If time is a circle
If the sky and the land are the same
If all minds come from the same space
Then who is Larry?
A man snores, a sheep cries.
Nobody knows everybody
Everybody knows no different
Katz!
I needed to sound impressive
So I made a lie.
I threw up on the street as it crawled out my mouth.
This version of me was really impressive,
I needed to show I was interested
So I made a lie
I sneezed and watched it sprawl out, wiggle, and twitch to its feet
Dripping but free, it was so completely interested, believe me
I needed to cover these stories
So I made lies to cover those other lies
I picked wax from my ears and so they were born
The two from each ear covered holes with their feet Continue reading
There is a stool stretching out on the floor
There are broken guitars and accordions on the walls
There are stickers with false hopes on windows and doors
There are posters of people I don’t know
There spits a man pretending to play the saxophone
There are no zoos in this underground
There is walking, talking meat sliding down the stairs
There are gates which open only for those with nice handwriting
There is no writing on the walls to compare, only numbers which mean everything to anyone who cares
And the welcome mat on the ceiling greets only those who look down
It’s home
If you walk with me
you’ll be lost with me
If you talk with me
you’ll be lost with me
If you eat with me
you’ll be lost with me
If you live with me
you’ll be lost with me
If you look at me
you’ll see through me
Here he is, the ideal man. Continue reading
We’re dancing in time, we’re dancing tonight. She holds onto my hands, I hold onto her sight. The room is small, the drunks are tall, and we’re in the middle of it all. Fairy Lights paint the mood, and the jazz is smooth, and if this is jazz, I like it, someone says.
I run to the bar and ask for a small coke. The bar girl is lost in thought, thinking about how people called Barbara were once young. She snaps out of it after I say small coke for the fifth time, for the final rhyme. Excuse me? she asks. A small what? She wonders aloud. Continue reading
Mmm, I love those vibrations.
Oh yes, I let them run all over my body.
It’s such a buzz to feel it on my throat.
I get high from down below.
You can even add a sound, it creates double the fun they say.
These good vibrations come from different places, different times, and different faces.
It’s not the content, but the sensation.
It’s not the context, but the gratification.
And when I see her there, those vibrations aren’t there.
So I just want to go home, to look forward to feeling more.
But they are no longer there.
