the mad bonger he says sitting injun style cross legged on the rock overlooking blue springs the white river sand blending in with the dark thin porous soil supporting cypress trees cypress knees young girls on their knees pine trees spanish moss spanish bayonets spanish pussy black pussy white pussy hell it’s all pink on the inside pussy willows ferns poison ivy poison oak and blackberry bushes pushing against the dirt road littered with old crushed beer and soda cans cigarette butts potato chip bags giving lie to the seventies’ hype about the natural rustic beauty of the rural south a few old tires peeking out from beneath the briars moss growing from within reaching out from their north side cracks

an old washing machine sits serenely within the chilling chokehold of kudzu

two mismatched deteriorating nylon socks clinging to the spindle entwined with the voracious vine hanging on hugging tightly in places loosely in others simply

surviving

like two lovers living two lives

the mad bonger he says rather starts to say instead watches preppie george finish off his beer crush the aluminum against his forehead absently toss it on the ground two south florida new york long island hippies point complain whine moan george flips them off with disdain his middle finger extended arm angled straight down wrist held below the belt the blow me message directly connected to his cock we all laugh tell the hippies to fuck off go back to new york and save the world it’s nineteen seventy seven in south georgia north florida the russians and chinese are going to fuck us up anyway fuck us up with missiles and submarines and the gulag way before some stray consumer container will capture our collective concern

we’re more worried about getting stoned waste our minds just enough so we won’t have to worry about such shit gimme a candy jar full of blue valium and bootleg disco biscuits gimme a cow field after a good summer afternoon rain gimme a bag of panama red colombian gold jamaican wonder hell even mexican brown we’ll deal with the world in our own sweet way

one two three four country joe is a fucking whore five six seven eight god is dead we’re way too late we are redneck punks preceding the pistols hiding behind the plastic peace love and tie dye passed along to us by our older california cousins their communes crumbling in the calamity of charles manson their music turning sappy and corporate pablo cruise and the eagles suck our souls dry

simple man don’t need ‘em around anyhow

molly hatchet would have sang holiday in cambodia if they gave a shit but they don’t and we don't we don't give a shit about

nothin'

the mad bonger he says sitting injun style on the rock overlooking the springs filling up a big old sink hole must be eighty feet across eighty feet deep crystal cool blue water feeding into miles and miles of underground caverns tunnels roads to hell flowing up and out into the bend that collects the black soup of the withlacootchie river a giant prehistoric garr breaks the lipton tea surface before diving back down below to feast on the rotting carcasses of fish fowl and beast maybe human too who the fuck knows anything about this litter along the bottom piss and primodial shit melting into the future

the mad bonger he says flick flick flicking his bic flame to bowl lips to tube it will take me years and years to admit cop to the autoerotic allure such a pose presents leaning over the water bubbling gurgling like he’s gagging on his own cock it’s everyman’s dream to give himself a blow job god if only eye had the right combination of proper technique and an extra large cock hell even a respectfully large cock flame to bowl lips to tube

the mad bonger he pauses he says hey let’s take a road trip

wild trombone man he says standing alert holding up the pine tree with his shoulder ankles crossed in that casual lean he’s always so stylish in that momma still buys my clothes sort of way everyone else hell we’re all wearing cutoff jeans it’s the john denver seventies nineteen seventy seven the summer thereof a full decade past that proverbial summer of love summer of lies them cutoffs they be cut mighty short redneck fashion balls and ass hanging proudly our own american flag faggot ugly but we were cute goddamn cute in that don’t give a fuck pop me a bud from the cooler peter frampton coming alive through someone’s car speakers sort of way cutoff jeans no shoes no shirt maybe the occasional zeppelin or skynnrd or dark side of the moon tee shirt long haired scraggly bearded bone skinny stoners hanging in the north florida sun

but not wild trombone man

he’s wearing white tennis shorts with pockets and an eye zod shirt he’s got that gee cue blond hair combed to the side the only clue that he’s one of us is the fucked up grin that sort of cocks to one side and the eyes that sparkle purple an effect due perhaps to some magical blend of his baby blues and the bright ganja glowing maze of red vessels in the sea of white eyeball

