GROOVY GRAVY and the THE BULLET TRAIN

GROOVY IS THE SOUND

YOUR FEET SKIP 

THE ROAD AHEAD LIES BEHIND

WHAT AN AWESOME TRIP

BEGONE CLOTHES, MAKE WITH THE STRIP

HOLD THE CABOOSE

HOLD YOUR OWN

NEED A COUCH

YOU CAN GET ONE ON LOAN

GOING GRAVY, GETTING GROWN

GORILLAS WITH GUNS

'EVER MAKING WITH THE JOKE

LUCY IS QUIET

GOLDFISH FEATHERS BULLET WHILE YOU STROKE

TOO FAST TOO HARD , UNTIL IT'S BROKE

RIDING, READING LIFT UP

ROARING, GEARING TO THE SUMMIT

PASSENGER TRAIN ON THE LEFT

OVER THE HILL TO PLUMMET

GIDDY UP, GUITAR STRUM IT.

Griddle play

there are days when all seems lost
There are times when you wonder
If you will last

Feelings running laps around your ever heavier soul
The starting pistol gripped in your hand
Knowing, but wondering still if it would do the trick

And then you smell,
The wonderful aroma, of breakfast being created
On the griddle

The griddle
Savior of days past
And days to come
The sizzle, you lose during the day, and into the disturbance
Of your sleep

The griddle that makes you
Wonder what could go wrong
The answer of course being everything

But for the moment

The griddle
Fills your being with hope
Gratitude, love
Yes love for the griddle,
Above all else.

The griddle

Fresco lightscore

tortured greystone , pockmarked granola
The grease of a millinea
Sandblown scar tissue of ancient scarabs
Filled with peanut butter

Pairs of watered pansies
Standing guard
Never realeased tissues branded with wheat based love
Keyboards plucking sound as
A ghastly tuned beam of  light
Measures the space between the
Teddy bears ears

Make haste, screams the mute lizards of the Sahara
Desert pie dessert heat it
Whomps the sky beaver
The time lost is never
A senselessness  subscriber of
Failed holograms
Beat  space beat space beat
Time differs to each persons peach cobbler
Eat well eat full
Worn down shoes made of
Used candy wrappers
Carried by pigeons
Through the navel
Of  a pig
Hear the qualms
Desire pestilence
Leave the crowded streets
Duck

Once a bun
Never a pepper
Through the wet light all shall see
The grace of Jimmie paper clip and wicker mall hall
Pterodactyls grace the placemat of jazz infused hollows
Great splat of booze sippysaucers grip the wheel, and yet
The tomcat spins

i saw something....

mom

dad

i'm afraid of the light

(why?)

i don't know exactly

(does it hurt your eyes?)

no...

(well, is it too bright?)

well...

i saw something the other day

(what was it?)

at first i thought it was 

animals fighting in the house

(oh! was it the dogs?)

no...

then i thought it was people fighting

...in your room....

(was someone in our room?)

yes

(who?) 

both of you.

you were screaming and thrashing about

(oh!)

i couldn't tell at first

you were biting each other and.....

(oh baby, you caught us fucking! sorry you had to see that, oh man I remember seeing my parents doing the horizontal boogie , ugh. flesh slapping together so hard and quick, the heavy labored breathing, the words coming out of their throats. the places things were going..... )

Rice Blisters

closing in

fading out

rancid spit

painful gout

rice, rice, rice

blistering maggots of decay follow you like an eveil aura 

melancholy tears

slide slowly

illusions of time

illusions of caring

welcome unto me

for i am who they wish to be

i would be the mega-ultra-super-overlord

of the rice

True Pudding

alligators swim in the sewers 

like 'squatch  drinking coffee in my favorite diner.

most people call him phil.

seldom are days when he decides he's had 

enough of the pudding served there 

for it is truly legendary

glimmering in the case as the jewel it is

on a slow spin

so that you can see it from every angle

the diner only serves the one flavor 

there is no need for another

perfection has been achieved