Say Cheese

We went for drinks mid afternoon at a usual hideout after one of her photography sessions
only she never put her camera away behind the familiar bright accent
so
the jukebox played away whilst knocking down pints,we hummed along as conversations twisted and convoluted into obnoxious laughs added to the two finger sign not for peace but bring two more pints of liquid art to the two maniacs on the end and add them to the pile of fast pass discussion glasses for it’s been a while and we have many important matters to speak on such as how to trick people into letting Monty Python’s god be stained window art in their chosen prayer domiciles
And all the drink flew away with the train cars of lost words into the evening street
Now being the quick artistic type,the camera was snapping the whole time as the mouth marathon went on and on
I fell right into the boat with my dear old shark mouth chomping with her Tipperary bit
We were only friends or just older souls who knew too much about nothing and the entire universe
the stills of my own face mid sentence,gesturing and laughing twists the uncomfortable nerve
for the life of me I can not tell you what type of dribbling nonsense I was on about as the sneaky camera caught it as the honesty ran away with the sincerity down to Ave.A and caught a cab
the mirror only answers to holder
and a camera catches the smallest angles of ourselves that only we know are true

Process a maybe

Her eyes fish bowled as she finished her pint to the bottom,it was fitting as she stared through me so I just ordered another round because I knew what was coming to come of this.I looked into my drink,I knew the magic 8 ball bauble was not going to appear with answers so I drank accordingly
The jukebox wasn’t helping and neither was the number of rounds i was calling for
“So what is it then?
and sister I’m a poet was not going to even get a smile cracked here
I inhaled my pint then set it down smoothly and took my next sip of the drink as if I never even switched glasses keeping my mouth full so I didn’t have to speak so quick and awkwardly
You would think someone who ran his mouth so fucking much he could spit something out and end the exchange but this was not so easy in this moment
“There is everything and nothing to know except I let everyone down in the end and no not the cliche bullshit way just in constant wave of unbalance in my eyes saving the world or hellfire cooking
silent days of don’t touch me for it pains me inside next to the already broken something the guy everyone loves until they begin to see he’s a false witness bearer to himself this is no hero the same as American idle
the right lighting makes everyone kissable pay no attention to the man who can’t get out of bed in the morning mourning days of lost lusting in the idea of getting lost nonexistent to days like these you know i love you
and i love her and Bunny you know I loved you fuck off Morrisey lines
keeping mute to hope everyone would follow suit the sound triggers the chain to buckle more under more weight
boxing the pretty fighter away who can only lift a coffee cup
the kid was just weird the same kid is still weird but now great depressional expectations odd
picking the soundtrack of your funeral those eyes hamster weeks wheel of days waiting for Mr. Death
hero in the speech a freak in the sheets the sad guy in the song routine gets antique hurting owners of this type of almost limited edition faux plate that is just the idea of love
for unlovable monsters that grow in the closets that no one likes to go in”
I kept quiet sipped my pint and waited

Salty air is a constant reminder of twirling coin toss that haunts of other outcomes and storyline where the known hero perishes passing along through the tales that everyone has on the beach
or
being overtaken by horrid tides of cars and rubbish sucked out into the skin of the abyss of the sea presumed missing whilst all the while struggling to stay sane repeating over and over a narrative that life went on into
daily life of the aftermath and all health effects in between trying with utmost balls to save everyone he could
as he did all along
with invention of said reality births the grinding days of corporate sodomy including the gimp suit and it’s a job mentality festering off to the side as he pains himself through sickness
fucking cowardly staying afloat with all the jellyfish,seaweed and krill like a suited shill would
would it better to have drowned in the initial tidal surge being johhny flash getting a statue of him put somewhere for neoyuppies can walk their puggles?
or is this all the aftermath

I asked for a coffe

Words get lost in the conversation ditches by the worn roadside benches
things awkward enough struggling to find the right sentences to convey exactly what is needing to be said
context out the window as emotions are contextually dyslexic and shattered as your Nanas’ fine china
tongue stumbling over the lost dictionary of the brain even if it was read aloud it would be gibberish
adjectives bursting in flames morphing into verbs with no clarity
all words lost from the intro

Caruso in Jade

There are colours passed the jaded faces of believers in D.boone
knassy knoll
kentucky blue grass green and no sign of a second shooter
mossy and scratchy like the Moss Man action figure
stumbling darker to emerald leafy pastures of
guilt tripped mint
the original quarry
boulders unfinished by the grinding of a earth tumbling or a shiny scrub
only echoing karaoke voices of Woody Guthrie,HR and Jim Carrol
Phil Ochs reading to the shabby stones
polishing them as past jaded as they were passed over
rocks deeper jade than racing green
jagged edges higher with a more abysmal color there’s a shadow
It is Joe Strummer blowing smoke to the moon laughing
Yelling in a soulful stern

WE ALL STARTED IN THE JADED NOT IN THE VICE OR VERSA
THIS GREEN KILLS FASCISTS