Everyone wants to be cool until you’re in too deep Lying about experiences is easier No scars, no cravings, no nightmares Just the glory, just the pussy – Free drinks aside, consider the broken man Alone with his tears Awash in horror years after the fact Stories too real to be cool – He thought …
And they find you when you’re able Or so they will say Able now, supposedly – It’s all on your ass Stand to and deliver Accept your fate, it cannot be changed – Into the meat grinder you go Their bravado legendary Your sacrifice forgotten – It is the fate of man to suffer In …
Once I had a strange encounter at a party. The beverage of choice at this party was a classic Midwestern university favorite- Miller Highlife. Now this beer is known as the ‘Champagne of Bottled Beer.’ This is both the marketing slogan and the tongue in cheek name for what is otherwise a pretty shitty beer. …
I wonder if the bauxite miner And the sturgeon know That their respective contributions to the economy In salty eggs and the base ingredients of aluminium Will be combined in tube form And spread on toast in Norway – Does the existence of such tubes have meaning Does their design Which I like for some …
The burnt out house next door, Is the only neighbor he’s know The gang colors on his jacket The only fashion he wants – Life is a five mile radius The Persian Gulf and Siberia might as well be mars Life is here, life is now A career is a perverse hope – To be …
The buttons stared back at me melancholically. I’m not sure what their fucking problem is, but clearly something is on their mind. Perhaps just a reflection of the observer- casting my own weariness upon their polished faces. I sighed. Seems that, again, my mind was wandering down some strange rabbit hole. Down to some place …
The porcine face of humanity has an awful tendency to resist makeup. The rouge and eyeliner just don’t seem to adhere. Lipstick too, always a shade off. This judgement isn’t one of taste, no. Taste can be rationalized, taste can be debated. Taste can be bad, of course, but in its existence as taste it …
The radio was playing the weirdest shit. Some strange tunes that seem to repeat. I swear they only have 3 songs, albeit long ones, that keep playing on repeat. Everytime I hear the cycle repeat I look at the radio increasingly more perplexed. An hour later when she came home I relayed the story to …
I heard her strum from the next room. I heard the drone strings hum their tune under the melody she picked out. It seemed to be a melancholy song, almost nostalgic- a tango played on a sitar. I liked the tune. It sounded like Gardel and Shankar had a jam session. I stood up and …