and the 

 backs 

of 

the 

reminders 

were 

                         stopping the sense of/

we spoke with clarity 

                                   and a sense of righteousness

                as we parlayed

                                       with a sense of itself
                                         weapons grade negotiations
and trade agreements over eggs and kentucky ham
the slippage was erased
the starch was in the shirts
whiter than white
                          we texted bad jokes
 and complained about
                                    basketball games

mucho latte wrote the script
    we drank the drank
      you stank the stank

yo money buys a pretty whore boat
 you swim like a dolphin dressed in civil war array
clint eastwood burned the dynamite fuse
 and blondey screams
from good old tuco
 un-ka
un-ka
un-ka
 there's no name on it!!
in this world there are two types
those with guns and
those who dig

so  sweet holy Jesus
plastic jesus
on my dashboard
plastic hula dancer
on the road
to Pescadero
  

whither the calculated reality
       of wing-ed monkeys
iced coffee and a raisin swirl
 and listening to Miles Davis' albums from
the eighties
    on my phone
at the A's game we
sat in the wrong seats
and yelled too loudly
not to be noticed
   Em-Bryce the change
see the fog
in your heart
  know the path
to confusion
 and sadness
when one's life is in disrepair
  and sleeping is not the remedy
maybe buy an old swiss army
knife
and think about your dad

centrifugal
 forensics
      storming
           sensory overload
             zone
     pit bull anarchy
   backyard parties
    sweeping
 cross bred
undertow of
    discrepancies
  in non evaluative
 relationships-
   a clear mind is required -
 but the window won't close
 no matter how much you hate that


 

the small tracks,
   like chemtrails,
 marked a busy day
 he lit a cigarette
and listened to the traffic
 or maybe it was just the wind
 too much of nothing
these days

los rhodedendrons
 Tiré
en el jardín
  dos surfistas
fumado un tazón
y se echó en
la hierba verde
el sol caía con cansancio
en el cielo
de neblina
un coche salió por la culata
 y el perro saltó
nacimos en
 el invierno
   de ninguna lluvia

precipitice guinda
 una sequía
   de glaseado
          nos estamos muriendo de sed
    tener un tequila
                  Días de California!
          Ronald Reagan
                                 era un turd
conduce a El Cerrito
        
                Usted no puede permitirse el lujo de
  caminar en la calle
               y ese sol
        ¿por qué es tan brillante ?
   obtendrá el cáncer de piel
      si usted no tiene cuidado,
        
        Arroyo Seco hipódromo
         y las Salinas Rodeo
               ro - día -oh
                Rodee -oh
vamos a llamar todo el asunto fuera

we started and stooped down
to pick up
poor sad jesus christ
he was drunk again
and we didn't know what to do with him
so we said a prayer
...our father who art in heaven...
  we got jesus a cab and then we went
back to the casanova
to look for Z who told us she would be there
 charles lost his phone (again)
so we couldn't call her
  and she wasn't there
so we ordered another round
 when did they put televisions in this bar?

the rhodedendrons
 sniped
in the garden
  two surfers
smoked a bowl
and lay on
the green grass
the sun beat wearily
in the sky
of haze
a car backfired
 and the dog jumped
we were born in
 the winter
   of no rain

the flotsam of the harbor mimicked
the child's eyes
    as he stole a dollar from the
 church pew
he looked like a miniature Marlon Brando
   trying to memorize his line
he built a city in his mind
       by the ocean
           by the beach
not really a city
 just some small houses
near the beach
    for weeks he lived there
 in his mind
        
  

He balanced the city
on a cardboard cutout of
Shelly Winters- the 100,000 new residents
   were a poseidon adventure
waiting to happen

spot on 

the markers 

                                              making believe that 

yesterday was today 

but  no that's 

             not it 

start a war 

                                     for bakery delivery

                    blindly  reaching 

 out 

to mark

             the spots 

    that we  

 you 

they 

us 

        stand 

      and sit 

 and our backs hurt

                     

    

precipitice icing
 a drought
   of frosting
          we are dying of thirst
    have a tequila
                  California days!
          Ronald Reagan
                                 was a turd
driving to El Cerrito
        
                You can't afford to
  walk on the street
               and that sun
        why is it so bright?
   you'll get skin cancer
      if you're not careful,
        
        Arroyo Seco racetrack
         and the Salinas Rodeo
               ro-day-oh
                rodee-oh
let's call the whole thing off
          

namby 

to the danube 

I struck gold in

maccaroons 

 the war is over 

 but the prisoners remain 

          we are here for you 

 do not choose 

                             some remain 

 and some go 

                  please 

                            do not loiter 

                        in this area 

                                if thats all you have to show 

then you're doing ok