monday, june 13th
a thin layer of dirt on everything.
***
an evening in moose pass
"there's nothing left in
that pantry, 'cept an
empty bottle o' whiskey"
zip dee doo on the kazoo
shit.
bells... bicycle bells
ba-ringgg
***
I'll never leave your pizza burnin'
Walk for miles, my stomach's hurtin'
All I want is for you to make food for me
***
7/4
waves in the pavement and wild flowers
van doors swingin' open; no one lives a life quite like ours
***
after a grandslam and an ol' rasputin
you look upon these words:
"You are marvelous - the gods wait to
Delight in you." - Bukowski
the other day i listened to my fathers rolled stoned record/and i sang about pizza and blamed it on my father/when disbelieving friends /demanded explanation i backpedaled,/and blamed it on driving around in a providence with your mother.
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