as you slide down the chairs and down the halls
and bannisters and up the walls
you stick to the ceiling your smile has never
been so wide

and as you wide out the door
and over the hill and down to the candystore
the shape on your lips is often mistaken for
happiness unjaded, crappiness and lonely faded
curtains you tied peering down
the halls and scare-crazy malls
glazed like basketballs feeling more like medicine balls

its your own way

as you slide down the halls and down the walls
and up the turnpike and left on the street
your in the middle of a pancake meeting
now there's a house full of swastikas
making a lonely mess of a good man's life
and everyone is crying out to your own way.

um,
now i can crumple up the paper page and throw it away.
one page a die.

werd.

back in the shadows of the lofty willow
when half its size
this camosun
place where camas is gathered
glass and metal edifice
was once a dreamy-dandelion lot
with swings and annexes
where the cripples once played
trapped, institute
unable to scale the cement walls
clamoured to morning glory
beneath the willow
that would allow a free child to frivolously
swing out, over
this silent orphaned dream
and back
to run, skip, two wheels
to tricycle away to broomed hills
one could gaze distant
to Baker
when she still burned bright.

Hollow like the four walls around me
As blank and their surface bare
Gut feels sunk, bottomless
As a hidden chamber beneath
I walk down a hall lit by night stars
Down paint-thinned, creaky stairs
Step into the moonlight
Laying everywhere, broken feathers, broken cups
And fishing wire threads throughout all
Tight pulling strewn scraps
Coiled and wrapped, kept in place
A strained guise, this anarchy mess
It doesn't help i'm depressed
But to kick this can and get caught up
On your knees
I feel i wait, like pray
Buckled from fear for what?

this is enough for me. schlaffsitz.

i'm just sitting here backing up my F drive
figured i'd blog a bit.
actually just documents off my C for now.
F takes about an hour and i'll do that when i leave.
its 4:32 am.

that's life.


back hurts a bit.
eyes sore and red.
getting old and haggard.

crucial prohom blog.

come to think of i haven't written a song in almost 2 years.

would you say bananas
are fibrous,
or creamy?

apparently,
i have sublimated my anger,
rage,
into and against myself
and i cannot help it.

* * *

films seen:
Russian Ark
Demonlover
Divine Intervention
Irréversible
Ten
Biggie and Tupac

can't wait to see:
Japón
Morvern Callar

so busy

so tired

i love this.

("`-/")_.-'"``-._
. . `; -._ )-;-,_`)
(v_,)' _ )`-.\ ``-'
_.- _..-_/ / ((.' fL
((,.-' ((,/

once when still a youth, while rampaging across a golfcourse
with some buddies on a winter night,
i watched the moon pass behind the veiny, leafless branches of an oak,
creating a frightening, fractured image of a crumbling planet.
for a so brief moment i felt the worst.
my best friend next to me witnessed this illusion
and was experiencing the same dread.
a second of vertigo-inducing disbelief and terror.
the rest of them carried on and did not take our brief exclamation seriously.
it was to crazy too even explain to them.

but it was cool to have shared it with Roddy.

everybody loves a dog with a cone on its head,
beside the white plums,
so delicate, so svelte,
grazed by light, lime water.

i'm having difficulty figuring
out the chords to
"get me to the church on time".
i have to learn it for the play.
music used to be so much
more complex and rich.

***
apprehension and dread.

tommorrow:
meeting a fellow in the parking lot
to buy a guitar.

***

what if dubya rolls about and out
of bed and says
"i am going to look into renewable forms of energy"
then what do we do?

are you a real man?

take the testes.

cannot sleep.
there's a real dryness to the mouth.
parchment paper chafing the lip.
dry as a desert bone.
must remember to find a pebble and
suck on it.
old indian trick from the movies.
look! up,
a head on the road!
cannot believe.
there's a madness in these hills.

moron these ventures and more.
tommorrow.

it'll be any day now,
up from the grass to burst yellow forth,
pushing up roses,
coming up roses underneath,

and,
as the soldiers heed the call,
you let the weather bring you down,

before the sun rises i,
get up my eyes and go to sleep,
and its still flailing,
showering,
splash through,
the puddles don't seem that deep,

under a dark and glowing hillside,
somewhere green,
somewhere warm,
life is teeming, going on,
forests come, forests go,

under a darkened, growing hillside,
somewhere green,
somewhat warm,
life is teeming, growing on,
forests come and forests go.

oh look! this old kitty

marmarouladen is
soooo happy there is
a big-screen version of The A-Team
currently in production!

and also happy
the breeders are on last call!

i have returned with a
fare tail.

a very kind friend gave me his
Propellerheads' Reason shirt.

deal is,
i gatta write the
fellow a song.

fair enough.

peep

not one!