"I like your nose, kid. it's fuckin' sexy." NOLA is crust punk heaven hilarious filled with idiots filled with booze saint patrick’s day green three days early two dollar beers at the bodega heart ache fades into the brown bag getting lifted and lighter who knows what's inside? everyone knows. ride a bike with a saxophone strapped to your back clarinet music stand one hand steering straight handle bars hung high mothers and daughters little kids riding a bus spitting onto the pavement stop to count the collected humans learn something new about god. stop to watch your thought know nothing new about self nothing but the same lust the same trust in faith spirit world to ignore transient imagination and listen “how you been, man?” standard greeting. “what do you play?” drum talk "we get wasted and play trad jazz.” put it on a press kit “what is ratchet?” ratchet is: a bus full of eight year olds spitting boogers onto the pavement. we’re celebrating the shrimp and petroleum festival say hello to the gulf of mexico “smells like pizza.” you could buy a car everyone plays trombone. hand in pocket hustlin’ for gigs “see that guy?” old family batiste he plays guitar. lucky strike cross legged kundalini seated on the street. foot traffic sequin sandal boat shoe green socks puma nike nike adidas bought skittles little girl candy box rainbow love chihuahua dog walk working life white shirt black jacket black tie. first break six “we got some jazz there.” next break seven “this is jazz and blues, pick one you like.” pack up eight. mother daughter what happens “hold up, baby. who is that?” camera lens snipe shot candid corner photographer cellphone clutched snap stalking wild human harley davidson helmet dangling no danger mother daughter checkin’ the scene thumbing your pockets real grand hot pants toe gaze fake moustache real world walking down frenchmen my bucket hole in it whole in it passion pen well red late night lamp lurkers start early start often everyone knows. nashville cowboy hats look like plastic bead necklace new orleans solo trombone keepin the street alive “he said eight o clock” stumbling dog sweater talkin’ shop bubbling youth mumbling you understand everyone knows. everybody selling something pit bull babies new souls wandering jesus look at these young dogs “you want her? she’s for sale!” she’s too young. “buy this dog!” soda pop truck utility belt suspenders everyone knows. magnet glass mirrors rearrange space honest accepting vision free or at cost do not tax us old soldier blue flag pocket ragged “you got a cigarette? you got some weed? I got some hash. I got some coke.” baking soda and oragel two boxes of tomatoes mothers and daughters eight thirty in the morning eighty next week “why do you like playing in the street?” the people.

wishing good dreams on the dreamers who will have no more and no need for material means but true joy peace sparkling for eternity which needs no sparkle but accepts the gesture as flattering imitation and now accepts silence as a balance point for meaning shifting emphasis and so change is infinitely unchanged viewed complete only as one nothing disappears just as nothing appears nothing was anything anyhow so it must be everything always and so the dreamer is free from rigid imaginings like time measurements physical barriers bodily conduct geographic location because the dreamer has awakened bliss saying “let the dream be dreamed by other dreamers for now” love is no mystery you are not you loving her but we are yourself loving everything as remembrance of unity spiraling truth blooming unnumbered manifestations as evidence for scientific evaluation glory in all aspects singing vibrant blues within deep rainbow music and man cannot live on bread alone so he is nourished by his dedication sustained by the better angels of his nature and how the waves soak the beach sand the man is completed but still imperfect and striving anyway connecting dots dabbling a loose rendition of cosmic knowledge exploring the outerverse innerverse verse chorus verse verse then the bird takes flight sing on, charlie humming vibrations into a dense fog no longer limited by perceptions which may cloud human organs but now free pure energy light rays riding across infinity indefinitely because definition is exactly the opposite of infinity because infinity is all knowing, all seeing, all tasting touching feeling smelling wishing hoping laughing crying coughing in the morning staring into the moon crackin’ wise with the boys and rolling cigarettes till dawn everything and everyone else, too the women, children, dogs, cats, elephants, fruit flies everything it’s all going it’s all happening way out and forever so tune in and say hello this is your friendly radioman welcoming you to continuous broadcast wishing you a wonderful eternity with fair weather and an open heart amen

a shrug of the shoulders a flick of the wrist a gun in a holster a barrel of fish cash rules everything being poor is a bitch trickle down economics is a fancy way to say you can eat my shit you can struggle to catch the carrot tied to the stick but the lord owns the land you're just paying him for it you can save your wage but the bank owns the money they tell you what it's worth they're playing us all for dummies mortgage back securities were only a hint banks don't serve customers they collude and get rich they get caught and walk with a slap on the wrists selling drugs is a crime with a minimum mandatory laundering cash for drug dealers is a business decision self explanatory HSBC handled money for terrorists the US department of justice found them guilty of this Lanny Bruer explained how the size of the fish is a direct inverse to the size of the punishment two billion dollars from a bank is kind of a joke it's like going to Buffalo and taking home two buckets of snow two billion dollars sounds like a lot to the man on the street two billion dollars is what HSBC earns in five weeks (that's profit, not revenue) this is not a theory it's not even a secret financiers world-wide have a reputation for thieving take money to make money it's a no-brainer like breathing purchasing political power while the government's still greedy god forbid good ethics get elected this season the dollar bill is the god we trust and believe in when money is power power doesn't need reason fiat currency means it's created when needed but those who need it most are the least likely to see it people are hungry and bleeding and the solutions are easy you give them food water shelter medical treatment you look them in the eye like a fellow human being instead of a worthless hypothetical burden on an economic fantasy so deranged and perverted we actually budget for institutional murder I'm not saying that I'm perfect but I'm actively working to become a better person if you agree with me then we can join forces spread a message of truth with the power of two voices and if you've got friends you can get together with them and the louder your love gets the stronger you transmit until your heart grows to eclipse the size of your clenched fist you can put that on a flag and wave it.

