...took a vacation day off Thursday/Friday so I could take mean old green pulp car into shop to have spot man eyeball clean engine with alchemy tool...the lounge water was good, all stalked with magazines with no sticky pages but I read the details of an exploding ticket instead...I pay mechanical man with high-end bill of elastic plastic and drive home feeling fuzzy like purple bunny...
...day folds strange with unfortunate news from Akron butterfly who's gotta spread sunny wings to Medina and tend with flower heart to an unexpected storm while I gots to unplug the plans for Saturday: a 90 mile pedal-foot northbound of cement trail and expensive fossil fuel...yet I still have a good tickle at my belly-throat with the melody of butterfly transmitted by green air-waves through brown smog-filled skies into ear piece...
...psychic mum calls around 8 wondering about the 70-mile drive and left my voice-box trading vowel sounds until 9...I eat strange left-over of artifact wrapped up like a round bed in ice-box of blue light, snuff down the particles and pass out in green bed and wake up at the dark-side of 1...strange nightmare of BTO (70's rock band) and dreamt I heard a new Zepplin tune...
...stare at the white gazed cyber world of another channel of a media-complex galaxy and grow hypnotized like a tv mind staring at and through static screen of crippled American dream and I dread that my brain may no longer fit this uncompressed head of mine if I go without 1980' s style MTV and go about sharing used toilet paper with degenerate nation of pause button pushes...
...and to top it off...google page goes black...energy hour I missed...
every colored light in the house goes on while I vacuum up every inch and hair of last month's snooze of every dust bunny hopping about the cat's curved tail...and I go sweep the baesment floor with mismarked produce thoughts in my mind like: I wish I had a face like Michael Stipe and then it could be done, I could shave my head without looking like a spider-monkey... and I go about thinking about that strange BTO nightmare and how the band's fifth album was never critically acclaimed...
...still up at noon on this strange weekend day...gonna peel away at wild banana and dream away..