V1: Roky Erickson paints a Rorschach masterpiece using only his left hand. Sweet Nico learns to play fuzz guitar on the harmonium while wearing dark sunglasses. The lines are heavily blurred between the decay of peace and the melody of war. The rivers are overflowing with dormant nightmares and sunshine dreamscapes. Dick Dale and Link Wray play chess on the cliffs of Del Mar At the same time, a small remnant of Skylab still orbits in the darkening horizon view. What was that familiar sound? Oh yes, it's the orchestra of deaf crickets playing a dissonant triad. All while the reverb springs dance in the seductive moonlight shadow. V2: The ultimate question is, am I a Montague or am I a Capulet? I believed I would always answer neither. What would Kerouac think of my brand new boots? I polished them using pure cynicism. There is a chamber at the top of the hill with a bright light beaming through the transparent door. As I enter, the cherubs attack me as if I were a lost soul seeking solace. Glenn Miller conducts In The Mood alongside the ghosts of my grandparents sipping Merlot by the lake. A limousine arrives carrying the contents of what once were the ashes of Leonard Cohen's first love. It began raining in the desert, and I took refuge under a lonely spineless monitor wearing nothing but a news boy hat. All while the reverb springs dance in the seductive moonlight shadow. V3: How in the world did I receive these inputs and outputs? Was it a pipeline to the soul? Only time will tell. I once asked St. Francis if the hides of our times were the inspiration for the future. He only responded with silence. Have you ever had a conversation with a speeding Aston Martin on the Autobahn? It was like an exotic kiss from Brigitte Bardot. The interior walls are lined with Mondrian patterns and giant Warhol prints accentuate the vibrant feeling of uncertainty. If you continue on the path of utmost concurrence, you will find that it is always crystalline on the opposite side of the sky. Johnny Thunders teases his hair and sings love songs to the cold cold audience of misplaced memories. A most frequent occasion in these parts. Always leaning on the sides of consciousness and psychosis, a trusty feline will assist the difficult choices of the moment. All while the reverb springs dance in the seductive moonlight shadow. V4: I arrived on occasion to the observatory to entertain the idea of witnessing a collapse of the white dwarf. It was an overwhelming experience, but I had Brian Jones whispering messages of Pythagorean theorems in my ear. A band of blind messengers played chopsticks on the cerebellum during the times of no spoken word or sound. The presentation was brief, but it implied the understanding of progress drowning in the rings of the dusty Oort cloud. The Id thinks he has control but he is overshadowed by succulent desires for lush textures and foggy valleys. Man was he mistaken. I packed my bags and headed east only to find that the world was round and I was surprisingly existing in the West. A wise man once told me that I should allow mankind to strike me in the face, I did embrace that notion, and it was painful. All while the reverb springs dance in the seductive moonlight shadow. V5: When I put the mystic shades over my eyes, the world became a better place. That's right, again, the world became a better place. I no longer know my name, only monikers, and that's ok, because together, we are all one inside of the other inside of the other. Sometimes I find myself hugging a vintage Bonneville in the back country of Donegal as my ancestors throw stones and mock my peculiar existence. The personification of HAL 9000 is what governs the ebb and flow of the tides of our lives. No, I will not open the doors. As I was leaving the womb and entering the world, the distant sounds of Patsy Cline played on an old transistor radio overpowering the filth of the disco movement. The fluorescent lights left scars. Butterfly nets are being used to gather hydration from the humid mists rising from the illustrious fountain of youth. I slowly sip and embrace the moment, only to find my cup is empty. I tapped my foot along with the rhythm of the cicadas. It allowed me to see from their eyes. I was collectively surprised, and shocked to know the truth. All while the reverb springs dance in the seductive moonlight shadow. V6: As the days get longer and the time becomes a cautious haze, I play three chords and hum the lines to folk songs of the future. Reed and Morrison, Sterling that is, discuss the ostrich and the dissolution of the sanctity of my eponymous existence in all periods of time. The scratchy reel to reel film along with the hiss of worn magnetic tape, add character to my ailing senses. Clarity is not what it sought or desired. I actually despise it, if I were to be honest. Who needs to live with that much objectivity? When I am approaching the end, I don't have a fear or care. I just drop the needle on the post-acetate canyons of Arthur Lee and Love and let myself get lost in the heavenly tones of memory. The warmth takes over and I no longer have to ascend or descend. I am one with one. Yes, I am one with one. I am one with one. I am one with one. All while the reverb springs dance in the seductive moonlight shadow.