wild trombone man he says with a cocky wave of his gooseneck bud he says not knowing what we know now not knowing then that he’d find himself employed by georgia power as a so called nuclear safety check bio technician wandering around the huge expanse of the vidalia nuclear plant on the night shift dragging thirty gallon garbage bags filled with nitrous stopping on a regular basis to medicate himself against the future holocaust three mile island fresh on our minds tis no wonder why those onions are so freakishly sweet

god if eye had a whippet right now

wild trombone man he says standing at the edges he is the voice of practical wisdom he is the voice of the world to come he is the voice of a timid jimmy carter lusting in his heart not yet in his hand he says

i’m in

me hell eye’m already signed up eye’m easy the mad bonger a couple of years older than us matriculating at valdosta state college studying criminal justice a mad man who left his rocker later down the life road fell into the ditch of time lost to most of us the mad bonger  he sits cross legged on the rock a wide brimmed leather hippie cowboy hat perched atop his raggedy noggin long black frizzy hair flying everywhere whenever he walks into a room he brings his own ecosystem gurgle gurgle bubblicious he exhales a plume of smoke read by the seminoles sitting around their own spirit rock the next county over

dot dot thumpa thumpa scratch the clouds kiss the sky do the hustle

the bee gees are god’s joke on us all they opened the world up to having sex with little boys transvestites and skinny old men in bus depots goddamn opium is so much better than heroin don’t you think

whatever happened to piss and vinegar

whatever happened to love and chastity

jim thompson painted a picture so dark and gritty elle ay is not part of my world california is not in my worldview eye read tom wolfe eye read electric kool aid acid test eye read ken kesey eye read one flew over the cuckoo’s nest eye dig it eye do eye dig the whole merry prankster just pretend it ain’t there just drop enough acid and the world’s problems don’t fucking matter philosophy punk is pink and eye don’t even know the meaning of the word eye listened to the ramones and the good rats before eye ever heard of the butthole surfers oberlin college is for faggots if you want to play music just get a guitar plug it in sing about fishing fighting and fucking

long hair is all about getting laid

me hell eye’m already signed up eye’m easy the mad bonger he points at my cuda he says yo tea man you driving eye grin deep from within baby faced cheeks sun faded peach fuzz whiskers and shoulder length curls eye say yeah man eye’m driving eye’ll drive us straight to hell it’s got to be better than this place let’s go just tell me

where we headed

wild trombone man he says hey i got a county map three nebutols and a six pack mad bonger he says i got ten joints rolled thirty seven dollars and my old man’s gas card me eye got car keys and two days off from work

the seminoles they got a raw deal now they got casinos

a loud piercing rebel yell scream breaks through the planning exercise we look up some white boy soars through the air ay bee sea wild world of sports joy of victory agony of defeat cliffs of acapulco beautiful swan dive from the sun bleached water logged wooden perch eighty feet up the tree a splish a splash bubbles ripples three days later he emerges from the dead sitteth at the right hand of god almighty father son holy fucking ghost

three people in black rubber suits emerge from a ford econoline van sporting indiana license plates northern sophisticate thrill seekers carrying heavy tanks and flippers making their way down the path to the water they are on their own they seek to dive deep into the springs explore the secret of the caves maybe fuck a manatee odds are they will stir up some watery dusty silt get confused lost forget which way is up down in out

another dead tourist

and we could give a shit what’s a dead yankee to us they get angry when the locals make fun of them the way they talk their aversion to grits their lack of understanding of basic manners they act superior and offended when we do a rising shotgun on the flat rocks reaching out cantilevered out over the water squatting down head between our knees hyperventilating rushing our breath in out in out in out standing up rising as we inhale a stream of reefer smoke being shotgunned from an inversely mouthed joint yet another homoerotic stoner’s dream come true they get pissed when we do our rising shotgun nearly pass out fall into the icy spring water the cold rush of stoned to straight as vicious as straight to stoned fall splash flailing in the water where they seek solace and peace and the thrill of exploration

