I 

walk the streets 

of Laredo

Galveston 

and Peru

There ain't nothing for me here

I 

walk the streets 

of Cheyenne

Bixby

and Biloxi

Bath water bay

I 

fish outside

Marathon

Pensacola 

and Baton Legosi

Hook 'em in the mouth

The drunken boat

knows no Redskins

just Latinos

Portagees 

and a Greek named Clyde

Who never drove a car

 

 I 

wobble

I

    weeble 

    I 

  fall 

down

     My

knee 

knows

   which

 way it

  goes 

    hit yr

   head

  Yr

   dead

    No

  Redos 

Difi 

  DO's

   Get outta jail for

A

Knee

 card

 

 Round 

    $&

   round

round we

  go

  where we stop

nobody know

   Sleep my dear

for the long

  nights are here

black

  black

    black

Whatever

     Whatever

         Whatever

Whoop

     Whoop

         Whoop

 

 The

forgotful rain

brushed your hair

and kicked you to the curb

Your leather Tbird

didn't matter

There was no reminding

There was no reassuring

There was no reason

for any of it

You started the Tbird and started to 

think about Suede

and how rain affects him

 

 

 Along

Night

sky

   A night

life

tortured

A

braggadocio 

a penumbra 

of 

fortune

   gaping

forth

    the 

  Ruminant

The 

Machiavelli 

 the

 Frank

Frazetta 

   book

  The 

dripping 

Roger

   the 

Windsor-Smith

Conans

   A 

Bus

to Hayward

across

from 

7-11

  a day

Out of 

The 

backwater

  suburbia

to

Moe's 

cigar

  And 

street 

vendors

 Woops a 

  dizzy left

my come comraderie

headed to 

   advance to age a thon

      and pressed daggers  

      and pecan pie

        To a Mrs 

     who shall remain 

     shameless

          The resulting arc

          of the coven

         And pluses and ripple

       fare the well 

      MY HONEY

             MY DEAR

 

 Bursted 

bromidious 

  in axeual 

   tediaty

   Kryme 

donut

paes 

  Countries

& 

birds &

   mountains 

of cellophanewrappedcash

   in DC 9's 

To yer mom

Mudda fubba 

 

 

 

 

 I've

Broken the synapse 

Recording

    ex

 Echos 

   Of  

Lazy thought 

tried

and 

tried

 to fill 

my time

    but no luck

So ladies

    what's the story

    oh you're boring 

     You go to bed at 7 pm

     you can't hang in crowded

Venues

   it's like you know what you 

like if that ain't it 

You're outta there

Huh 

 

 the prairies

literary

fields of books about

Hunger

  You wipe the sweat off your brow

   You smile at the grasshopper

     You barekick roundhouse honky tonks 

        You watch a Canadian tuxedo in New Mexico

helping the poor liberal school kids 

    the girl who wanted to see it cries