Seattle

Oh, it's Fall, alright. In between the downpours, thunderstorms, and heavy winds, I've found warmth to grasp to. October showers and Amaretto Sours. Beneath my feet, is cracked and soaked concrete etched with initals dated 1993. My words just linger on the tip of my tounge so much, I can only illustrate my frustration through a grin, as I exhale my soul. My earlobes are a tomato red and my nose lost it's color before i walked out the door. My feet struggle in these Bo-Bo's meant for surfboarders and Sailors. Sometimes, this weather makes me wish i lived in seattle.

10/17

The feedback covers my thoughts spread out through this small, over crowded house show. I tried to kiss her but she turned away saying "it doesn't feel right". I can't remember the things I said. The drinks blur out everything, and I've got the headache to prove it. She lingers around trolley stops, and the taste of this Chesterfield (the beer, not the cigarette) that leaves a smile on my face. I was always bad at first impressions.

Swaggers

A swagger layered in cheap liquor. My lifesavings is in debt to bar tabs, and Marlboro Miles. Painted by the neon, and burdend by apathy. My only vice is breathing. This self-destruction is a necessity. I'm known to smile as often as groundhogs see their shadows. Six more weeks of winter...

What I Wish I Could Hear Pt. I

"Can you hear the ringing of the church bells? I remember when faith was found in the hands we shook. Now, I find it in the bottom of a bottle, and the slow burn of cowboy killers...

Listen, kid. The world is a horrible place. This is the way God intended it. We scrutinize each other, while the murderers, theives, rapists, and purists run free. If bliss is what you want, then remember this...

Ignorance is bliss. The martyr is a damn fool. Take it from me. Wake up everyday. Smile, and remain aware. Nothing can scare them more, kid. Nothing WILL scare them more."

Smokey Orange

I stretched my legs to touch the floor. The blinds, half opened, help to form a weak shadow along these smokey orange walls. My finger tips smell of pot resin and whiskey. I guess those thoughts finally took their toll on me. Laying back in bed, I trace the cracks along the walls. I find it gives me a sense of direction at a time that makes no sense at all. But where do i begin? I am a friend I was meant to forget.

Nauseated head, sick to my stomach, and filled with the chirps of birds perched on powerlines. Singing psalms to the sneakers hanging beside them. I'm alive.

Heroin Sheik, My Arm!

It's been dull around here these past few years. Same old shows, same old jokes. That seems to be the way it goes. Maybe it's just me, but what ever happened to this community? If I broke out and left this city, would you remember me? A license is useless when I'm made of excuses. I've got nothing stopping me, but my own conformity.

Grow up, work my job. Save my money, fall in love. Have some kids, and build my fence. Take no chance on how to live. Get a mortgage, pay the bills. Work overtime just to feel fulfilled. Repeat the history my parents taught me. Take no chance. Just live comfortably.

Dictated Puff Piece

Lets paint our cars up with flames and decal them with honor student stickers and religious concerns, while our highways and crime rates plow through our very own back yards. The patron ratio of graveyards and bars is starting to landslide but the real estate's still killing. Lofts for 600,000 meanwhile the inner city's schools are losing heat. New subjects this year: Surviving The Homeland, and StreetMmarketing. hat if words ended wars? What if the paths we crossed were just that and nothing more?