hey cave diving is dangerous they want us to know

fuck we know it’s asshole danger idiot danger down in them caves that’s why we don’t do it stupid fucking yankees we emerge from the water shake our soaking rat’s nest of hair like the dogs we are spraying water all over their store bought cave maps and dive books we take deep breaths play gator swim deep follow them part of the way down dropping underwater trou mooning their pioneer facades with ass and attitude an afternoon fight would only break the monotony

fuck dude eye’m on ludes


you can’t hurt me eye’m the original rubber band man you’ll be doing me a favor eye shouldn’t be driving anyway

the afternoon fades

the road trip fades with it

red haired weather comes stumbling down the path a mostly empty bottle of jack daniels in his hand the top long since lost he’s mumbling something swinging his free fist at the air mumbling i ain’t studdin’ you motherfucking faggot yankee bastards i’ll fuck your sister and mother and great aunt louise if i goddamn feel like it he perks up when he sees us his grimace turning to grin hey cuz big ton he done left me drove off with some strange blonde chick who wanted to fuck can’t say i blame him hey cuz how about a ride home his red curly mullet falling down on his tanned shoulders he is a green eyed scotch irish god with a tobacco picking tan

he stops spreads his arms wide looks up to the sky and howls

goddamn i’m drunk

all he wants is to get in a fight so he can sober up before going into the fields tomorrow ain’t nothing worse than being sloshed sifting through sand for bottom leaf snakes and spiders sliding through the weeds while the bastard sun sucks what little life the bottle didn’t take

nothing worse than the realization that this is as good as it gets summer sundays sure fuck the mondays some of us have escape plans eye’m going to college in the fall off to atlanta little do eye know eye ain’t coming back wild trombone mad bonger preppie george we’re all going to college red haired weather he can barely read recognizes his whiskey bottle by the color and shape

road trip forgotten we nod eye nod

we finish the beer we pop the nebutols anyway we fire up a couple of the joints we pile into the car eye’m driving we let red hair weather sit up front the others crawl into the back behind the bucket seats the naugahide sticking to sweaty thighs allman brothers in the eight track we take forty one north to avoid the state troopers setting speed traps the roads curve along the river valleys and swampy bogs

the back end slides from beneath us eye turn the wheels into the slide each time windows open early evening air pouring through a hot cold furnace red hair weather has one hand on the dash holding steady my three eighteen four barrel bursting with madness pine trees appear as dusky ghosts through the front windshield in the rear view mirror

a lone hawk glides over a fallow field

duane and dickie slide their steel guitars greg ties himself to a whipping post we’re all tied to this fucking whipping post sometimes we just feel like we’re tied to a whipping post

goddamn

the pine trees line up on either side of the road all in rows and columns prisoners awaiting execution rusty dead cars and dead car parts litter the ditches regularly spaced randomly applied three dimensional tattoos permanently staining the landscape the body of some drunken carny strewn across the linoleum floor of the doublewide it’s recognizable as nature but something just don’t look right

red hair weather he bolts upright fist to mouth at first biting the knuckle next his hand spreading across the gaping hole gasping for breath breathing faster and faster no one really notices he whispering dude pull over he yelling dude pull over he screaming dude pull over no one hearing him until it’s too late he’s leaning out the window eye’m doing eighty ninety miles an hour down a rough tar and gravel road

he spews vomit 

out the window into the south georgia summer eve setting sun glowing red over the swamp spews chunky jack daniels potato chip and slim jim vomit out the window it pours out his mouth images of astronauts in space weightless pouring of tang from those cool space age pouches pours out of his mouth out into the evening back in through the rear window splatters across my naugahide splatters onto the passed out drunken sleeping mugs of the mad bonger and wild trombone man

chunky monkeys

big red falls into his seat matted hair back against the cushioned head rest he looks at me he grins he says wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he says

goddamn i feel better

he leans over look back between the seats at his two victims mutters whoa sorry cuz falls back into his seat looks at me one more time hits the last of the jack bottle throws it out the window at a road sign declaring the road county maintained we’re going too fast to hear the crash of glass bottle on rusty tin pops a pepsi cola chugs it half way down looks at me again he says pushing in the lighter waiting waiting waiting open up the box of cigs fires up a marlboro red drags deeply exhales he says

