original picture by Rob Banks
our Grady of perpetual (fill in the blank)
Civil Disobediance
gourmet two point oh
car titty and payday organs i thought i heard myself think under the bridge with the tents mushroomed through it dry cheap malt liquor atomizer scent the Nordstroms lobby of the poor crosswalk to the weed supplier across the street the line begins on 18th opposite the Toyota parts dealer scooter boys and eyelash girls the latest in street fashion Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle dolls Scooby Doo blankets fixed on car windows for privacy from the bleeding hearts and muskers with their guns ready for the crop shadows greased upon the pavement from the Great Depression and the miscellaneous gruel penny coffee who knew multibillion dollar hook to look good and begging cups with a winking siren who can’t scream at the scandal of it all starvation degradation insinuation of a world gone sane cardboard living is very thrilling for those who afford expensive drywall hung by the nephews of Cuauhtemoc before the Spaniards took the gold that now sits in microwaves next to Nancy’s expensive chest filled with 38 exuberant flavors
in one twenty twenty one
they the prophets write
words chilling to think all through
numb symbols of prole
could it be they be
saviours with synthetic inks
prayers that result
tragedy smiling
far out into the clouds go
fumes of redemption
season of promise
idols showing their true forms
flowers in the eyes
mother of pearl moon
tonight the uncertainty
oozes out surely
lost patience haiku
turn around i do
poison from a blue riot
to war i accept
utero nostri nova terrae tuae
Ben your leather apron
we blow at the match head
like a dandelion against the wind
three strangers one and three quarters
working lips ashes on one finger tip
book bag full of notes to rockstar
fantasies who wont ever get to kiss me
a game of snakes around the bend
32 dollars in my hand Lou you the man
ladies and rainbows sinners and thieves
carnival of man meat eaters
newspapers of the week my tired head
they serve as sheets
ghosts of the shit alley Riviera
cigars cigarettes commercial children in rain
hypothetical American dreams
polityrant money greed my soul to feed
into rooms of mystique where all
who knew too much will seep
into tabloid sensationalism
but we as cobweb kids know better
gourmet
car titty and payday organs i thought i heard myself think under the bridge with the tents mushroomed through it dry cheap malt liquor atomizer scent the Nordstroms lobby of the poor crosswalk to the weed supplier across the street the line begins on 18th opposite the Toyota parts dealer scooter boys and eyelash girls the latest in street fashion Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle dolls Scooby Doo blankets fixed on car windows for privacy from the bleeding hearts and muskers with their guns ready for the crop shadows greased upon the pavement from the Great Depression and the miscellaneous gruel penny coffee who knew multibillion dollar hook to look good and begging cups with a winking siren who can’t scream at the scandal of it all starvation degradation insinuation of a world gone sane cardboard living is very thrilling for those who afford expensive drywall hung by the nephews of Cuauhtemoc before the Spaniards took the gold that now sits in microwaves next to Nancy’s expensive chest filled with 38 exuberant flavors
all is possible
love knows no color
trees more tender than man’s heart
let’s open our minds
the brave his horse and an AJ brick building
burn
a fire erupted in Lebanon of which i know nothing of about it came in a dream i think i was half alive halfway gone into a forbidden slumber i thought about my life many many years back i thought about the people who have had an impact and how a lot of things went wrong i thought about the lucid dream i had of the bronze daughter of Eve Celedonia she called me by my true name she said your name is California i paid her no mind i thought it was just my acid trip and then reality struck upon my mortal lips i screamed like i had never screamed before Satan was laughing by my door and i saw myself burn never the houses of the rich and never the souls of the poor and always the souls of the rich are never to be found upon a cold and icy rest the bronze daughter of Eve Celedonia she called my name and said you are California blood will run through your face blood will run between your legs you are the nest of the trafficked California from head to toe said Celadonia you are damned you must fall you will fall onto the ocean of the tribal Kings that ruled this place so many years until Morrison sang about them
words less spoken 