SOMEWHERE BETWEEN KEROUAC AND BUKOWSKI...
...always snubbed the "fine literature"...dammit...boogie, what's fine is just dandy...like, when it sounds like it's projected on the walls, not like mad-man graffiti, but the suburban hoax pasted on billboards of family time spent jammed on the highway packed with sunday moms and cracker-box dads where every word sounds like it was filtered through walt disney land...
...and peace talks a whole lot of retroactive movements, a WHOLE BUNCH OF BULL-SHIT TRASH...but within all of those yard sale signs...you can always find that once piece of memory that someone let go of...the trophy of the next dream-surfer collecting star-dust...
...discovered the art of zen when i first read alan watts..."wisdom of insecurity"...a cheap toss of 50 cents...lent it out to a girl who kept saying she wanted to fuck me. and i sort of fell in love with her for the fact that she was tiny, had a cute face, and was bare-chested. she fucked me, alright...she took the book and i never heard from her again....i'm amazed by bigger portions of coffee i light at with this empty table...discovered kerouac before i hit rock bottom...
...feeling down and low, i read some bukowski. the book sitting on the shelf for ages... and suddenly i can fuck again and have my first orgasm on my own. dammit, boogie!
...always snubbed the "fine literature"...dammit...boogie, what's fine is just dandy...like, when it sounds like it's projected on the walls, not like mad-man graffiti, but the suburban hoax pasted on billboards of family time spent jammed on the highway packed with sunday moms and cracker-box dads where every word sounds like it was filtered through walt disney land...
...and peace talks a whole lot of retroactive movements, a WHOLE BUNCH OF BULL-SHIT TRASH...but within all of those yard sale signs...you can always find that once piece of memory that someone let go of...the trophy of the next dream-surfer collecting star-dust...
...discovered the art of zen when i first read alan watts..."wisdom of insecurity"...a cheap toss of 50 cents...lent it out to a girl who kept saying she wanted to fuck me. and i sort of fell in love with her for the fact that she was tiny, had a cute face, and was bare-chested. she fucked me, alright...she took the book and i never heard from her again....i'm amazed by bigger portions of coffee i light at with this empty table...discovered kerouac before i hit rock bottom...
...feeling down and low, i read some bukowski. the book sitting on the shelf for ages... and suddenly i can fuck again and have my first orgasm on my own. dammit, boogie!
