SUBSTANCIAL REFERENCE IN LEISURE

i bought a poster today
for my wall
dead cheap from a guy
who came selling it
to buy his fix
the poster shows all races of dogs
in a luxurious living room
carpets, cartains and a fireplace
and all the dogs snuggle around it

what the artist couldn't portray
remains now outside of the piece of art;
me, the junky, our fair trade and the place in my wall
where all of us now
seem to hang from

I'M ALL AWARE OF CUPID, BUT, I CAN ONLY SEE THE DEVIL IN MY MIRROR

You are the world
I am the sea
where
the world will drown in

There's no logic in love
I fly solo for a long time now and
The sky is such
a desolate place

To your awareness
Wings are like shoes
They're only sold in pairs, yet
Their utility varies in lack
You can walk with one shoe
but never fly with one wing

Rephrase the inventory
We don't exist in existence
We are ideas
Body/Mind/Soul
All
Useless
Affirmatives
In
Negative
Calculations

GLOWING BLACK

Now that the windows are crackling
now that the cats are meowing
the phonebooth stays unvisited
only brochures of hookers and trash inhabit its ever exchanging square
we are stilted behind our windowshields
like these low payed prostitutes of the brochures
visionless eyes
waiting for the wind to blow our hair
and tear down these walls
where our fears breed in

Afraid to leave our place in case the electricity might cut off
the television might close
our empty lives we'll turn black and white again
and the only friends we ever had
visionless eyes
interrupted only by the commercials
will get more things to do
rather than staring at the ceiling
waiting for it to fall
on our heads.

BROKEN TRADITIONS

the rain was pissing right outside of my window today
then she,
she passed outside my front yard
i have faith, o' faith
then the rain,
the rain continued getting heavier right outside of my window

BAD EDUCATION, SMOKING IN THE TOILETS.

I hate the kids more than i hate myself,
yet i love the kids more than anyone else.

SPRING WALTZ

we wrote the songs that you hear on the radio
during the spring we hijacked on trains
in the back of the locomotives
we washed our livers with booze
left the parliaments to the ones that already had them
we felt the fresh air hitting our face
and we passed through the sunflowers
we crossed the cornfields
we hit on stranger's doors
and on the floors that we slept, we pissed
never wanting to go back again
always chasing something new
amongst the ripped shirts and the silences
as the bats waltzed around the electricity pillars
and the abandoned trucks mourned their merciless fate
we wrote the songs that make you cry
on the day our fathers died