Bottle kids

Rejoice. rejoice. let the rats all comfort you.

This time living's the only thing to do. the only good thing, anyway.

Sure you can kick the can. prick fate and end the ho hum havoc of a one way street. choke off. fall flat. die gasping the insufferable whim of one too broken down to try breathing for fear, this once, you might do a damn thing right.

But fuck it. fuck all. the whole storming drag and pipes that dragged you this far out in the world.

The means of surrender are designed with the hopeless in mind. the uninspired. unimpressed. unwelcome mess who made it all a red shit-faced little guignol.

So let them have it

The cheap heaven of a steady hand.

And rise up to break your glass again.

Zen and the Art of Breaking Everything in this Room.mp3



Drum beats and the days go on in years and years until all six are gone and you're on your way to the western lands that held my hand and golden brow just long enough to learn there's no reason to go back. no call to arm such errant troubles.

Prickly wombs and mending trees.

Some shores belong to the bearded young. some to the concrete rent that makes us monsters. fakers. tired eyed destinies hallowed the red palm of my hand and the clouds come to kiss off the stumbling ides of summertime.

Who would drink the blood of fortune. level sutured arms in a kiss.

Razed mountain men. women. children dyed in avenues laughing the sirens calling come home again.

Still proud. still terrified. waving at the window wishing goodnight, friend.


So Long, Lonesome.mp3