Christmas lights and Jesus Christ

Sleeping trees and rocks

We glow like anthills and mass old visions - we say our dreams but never do them because we love to dream but are too stopped to act.

Eye spied her.
I am looking at Venus
and Venus is looking at me.

All the stars feel each other
with equal clarity.

I am looking at the spider,
and the spider is looking at me.

A half-dead lime tree, half-alive
and the spider is in me
and the ants eat the bees.

I am looking at Venus,
and Venus is looking at me.

There are craters in the concrete.

-October 27th, 2010

Lightness

"Its all so absurd"

Here's a poem.

HAPPY BEERTHDAY FROM BEARDSDAY!

courtesy of Mark Morones.

Information
DARK STAR
SEE
BLIND MYSTICS
DRAWING
ENDLESS SEAS
A CIRCLE TURNED
INTO ITSELF
ONCE MORE
INTO
ITSELF
AND
god
NEVER STOPS
SPEAKING

DARK SUN
EATING BOOKS
GIVE
US
god
AND WE SHALL
GIVE YOU
DEATH

BUT
DARK STAR
YOU HAVE NO
USE
FOR DEATH
SO KILL
US
INSTEAD
AND GIVE
me
GOD.

-October 6th, 2010

All love is masochism.

Fender Bender

I rear ended an asian man this morning on my way to school. Everything's fine, really.

My notebook is falling apart, but its survived three soakings, if you count the sweat from the show at the Aladdin Jr.

Four Hours to Kill
to walk through the hills
is what I've wanted to do
since I was a child
walk through the hills
as a child
but never have done
so golden, and green,
and real
and I'm no longer a child
so I drive through the streets
which are not the same
at all.

Troops.

1320 AM
Early morning terrors
ghosts and bad visions beset by a rough cough
but the road was empty
so I did 70 smoking 100’s
all smooth
watching the hills and hovel cities

trying to escape (for once)
the drunk and selfish nobles
by way of a northern ocean town
called Paso Robles.

-August 7th, 2010

Scotty
My room smells like bad coffee
which is better than
semen and shameful longing.

I pour a cup,
and remember that I need to
retrieve my flask
from Heidi —

the next time I’m out,
but booze would be alright
right now.

What do those old china men
know?

I gave them seventy-five cents
outside the dry cleaners,
and they told me to follow
the good

In my life
and I’ll be happy.

I try to call, but the rings
fall head first from the receiver,
like always.

Out a buck with the madness
creeping in, I try to remember
what I did yesterday
but cannot recall,
and shrugg.

Burning grass and wide eyes
while I pick up
some wet, wet whiskey
to fall into
amongst the cheap darkness.

-September 14th, 2010