goddamn i feel better

eye glance in my rear view mirror the boys sleep peacefully the wind blows the stench of vomit on out behind us eye grin take his cigarette and nod yeah eye say wiping the filter of whatever shit is on his lips eye say

eye feel good too

blue springs sunday and all that

she says through silk lips soft eyes gazing through the window at the billowing white cotton balls floating in the sky bright on top from the sun’s glance dark on the bottom with pent up desire dark of mood angry mad thunder and lightening she says touching my arm in that way she does that way that whispers love care longing she says 

we must be in heaven

eye say yeah eye know eye think yeah tis no wonder eye’m in love 

driving down through georgia through the evening sun through the wiregrass and pines the rain just passed the rain on its way summer in georgia the rain it just comes and goes whenever wherever it wants a fickle meandering whoring housecat in heat wandering from home to home wondering what dish awaits this house has tuna that house has puss ‘n boots

oh baby eye do dig it when you wear those sexy boots 

did you really buy them for me c’mere lemme put a feather in your hat c’mere my sexy puss n’ boots roll on over here let me rub your tummy roll on over here let me lick the edges seal the deal roll on over here let me fill you up roll on over here sugar you be a tempest in a teapot you be temptation in a church dress

walking through the airport walking through the parking lot walking through the hotel walking through taco mac walking through shoneys the young black men the young black women some of them more than one enough to notice they wear tee shirts adorned with the likeness the image of jimi hendrix himself his silhouette inked onto the fabric there he is the seventies white college boy hero dose up check out fly high if six were nine eye don’t mind 

jimi he so black me eye’m so black my mood it’s so fucking black eye’m so in love eye’m way too old to be this much in love doctor bill he says hey you’re just too much in love ain’t that a fine how do you do

she holds my hand eye drive 

south through the darkness down eye seventy five we pass through macon she says hey baby i never been south not in the real south i never been to tobacco road eye wink eye grin eye say girlfriend when eye fuck you the way eye do when eye bite your ear hold you down me your rottweiller you my bitch when eye growl whisper tales of lust and dread and darkness when eye tell you such goings ons when eye sing of love and rockets and mosquitos baby when eye take you there when eye spin you round click your heels three times sugar you’re walking naked and wounded on tobacco road yeah you been to tobacco road eye tell her

macon is the gate to hell itself 

all ye who pass are doomed to a memory draped with chigger filled spanish moss forever illuminated by a moon of submission doomed to spiritual cockroaches palmetto bugs prancing about on exoskeleton appendages tip toeing gingerly around along the crevices of the soul yes yes yes sew your eyelids shut do not be deceived by her beauty do not fall for her allure she is a fucking cunt mata hari she will murmur seductive phrases while twisting the piano wire around your throat

forgive me jesus for eye cannot breathe 

if all the hippies cut off all their hair eye don’t care

baby eye will shave your head slide a chain through pierced nipples lead you down drag you down that tobacco road come on baby smile for me when eye take away your hood careful the sun it’s bright 

eye can read in the bright sunlight god he writes in the clouds our father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name our mother who art in misery fallow be thy loins my girlfriend who wraps her legs around me deep be her desire

she says i crave you bubba tee eye say 

take me home country road

take me home to valdosta georgia it ain’t home really home is where the heart is eye left my heart in san francisco eye been in san francisco going on twenty five years eye lived in valdosta four years of high school eye went to college eye visited on occasion my dog he’s dead my momma she’s dead my daddy he’s dead my brother he moved away to 

baton rouge ma chere

eye drive by my old house on carolyn terrace two thousand and two two double oh two my phone number nine one two two four four five nine two two so many numbers so small an understanding eye drive by my old house up on the hill the yard is untended grass is spotty and brown and green and the palm trees stand side by side with the loblolly pines and azaleas and spanish bayonets and those fucking ferns 

