ecumenical

i'm going to be a catholic priest.
no more women, just
booze and drugs
the way of a
true catholic!

Test phone post

welcome to the future, i'm the captain

i don't think that anything is important anymore.
caution, meet the wind. it's a steady breeze
a drink.
i'll play music, and the rest of it.
women, debauchery
it will come and go. the wind, have you met
?
i've met it, tossed about, gale force wind
the only stable thing
the wind
the world gasping at the horrors
my horrors; i've given them to the earth.
i've been to the edge, looked over
walked away. kept. going.
come and gone. going. going. going.

the dreary snow blanketing the meadow like a veil of crushing silence

as it comes
we watch it. it goes

and it's been years
absolute years

but ... an engineer. creating new products
it's beyond me

the law

the average time before computer
hardware becomes
outdated. obsolete. archaic.

6 months
a year? maybe a year

goodnight, on the shelf
shit
dust. collecting it

sound about right; it sounds right
about

these parts
engineering marvels by
masters of technology

6 months

a year
fading like a burnt out bulb

a pop
some glass
darkness

oh right

and it's the moment
of no return

past it on the left, the
event horizon. cascade of dark light
dimming with the distance
put in between
two points

this is this is this
is it
i can laugh and chuckle
choke
and dance

and sing
but the stage
i haven't got the stage
or the audience

monday

with no food and no water.
without the light that usually presents itself. none. with none.
not the ability to get down the stairs, even. tea. television
those are what i have

traces still
a line floating down
through the morning light,
no shadow

stalking the mirrors
the thought
the alcoves

i wonder
had that been seen
among the few, established
was it
listed. enscribed. noted

a minor key
and cool like a breeze
headache

this is

i want the telemarketers to call
me
but they don't

they call taylor,
but he doesn't let
me
talk to them

usually.

i want to tell them to get off of the phone
outside, coffee, walking, sunlight
more important than phone calls

so get off of the phone
get off

the distance of shade

midnight
on the curb, again
blurry

do you see them? there? them?
them
they're blurry

but it's futile to tell
you that they, them
that they're blurry

you know already

it feels like then sometimes like that was that and it was it

it's the feeling in my stomach
the one
that

tells me
that i haven't; i have
now i have to go. to caress the path. road. trail into
the depths of this forest.

it's darker here. at night
and in the backseat
intersection, road ahead

but it isn't like the cloudy days
in the rain

left to stare upward, green trees
gray skies

pay

the only
thing that i like

about

my

paycheck is the money
in

but opening
perforated edges, three of

fuck that

stored

blinking
with memories

with subtle hints
at the past

blinking
it's that
casual stroll
if you can call the stroll casual.

not a long stroll, but still
blinking

friends let

If you're offered a
chance, going, a drink, that
take the chance
taken

it's the music
isn't it?

why is it that
?
that
out of all of it.

suddenly this hits
and it took a glimpse at.
it took a car ride

it took the street lights at
night. yellow. the curb. distance
it took that

good for you

i have this bottle
and i have this mug a
coffee mug


also, scissors music harddrive whirring
the harddrive is old

the bottle is empty
and the mug is too
hot to
drink from


If. I. Were. just to drink it it
would burn my tongue
and my tongue already hurts

It hurts plenty, don't worry about it