something, ANYTHING
Depression rises like a tired old man and reminds me why I should really be sad
It's a tug of war that I'm sick of
Epitaph for my Best Friend
I'll wait for you on the curb of Tuxedo
There, it will be a warm Autumn day...forever
There, the smell of burning leaves will fill the air
There, the acorns will be ripe and plump
There, the sleep overs will be frequent
I'll wait for you to cross the street
Then we will walk together
Together into "The Jungle"
The Cost of Living
It just occurred to me that I cannot afford to die and I cannot afford to live....good fucking deal!
I have to step carefully today
It's like stepping on egg shells
One misstep and the whole thing can crash down
Down, down around my head
They have laid in the dryer
Laid for what seems like forever
I feel them laughing at me
No one will help me
I'm on my own
Helpless against their evil bullshit
I'd rather have a boil lanced than wrestle with them
Trying to fold them
Everything is almost perfect
This one moment in time
I feel content
How long will it last?
I glance out the window...
Looking for the coming of whatever
Whatever to fuck me up
Gerrard turntable, Marantz Amp, Fischer Speakers
Nothing quite sounds the same as it did on that setup
A great record collection was all I ever needed
South of Topeka?
I don't really remember where the hell it was
Woods surrounding Darlington Lake
Eastern Kansas Spring
Naked long hairs smoking grass and swimming
All so natural
I didn't get aroused...thank God
Sometimes it is easier to just not eat
Rather than to take the time to put something together
Oh, bury me now, on the lone prairie
And I'm not fucking kidding
Some folks piss me off so damn much
The ones that really kill me
Are the ones who never shut the fuck up
Like, they have to interject anything into a conversation
Simply because they are so fucking inadequate
It's almost time for my spring place settings
The selection is not so hot at the Salvation Army Thrift Store
Not a one without a "spider" crack
The sun is barely up
"Work for 15"
I'm number 10
I stamp my feet on the cold concrete
What's it to be?
Install rugs again?
Book bindery? I liked that one...lots of reading material
But no covers
The barbiturate family of drugs
Softly rounds the corners
Of my pointy square life
My favorite poet, by far
Hardly anyone knows him
I didn't realize he committed suicide
With a bullet to the brain
His suicide note simply stated:
"Messy isn't it?"
A kindred spirit if there ever was one
Eggs any style
The sign in the window says:
2 eggs, any style, home fries, toast and coffee
I dig deep in my jeans
Fingering the solitary dollar bill,
There is no middle of the road feeling out here
Thumb out, cars and trucks screeching by
You either feel haughty and adventurous
Or so damn self conscience that you want to crawl under a discarded cigarette pack