eye wonder if the neighbor behind the house still has that big ass bug light up on the pole nights long ago up in my bed upstairs window looking out onto the purple black light the mosquitos and moths and lightening bugs floating by entranced fatal attraction every few minutes the crackling zap of another fried flying creature

eye wake from nightmares sordid dreams spellbound on a chessboard entwined with electric fencing eye struggle to squeeze between the strands the back of my hand scrapes beneath smoke pours from my ears homer on hot sauce hallucinogens eye am but a pawn 

ah my queen m’lady lay your blessing upon me protect me from my past protect me from my future

praise be blessed be wrassle a gator skin a snake see kay he got a zebra skin on his floor he got a wart hawg head on his wall he got a fish jumping o’er a stick near the staircase big tall wall he got an elk above his fireplace eye bet that thing the fireplace not the elk eye bet it burns eight foot logs put a razorback on a spit turn it slow turn it slow turn it slow 

the fatty juice drips and sizzles in the flame

we brunch like civilized people in the big house by the lake big tall wall his momma his wife his forty seven kids his brother see kay his sugary wife who eye coveted way back when we kissed once we fondled we smiled one brief night such a while ago eye had long hair so did she wink and grin she found her true love in see kay 

cool and groovy it took me a while eye found mine

doctor bill he says he says hey you’re just too much in love eye’m so in love eye’m way too old to be this much in love doctor bill he says hey you’re just too much in love ain’t that a fine how do you do 

she holds my hand eye drive

that’s the valdosta daily times building eye worked there one winter eye was the basketball sportswriter eye sat in the newsroom on tuesday and friday nights eye took calls from the local high school coaches they’d tell me what happened in the game eye’d write up some exciting story yeah old billy bob he led his wildcats to victory over the bulldogs with a final hard driving lay up down the alley twist and shout baby once a week they’d send me out to do 

a feature story

like the time eye interviewed the coach of the local christian academy he told me of god’s grace leading his team to victory eye asked him if god really wanted him and his boys to win he asked me if eye had been saved eye told him eye saved images of little girls at their first communion precious little things in their precious little communion dresses all white and virginal goddamn eye told him eye saved those images in my spank bank 

but eye don’t share so he better not ask

and if the sun refused to shine eye don’t mind eye don’t mind 

that’s the movie theater where they tried to show life of brian way back when the local preachers they got together they created a stir they generated some old fashioned biblical outrage cried blasphemy baptist ayatollahs putting a fatwa on monty python be still my heart

that’s where the once and future mayor nijem sold us beer and liquor long before we began shaving but well after we had begun spanking the monkey eye stroked my cock every day that eye lived in valdosta eye just couldn’t help myself 

that’s one of the fields where we picked mushrooms where we donned our shit kicking boots where we kicked cow shit plopped mushroom caps into paper bags for safekeeping where my little brother was shot with rock salt where my brain turned into hot bubbling cheese grits

cause eye got my own world to live through and eye ain’t going to copy you 

we go to a class reunion class of nineteen and seventy seven phatmike he was a honor graduate phatmike he was a governor’s honors student phatmike he was on the math team phatmike he was a longhaired stoner who got kicked out of school phatmike and big tall wall and stew the rabbit we drove into school every morning in my nineteen seventy one barracuda white with naugahide interior eye bet see kay probably killed himself some nauga’s has one on his wall somewhere we drove in every morning sometimes we’d let cricket ride with us but he had to bring joints already rolled

we get our picture taken we eat bad fried chicken the butter beans they be good three tables full of black folks three tables full of white folks never the twain shall meet we ended up at a table with are see and his wife from early county she dressed as a mennonite we didn’t know it was a costume party we chit chatted they said hang around you’ll win the prize for coming the furthest we left twas a dubious honor to covet love me tender chicken tenders a dubious honor indeed 

we get up early the next morning we drive north not quite to alaska but to atlanta we stop at the magnolia plantation my sweet tea she say she has to buy souvenirs for the chirren me eye buy jars of vidalia onion relish ginger fig preserves green pepper jelly eye be so happy eye do love my fig preserves eye like them on toast