SHE IS BEAUTIFUL when she walked in I did not see her when I turned to my right she appeared the first thing I noticed was her left cheek and in that small glimpse I saw her in psychic fantasy vibrant waves flowing toward me and I knew SHE IS BEAUTIFUL when I looked again she was dancing and I stared at her the second thing I noticed were her eyes wearing the wealth of years and I thought she is not as young as I had first imagined when I looked again she was staring at me the third thing I noticed was her mind spilling insecurity across the conversation and I thought how sad it is to listen to her doubts wounding her natural grace so I told her that I knew SHE IS BEAUTIFUL the next thing I noticed was my body rising flush with blood warm skin and I felt desire tempered by prudence confidence blended with anxiety she asked for my name that I gave to her she asked for a glass of wine that I also gave to her she asked for my name again but I had no more to give when she said goodnight I kissed her left cheek she seemed confused and I wonder what story she will tell to herself to others but I hope she will know SHE IS BEAUTIFUL 19JAN2015 Sarasota FL

painted desert / petrified forest driving desperate beauty relentless sun fierce wind slicing through bright warmth behold the immense weight of emptiness desolate but not lifeless desert life determines appropriate scale urban american psychology presumes un developed under utilized expecting a wealth of something everything heaped into dense collections of sight and substance as the city piles onto itself as the suburban strips unfurl rolling swiftly toward un sustainable the desert resolves itself with implicit logic subtle as a purple succulent sprouting between pebbles two ravens observing a tourist with intelligent interest abundance balanced against the sparse resources of an environment which fluctuates extreme temperature and moisture on a daily basis the desert is not greedy it knows when enough is enough when enough is too much when the human settlements run dry drained of their adolescent optimism the desert will accept a blessing of towering shade crude artifacts of a long suffering society vestigal organs placed into historical context alongside a fading generation which slowly legalized man's worst behaviours. bank u s bank c h a s e w el ls f rgo m idfirst bank fallen letters disappearing into a wash of punishing light.

Jesus Was Way Cool by John S Hall (King Missile) Jesus was way cool Everybody liked Jesus Everybody wanted to hang out with him Anything he wanted to do, he did He turned water into wine And if he wanted to He could have turned wheat into marijuana Or sugar into cocaine Or vitamin pills into amphetamines He walked on the water And swam on the land He would tell these stories And people would listen He was really cool If you were blind or lame You just went to Jesus And he would put his hands on you And you would be healed That's so cool He could've played guitar better than Hendrix He could've told the future He could've baked the most delicious cake in the world He could've scored more goals than Wayne Gretzky He could've danced better than Barishnikov Jesus could have been funnier than any comedian you can think of Jesus was way cool He told people to eat his body and drink his blood That's so cool Jesus was so cool But then some people got jealous of how cool he was So they killed him But then he rose from the dead He rose from the dead, danced around Then went up to heaven I mean, that's so cool Jesus was way cool No wonder there are so many Christians

lonely woman cries into a dark wind sounding across the evening air as lamenting church bells marking time for those who care to listen her voice is trembled by speed and distance and it remains powerful growing more significant by every measure of softness because dirty habits die hard lingering vice compliments a sincere longing filling an empty condition with conventional poison consumption every exception inching closer toward a suitable level of noise background radiation providing a sense of communion to the yawning vessel which eventually tips from imbalance overfill splashing into ground again until rising vapor catches her pulse lonely woman projecting her heart through it all shaking gently until feeling returns most men will confront a vacant chalice with desire imagining substance to the be the ultimate answer lonely woman cries because she knows what evils lurk in the hearts of men she forgives them regardless offering love unconditional patience extending into infinity knowing the moment is now always was ever will be outside time there is no waiting

what does a blind cat dream? imagine your waking world burst into blackness high pressure heart shattering the scenery your kingdom reduced to a few small rooms bumping into walls to find your way and never again will you see the face of any friend but you can hear the birds outside laughing at you because your teeth are piercing only frozen meat and your claws are ragged night is no different than day but quieter and the rain spills a deafening blur against the metal rooftop blinking out of habit feeling the moisture and the motion until dreams come more vivid than memory oak trees towering overhead begonias wavering huge and gentle and a grey squirrel delightfully ignorant easily taken grey fur opening grey fur pink tongue tasting pink flesh red paws printing a path back to green shade a nap in a fantasy awakened back to blank 19 JAN 2015 Parrish FL

do•lor•ous adjective \ˈdō-lə-rəs also ˈdä-\ causing, marked by, or expressing misery or grief.

forgive a stranger his strangeness in an unfeeling world that cares NOT for stories and people but stranger still stand their judgments forgiven as the tide forgives foreshortened or prolonged protested or accepted as undeniable fate swarming around a bit of indulgence here chosen as desired or undesirable or interesting welcome all the same and beaten and changed and chained to events as sane as anyone could claim to be wondering all the time or firmly decided that truly and surely and honestly right is right and we know and we believe how could we go on otherwise? in another direction that truly and surely and honestly is right and right is right and we know and how could you forget? the great lessons of history keep occurring forgiven as the tide forgives