I'm trying a new remedy for these thoughts
The reaction to reactionary symbols
No cause and I can't heal it
Thinking through how and what to tell them
Numbers nothing numbers nothing more
No census to take
my old brand new namesake I'm used to
It's all a mouthful to turn a phrase
The crowd in the hallway hears it
It's what I've got besides nothing to show and nothing for you
It's simple but it's true this time
This time I can't turn it
This is not standing still
An inside joke no joke I know
Choked up on an age too slow too old
Maja Kastler fine but then and now one step behind
Maja Kastler fine but still and then one step behind
A name called up your defence too much shit to mention
This is the air I used to vent that gave me my attention
75101
Burning Man
This is no action film
Carchases, crashes, falling through windows
Yet
here we see the burning man
Ten feet high or more as the flames grow
What kind of gesture is this?
A not-so-subtle form of protest
How could we have possible missed this?
The priests consumed on the Capital steps
Stand back away
Sparks shoot out from his wiry limbs
All that's left a pile of ashes grey as the dirt
Take this with a grain of salt or the entire shaker
Now I've seen it all everuything there is to see
Small wonder they've flipped their lids
You would to if you knew what they knew
They'll nickel and dime you
just to pass the time
You've got no recourse or a means to enforce
All these regulations and I'm losing my patience
Crazy legs pounding hands
Just a shell the heaviest of heavy men
He lives inside of his own mind
Comes around when he sends a telegram
Lit them up on the news
Now he only looks confused
A quote machine a crush machine
He used to be the great champion
Changed his name from Clay
Fought his way to fame
Never been the same
Cassius Clay's gold medal is at the bottom of the river
Changed his name to something foreign
Got hit so hard he can't remember
Propped him up like a new toy
Bounced him around til all his sense came out
Broke glass jaws while his ran on
Broke through walls a human bomb
He's type A patriot
Wearing thin in the warehouse district
Law abiding the organic law
Violence hiding in the warehouse district
Anger wells tomes say they'll meet
As we swallow the organic treats
Follow the law
Throw the bomb it's warm
Follow the law
Throw the bomb
Disease disease of the skin
It's happening happening again
Doctors I can't pay
It heals at night and opens in the day
Speed the matter to the other form
No thought but the body is warm
The hero of the modern age
Can I call to euthanize rage
Kevorkian changling in my sites
Switched at birth vendetta in mind
The way people grow up is wrong
Follow the law
Throw a bomb through the living room window
Stuck again in a sludgy bog
The metal ball-point is messy and clogged
The cursor stares back passively blinks
Deadline passed last week I think
A crumbling mess comes full-circle
Never makes it home
Holds it up examines close and opts to go it alone
Spread out too thin it causes distortion
Conical classic mercator projection
Blots on the cylinder drips as it dries
And blows out the size of the lows and the highs
Wrapped up and bound to the surface
Refusing to be torn from gravity
I try to stand down on pressure point
And remain quick but not too soon
Peeled clean spread out full heavy in four
I'll force you down Mercator
The crumbs for you
Love sliced in a pie graph
By sex shrink who don't give head
He is dissed booed down by the populists
Meade just ain't in this meathead
Work it fat waif
Through towers I see you're safe
I see with binoculars
The empty bottle I let you sip from from
The psychic therapist
The soundbite verdict
For the man in the bike club
She lives with a crumb
And she's living off the crumbs
Must we bring this tragedy to everyone?
She's wailing in the trailer
She lives with a crumb
The skullring indentation upside her fat waif face
Meet the sex therapist
Who never gave head
Talks on talk show libido
She lives with a crumb
She's sleeping with the crumbs
Must we bring this tragedy to everyone?
Driving westward bound on a highway
Painted rock the hillside is blasted through
It's stratified it's on it's side
A ranger I'd like to work here and show all the tourists around
Icicles hang sage horizons lay
I'll spot the brushfires from miles away
Monitor closely the colorful signs
The over-arching iron bridge
Through the narrow passage the scencery shines
Ametamorphic geo-clock tick
A century in a second
I found this old postcard
From my preschool days
In this age smoke plumes
When it builds up it does loom
I've got to learn how to sit
For my 15 minute
Temp work at the gallery
Alizarin but-tox oh so rosy
Word on the street is not micro
The Windsor is not familiar
Despot purges but no potholes
Got to get on the highway
Each cobblestone a sound bite
Got to get on the highway
I'm digital
And your pixies are pixels
I talk with my fingers
Can you hear these fingers
The ribbon
The literal ribbon
Soundformation
Can you hear the highway