the tea ess ay they take them away from me at the airport 

they say rules is rules eye ask for the supervisor eye remind him that eye have jacked my jism into each and everyone of those jars so he best not be taking them home to the missus

unless she likes it that way 

we get on the plane eye pass a landmark of sorts a badge of honor it is not but on the return eye pass the million mile mark on united eye think eye get a certificate of achievement a commemorative tattoo that reads what an idiot flying united a million miles and he keeps coming back for more

if the mountains fell into the sea let it be it ain’t me 

on the plane on the way home she says through silk lips soft eyes gazing through the window at the billowing white cotton balls floating in the sky bright on top from the sun’s glance dark on the bottom with pent up desire dark of mood angry mad thunder and lightening she says touching my arm in that way she does that way that whispers love care longing she says

we must be in heaven 

shit eye’m gonna wave my freak flag high

eye’m so in love eye’m way too old to be this much in love doctor bill he says hey you’re just too much in love ain’t that a fine how do you do 

thirty years south georgia swamps and love and rockets and all that

whirlwind whirlybird

jew lie fourth it’s a glorious day it’s a glorious morning love and rockets gives me morning wood all dressed up nowhere to go up way too early maybe just up way too late goddamn get up just as the fucking paper arrives my cock in full sail beneath shorts just slipped on seconds before it’s a shame eye should download some porn take care of that thing

what’s become of the world eye got no time to visit the spank bank eye got no time to make out with myself a little self loving eye hate having no time to jack off instead eye’m stumbling around on the sidewalk looking for my times all neatly wrapped in that tell tale blue plastic bag that let’s the world know that eye am one urbane sophisticated phatfuck with a liberal bend way too fucking early
 
these are the mornings though

these san francisco mornings when eye can walk down the sidewalk barefooted without that gingerly two step toe to heel foot to foot one two one two fucking feet aren’t like they used to be when eye was but a stupid yard monkey back home didn’t wear anything but a pair of cut off jeans from the time school let out til the time we had to go back

not counting church

but fuck in the long run chuch didn’t count anyway out running around the countryside filthy dirty wandering through the woods along the creeks building shit up tearing shit down blowing shit up with em eighties and firecrackers throwing bottle rockets at each other from across the yard eye never met someone who lost their fucking eye yeah always heard the stories there was always one concerned parent

usually some jerk dad who had moved down from up north

yeah sure every once and a while one of us had our bells rung got a little too close fuse went a little too fast what the fuck childhood used to be a darwinian contest only the fit the smart the lucky survived fuck throw in incubators car seats bike helmets outlawing firecrackers transfats and metal edged toys hell even the scrawny fucks make it through

goddamn eye miss blowing shit up

now hell we’re all so fucking civilized eye just want to know who’s got the crack who’s got the crank who’s got the smack just fuck me up death hell it fucks me up on jew lie third eye watched a jew lie down in the ground he ain’t never going to get up graveyard way up on a hillside out in the east bay through the tunnel the father of a friend well a sort of friend she kind of went the way of the gun ah these break ups they do force sides to be chosen the victim the perp the sun so fucking hot sixty five in the city ninety five on the hillside eye gotta get the fuck off this hill

eye’m in a nice black suit black kipah fuck even the goddamned rabbi is in shirt sleeves in god’s hillside oven out here in the ain’t it beautiful suburbs

goddamn eye miss blowing shit up

eye stood to the back people murmured ain’t it beautiful eye couldn’t think anything other than yeah yeah what a fucking waste lord when eye go just have ‘em splash on a little turpentine flick a match toast some marshmallows drop trou take a piss plant a tree on the spot the world it spun before eye was born the world it will keep on spinning when eye’m gone

death it fucks me up goddamn eye’m dizzy

drive home to my exile death eye can’t let it go my man pete sitting on the bench overlooking the water sipping on coffee taking a drag on his american spirit he’s such a patriotic smoker he says hey that’s just where we are used to be weddings now it’s funerals people are dropping all around us we’re in survival mode my man keep your head and butt down while we crawl through the muck and mire

