Save the night for the howl of my soul
My utter hole
That has an inescapable way
Of night
From day
The destruction I cause
The pass the pause
I want this
What it is it?
Fuck if I ever know
All I say is
GO GO
And this I bestow the
HAUNTING
Fuck of the nightmare of
LUCK
To dine and die
To live alone and
CRY
Yet all is fine
I will
DINE
In the midsts of myself
And let it eat me
Like none other to
BEAT
me…
DIE this yellow soul
KILL
This
YELLOW
hole.
Excerpt via next novella:
I saw kids in the streets screaming for reform… I walked and saw people screaming for reverse reform. I was a bit like: well if I can work I shall work. I took my part. Mary Ann, she did not. She was the wreckless dame I was seeing. Or was she seeing me? I bet I was still a fuck on her radar. She preferred my cool at instant moments of vapor in which we denied ever knowing it happened. But her cool was in attracting the kind with sailing adventures of suits, slicked back hair and timeless dives that used to serve as heroin dens (NY metaphor for gentrification of the cool). Only to have become the newest luxury sports bar in terms of sophistication and crowd. I was but the written fuck on the side map to her 30 something special of complete autonomy of self. That is to live within blogs and be stylish and smile in her designer consumptions of meaningless waste.
Love clash the shadows of the objectivity of the now.
The idea of the forlorn romance we seek.
The anticipation of the life we too want to trace.
Dawn captures the faces of the newborn soul.
Tracing with it the cast of the next new feeling.
The embrace of the next new sight.
The wish of each new embrace.
The wonder of every shining face.
de Balzac.
Tell me more.
Consumer fetish.
Window hear out.
Alex
I have broken down
For many reasons
The thought
The anxiety the self
The pity
From killing
To pleasure
To pain
To back again
And yet the thought has never
Ever struck me
As it has tonight
The thought
The feeling
The light
I feel pain
Even fright
I feel remorse
There is no delight
In your agony
In our defeat
And yet I love you
No matter
What we meet
The hot brain
Tense thought remorse
Like the train
Hot coal
The course
We carry on
And yonder love
Through push
Come light
Come shove
And yet its you
I hold above
Your unconditional love
It is a masterpiece
So shining through
No even some lyrical
Ba ha hum can do
And I want
Try misconstrue
But tonight
I always think of you
I love you
jugger-nut.
garage door.
