thank you! real life is funnier than fiction..

same as it ever was...

no, sorry. they all moved to ottumwa, iowa.

hey, you kicked me in the butt the other day, didn't you???

press the button
then think about it
the process should be reversed
but the pressure, the process, the push
feels so good
one man's pressure is another's massage
that push, a shove
the methods are flawed but the results might be
worth it
so i press again
then think about it...

you should know, if you can
i'm not the average man
who looks skyward for assistance
there will be resistance, i will walk my path
you are welcome at my side
but i will never hide behind words written
then misplaced, lost without a trace then found
and twisted
used to create fear
you choose what you will hear, and then we'll set our course
the words i choose are yours.

waving, moving like dancers, the grass
reflective green and brown
three feet high and rising
like david byrne wondering
"how did i get here" surrounded
all sides, path obscured
like someone wishes me to stay

my monitor just melted. nice!

you will eventually

she said "i'm not sure if i should
kiss you or slug you"
neither would be appropriate
20 years late, unanswered calls
fear, for her and myself
so tall and strong yet she
wasn't grown up
i could see, even then, too alike
and like minded.
"it could've been you" i disagree
an act of desperation became a fire
blown out almost before the heat
could be felt
so now, by chance, two very different people
meet again, this time realizing
within seconds
that things would be best left alone.
and i got a hug.

yes, i move, directed, belted in
three thousand pounds of good old fashioned
american ingenuity
surround me, vibrate me
i'm in control, to a certain extent
the conductor of an orchestra hell bent
on playing a different tune, breaking down with speed
so i give it what it needs, right foot
left foot, right hand, directing the mass
making a pass

i stood and looked from a distance
too many times lately
i've found myself looking at shadows of people
i loved, still love
looking now, close enough, unrecognizable
and empty, crumpled bag tossed aside
used up, no longer useful to the former occupant
standing free unseen, hopefully
watching the show
turning away, i unravel
too much, damn it, too much, now this again
and another look shows those walking that same direction
arriving too soon, no matter how far away
today i made a promise, there, to that shell
i once knew
live, she said, and don't concern yourself
with how it ends
i will, i said, and walked away, torn to pieces but still moving

poi dog ponering - bury me deep

1-800-the look

cursive - art is hard

sleeps with his teddy bear

buffalo tom - reason why

1-800-closeup

iron maiden - run to the hills

steamin' steph