death it still fucks me up gonna be hiding from her the rest of our lives

drive home here to my exile two bowls smoked up stay up way too late can't sleep don't know why it's oh kay gives me a chance to think things through maybe not through not all the way through but at least bounce around think about her gives me a chance to kick back close my eyes and ask myself hey why do eye dig this girl so much

she just fucks me up

eye don't know why really eye can't put my finger on it nothing specific eye mean eye can't say it's her eyes those beautiful blue green sparkles that make me tinkerbell dizzy eye mean eye can't say it's that infectious giggle that just makes me grin from ear to ear eye mean i can't say it's that stink eye that eye catch every now and then that stink eye that makes her so fucking sexy eye mean eye can't say it's the way she barks at me to fuck her harder

eye mean eye can't say it's any one of those things she just fucks me up

eye guess they all just add up to some big old bowl of love with some chopped up cherries and strawberries mixed in some blueberries and blackberries aw sugar knows how much eye love berries baby sit down with that big old bowl with a big old spoon dig right in slurp it up got my face down in the bowl right down in it so eye don't spill a drop eye'm selfish that way eye want it all mizzus please ma'am let me have it all just sitting here in my exile thinking about her

eye mean eye don’t know why eye think about her so much shit she just fucks me up she ain’t never here she’s in my mind more than in my arms maybe that’s how you keep something alive

whirlwind whirlybird

it’s all part of some master plan that is working out eye guess she says what the fuck eye just read the new york times sitting on my lily white ass on my lily white throne in my most sincere sophisticated urbane repose complete with recycled toilet paper from trader joes because eye care and nothing says it like recycled toilet paper it’s a fucking sacrifice it ain’t exactly charmin baby eye use the rough stuff on my ass for my children and my children’s children eye’m just made that way just the kind of guy eye am and eye want everyone to know it

it’s all about image baby

just like driving a prius just like wearing hemp just like asking for paper just like tsk tsk’ing the dude with his coffee in a styrofoam cup just like wearing that tee shirt from the gap with the red ball just like buying carbon units when you fly who has time to change the world when eye can’t even afford to change my mind

just like words when that’s all we have

the new york times it says little joey frederick he ain’t allowed to express himself he can’t tell the world to give jesus a bong hit

personally eye think jesus was due a little medical marijuana

eye mean the jew lies on the fourth love and rockets and patriotism and god and country and flags and fags it’s a national holiday it’s a day to rejoice celebrate our independence revel in our freedom blow something up by the dawn’s early light and all that shit a nation born beneath the rockets red glare running errands stopping for coffee hitting the ay tea em deposit extract

dance faggot dance

two people out on the sidewalk a couple perhaps boy girl man woman kind of in between don’t you know she wears a dartmouth sweatshirt he sports wisps of a beard and mustache to with his rasta locks that rolled poured from beneath his big puffy knit jamaican green orange black hat funny since eye have black uhuru on the stereo as eye drive by on cabrillo slowly

watching

she up on a skateboard giggling off balance facing him on terra firma holding on to her singing rhymes of assurance hands on her waist she who wiggles while she giggles is it love is it romance does he merely want to eat her underpants eye pray for all three the skateboard slips out from under her skidding down the walk she falls he catches they kiss eye drive on down the road

another love story left behind

love it fucks me up she yeah she fucks me up

earlier days ago she tells me stories tells me stories of texas of old drug addict boyfriends and lovers past of family woes tales as fucked up as mine the sun pours over the bed golden morning margarine spread thick and warm melting melting she says touching me pointing to a spot on my chest she says hey look we have similar birthmarks we might have been twins separated at birth you might be fucking your sister eye say leaning over to kiss her naked tit eye say

cool

she smacks me calls me a hillbilly pervert she from her suburban paradise in the midwest corn fed and happy didn’t truman capote write about murderous shit happening in them cornfields we all got a fucked up history we all are running from our past we all are running from death

where the fuck do we hide hell we can’t even offer jesus a bong hit baby eye just want to be your drug addict boyfriend that’s all

love and rockets and the fourth of july and all that