donate to ya boy

Wednesday, March 2, 2011


drank everclear,
sunkist and pineapple juice
smoked reds and veiwed david lynch shorts
we talked about future,
our generation
and our favorite cannibus at the moment (blue dream)
smoked camel wides into these brisk ohio nights
the bar habit occurs to me...
as we break into budwiser in the morning
ive been writing all day...but nothing really of importance
wendys,(other corprate name)
these american days are the FUCKING same across the
united states
im irate as i swig back and veiw
zach and lou
they remind me why i love this life..why I live my time out for
Austins on my mind?
i may be in Denver by sunday.
i may be at the white house by morning
protesting my education and well being up to this point
living off guadelupe in a co-op
standing on 16th with "the end is near" scribbled on cardboard
im so fucked in the head
I NEED another joint (blue dream)
want IT to become legal because i know the consequense...i know the outcome
thats when
I wake when the movies done
one of the few hours of my life when I can become lumber
im limber in the day light
full of mumbles
exposing trouble
rumbleing with the tough and fucked up crowd of the winter
eyes as wild as the carlsbad caverns
my senses are keen
as quiet as a coma
loads of words i wish i had yelled into the deaf years of yesterday
ripe with the auromas of blood loss in the new millineium
give me another key bump of whatever youve got
later tonight in the whore you pretend is a lover
bump fists with the guy youve been traveling with who wants to leave you at every rest stop.

its hard to be my friend


  1. Lyrical and motile; enjoyed, as always. Motley! Cheeseburgers to ya. Here - passin you this. Later.