caveman's daydreammisery carved into our faces we line the platformwaiting for the train sunlight happily smiling downoppressive heat igniting humidityas we try desperately to look tortured to be alive.I look behind, down the terminal at the standing massesstretching for eons and see decrepit cripplesclutching alms corpses rotting in the raincadavers and bones strewn like Froebel giftsdust blasted by dry winds onto our granite slabreceding into a shallow sea its frothy surf washing upthe dead.the train arrives, the doors hiss open and chokin
Old DreamsSometimes I dream of childhood of mornings staying homefrom school being sick or faking itof spring mud the first snow the first day of schoolSaturday morning cartoons Ninja Turtles and Batmanof hot summer rains tranquil sun-showersbike rides down alleys scraped knees and wood chipsbleeding fire hydrants of detention of book reportssnowballs and forts of pillows or cardboardof birthdays arms set in casts until the Autumn coming fast.
The Techno Cavemanrhythms primordial ooze drug induced dreamtimeinterstellar grooves melodic harmoniessmoked trip-hall crowd throbbing wooferpainting eardrums sexual war-machinenight glow wall drawings temporal green and violetpetroglyphs manifest on empty canvasturntable domination injecting filthy
Chiba 4th of JulyChiba 4th of JulyIWe found a place that sold fireworks2 a.m. ShibuyaI relieved myself on the streetin the interima long stream of urinewound its way down the sidewalk into the gutterpast ancient upturned eavesneon signs androids and samurai.Fireworks in the trunk we escapedthree wanderlust ex-patstwo Tokyo hipster chickshopping karaoke undergroundtheme bars slamming downconcoctions beakers and test tubesEiffel's doppelganger loomed in glass valleysocculted by incandescent megaliths in short interludes.Sipping warm beers we back seat jammedAmerican rock music sunglasses nigh
The Six Trees04.12.07Laying under its behemoth,our heads reeled gentlydrunkenships in a sullen harbor.The peace we found was intoxicating,but how we came to this tranquility isbewildering. One might say it was innocentour play in the fluorescence abound,under incandescent lamps condemningthe night into exile, shunning itinto alleys and doorways,and up into the sky above,a carapace of clouds, a slab of slate. Laughing and grinning wide,we hover down this neon jungle,dense with vines of orange,dangling from magenta limbs,lacing our pupils with a haze. Spiraling logarithmiccrepusc
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