jambled incorrect notes
hanging and waver; they leave
i could give you a song or a rhythm
i'm gon' find my baby
'fore that sun goes down

and it's dark outside
raining, i think about a man
homeless, pissing in the street
police, public exposure, but nobody offered him
a lavatory?

gradients, i feel dumb
cliche experimental but it
pays the rent
still it's schizotypal

a frame on the wall says
elitnacrem on the other side of a window
a country store scene

tell me, what you mean, your elan
i know it by heart and take my time with this
looting an old man's home with my
sanguine choler melas phlegm
humour disposition feeling form
but now i'm stretching, finger-scrapes bottom
of the barrel

severing heads with a wrecking crew
interpret the wood panels, all the colors
of the rainbow, you see a dumb gradient
not the colors of the seasons, you're a zombie
to cures of mine unknown
just because i never fixed myself

expanding
expanding
ex-pandine

and all of a sudden
garbled message, wrong sender
i SNAP like overwound
this is incredible, wounding falling
and i know why this all happens
can't keep it in an order now
it's so much later and late??? this is not me
my heart pounds crazy, fearing
panic panic this is crazy
get the mindless

over with and then actually take
a hit by stooping to it--call call i need

to calm down and think rationally but my
plan is still on get the mindless over with
my growlery to plug my emotions away
before it comes a flood
"it looks like everybody in this whole round world
they're down on me"

nothing nothing why
is there nothing to listen to
my own words, hours absent from present
ring back clear sharp with hissing
stab heartstrings WHAT do i fucking do
hesitate don't

go

ignored and absent from knowledge
this is the last memory
passing through years from now
of what was?

how do i see that, why do i predict that first
it's masculinity/pessimism
rising up and smashing down hope
like a discarded cigarette on a brick wall
flurry of sparks
hiss

cinders fall down un-noticably scorching
the greased used pavement
he wanders down to main
it's some time after midnight
but his watch is busted
so lights another (last) smoke and
hopes for easy-going policemen
or kind 24-hour clerks,
cutting him a break

"cash is short" he mutters, chuckling frustratedly
calmed and pondering, nostalgia washes over
and he remembers a time when he was less
vintaged and wizened and easily
frightened although he sometimes
thought himself a tregetour
and he had been scared, like the child
he really was
but away with those thoughts,
he reached a place of warmth
pulled one last drag, stamped inside as
cinders, falling...

oh,

is that the truth? how it is, -?
why would they dodge me, a problem,
not a comrade?
i feel overstrained and obsolete now
discarded still, but with purpose
so retire to miasma
minor keys and
jambled incorrect notes.

10/27/2006

Author's Note: epic?

Posted on 10/28/2006
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