summer storm

the thunderstorms rolled in late last night and saved me...i was sitting, sweating, a single story up...listening to the corner boys, you know them, the 80 i.q. crowd, congregating outside my window...kids rollerskating up and down the street...the grating, grating, grating, like nails on the chalkboard...over and over, back and forth...gotta love kids, they can continue repetitive motions onward into the abyss forever...it was eleven at night and i wanted to shout, "stop your fucking skating, get yourself to bed," i wanted to scream to the dry, dirty, drunken parents..."put your little shits to bed for god sakes!" but what's the use...their tiny intellects can't comprehend much of anything, and it would be a waste of breath, and waste of energy...after all, i was already sweating like a big, fat, burger-soaked southerner...no need to sweat more...but yes! it came, slowly at first, rumbling from the west...rumbling over the appalachians...across the hudson, the thunder, the wind, the downpour...god cleared all those motherfuckers out...and there was silence on the street for the rest of the night...i have always loved thunderstorms, for many reasons...and now i have one more...

"the soldiers fill the hotels on the weekends"

there is something empty about this sunny saturday…i am listening to whiskeytown and feeling like that anything can happen…anything can happen in the emptiness…anything can happen at any time…and i am about to cry…thinking of every sunny saturday that ever was…for me there have been many, for many there have been few…had a good night with old friends, and have a belly full of strong coffee and diner food…life is worth living today, although nothing is different and nothing has changed…i would like to sob rivers of tears, that pour out like the grand glaciers, melting upstream from jersey…i miss you all today, i miss the sunny saturday afternoon that i have before me…

god's given you

there are bars on the windows...am i in prison? i don't know anymore...sitting here sweating in the moonlight, thinking about stolen kisses, and all the mrs., that used to be mine...but now, sweet nothings...mother's of jimmy and cindy so and so...wives of big billy big shot...lives and lives and lives that i used to know...ahh humans, sometimes i am sorry to call myself one...burping, vomiting, and shitting, the dirty bastards...when it all comes down to someday, it will all come down to nothing...i hope to be laying on a polluted beach, watching the blood red sun set over the peaceful waves...