Sundancers blazing in the hot moonlight while Jeep cherokees ride the the sandy rot. Nothing compares to the bleak sidewinders and the hippified gangsters on Sunset Boulevard. I hated Hollywood, cheap people with expensive tastes and it costs a token to take a piss. Where are they now? Beverly Hills dropouts singing sad songs like Elton John and Jerry Lee, hey that guy was an asshole but my grandma loved him. Learning the piano at her house was such a drag, like the puffs she took smoking Kent 100s, drinking coffee, watching "good night John Boy," and begging for more Fats Domino. The stench of years old nicotine yellowing the walls and arteries that eventually killed her. Silence now reigns in the veins where she once resided which is good because Lord knows she never could shut the fuck up. It's a running trend in the fam, we all talk when we're nervous. Say things we don't mean, mean things we don't say, and are steady stuck in the detritus of shallow relationships we never really cared for in the first place. What about you, playboy? Grew up on a farm worked in a butcher shop because mommy and daddy couldn't make it work. Always being pulled in different directions because of course you love one more, but you really wanna live with the one that buys you the most useless shit like that Super Mario Brothers box set, goddamn those guys can shred. Selfish little prick never knew what he wanted but he liked attention so he took it where he could get it. Yeah, my capacity for self loathing is outstripped only by my competing narcissism and body dismorphia also known as “I vacillate between thinking I’m a worthless or a badass fat guy.” Carried a tune in a bucket all the way to opera school where between the delusions of grandeur and the pursuit of enlightenment through self-destruction and substance abuse managed to read a book or two and consistently achieve high levels of mediocrity at every turn. Systemic self abuse led to a heart attack at 25 where he began to reevaluate his life choices and try to fly straight. I'd blame it on the violence of my youth but ultimately I'm responsible for my own choices. Back in my parachute pant days I was an idealist, now I'm a realist, a pessimist, a cynical piece of who gives a fuck amidst all the injustice in the world. I'm intensely aware of my daughter watching Baby Einstein and wishing that I could take her to see the home she was born in but the rabid right wingers are busy immanentizing their fucking abhorrent eschaton. Those fucks really are the kings of projection. Don't bitch about them on Facebook though because you'll alienate half your audience. Well what happens if I don't want to do business with those mewling quims, I'm pretty sure they just codified my right to tell them to fuck off since they didn't wanna bake a gay dude a cake. I spend every morning reading about the progression of the dumpster fire consuming my country powerless to look away because who doesn't like watching car crashes in slo mo? 9/11 happened and we all turned on each other and fed the rich instead of eating them. Mission fucking accomplished my ass. Socioeconomic divides widen, fat cat wallets swell, and the rubes eat Big Macs and stand in line for new iPhones so they can post every minute detail of their lives on social media for dissection by big data firms that sell the goods to Silicon hillbilly wankers obsessed with cutthroat libertarian utopias, where the chattel are convinced it's the poor people that's robbed them. There was never any equality, just a Star Trek pipe dream of post scarcity societies whilst getting screwed by supply side Jesus, remember when he didn't feed the multitudes with those fish and loaves but instead gave them all a copy of "Atlas Shrugged," and said, "what about them bootstraps tho?" Yeah, me neither.

Hello Welcome  Make yourself at home Something to drink? Something to eat? Overlook the mess Mind the webs  And scattered debris Watch your step See what you can see A map if you please Focus on the breath Please note the exits  Trees and their branches Landslides, avalanches  Rainbows and cages Land mines and pages You can be happy - if you-  Simply make it be It's all just a ride

Birds of a Feather Come on waste a little time with me It's like it stops in your vicinity Intersect these parallel lives 'till they reach the end of Pi We can build something better as long as we're together there's nothing we can't do Like birds of a feather We can weather the weather Let your light shine through Can't move forward if you're looking back There's no future living in the past I know these words may sound cliché Wisdom's wiser than yesterday We can build something better as long as we're together there's nothing we can't do Like birds of a feather We can weather the weather Let your light shine through I know sometimes it's hard to take Everything that comes our way But you've got to keep the faith that everything will be ok If you believe in me and I believe in you.... We can build something better as long as we're together there's nothing we can't do Like birds of a feather We can weather the weather Let your light shine through

just more crap to get a tick mark for this week.

6 am - start my day Fire up the coffee, peeps to wake Don’t check the phone let’s enjoy the break Rush out the door with a smile on my face Mail check? Work calls Child care - after school What will we feed them Shoot just missed the crosstown Now I’m late I need WINE! Too many roads Never enough time Too many rainbows On my mind Drop off check, subway bliss Back to the west side to check my list 10 hours work but I’m down to six Crank though the day then pick up those sweet kids! Mix that song - tweak that beat Violin lesson - song for the week Fold the laundry - bills to pay Did I even get a shower today?

I shot it to hell
 fell infidel Reeling how fast 
we came undone she’s shaking the storm
 sounds the alarm
 she’s just another
 hit and run
 Station to station Lost in temptation 
static ain’t got no melody 
keeping a slow burn Making the wrong turn The poison ain’t got no remedy I’m searching for sounds
 for oceans to drown 
the fool’s battleground 
inside of me 
but all I can hear
 is static so clear
 dear lord, I’d erase these memories Station to station Lost in temptation 
static ain’t got no melody
 keeping a slow burn Making the wrong turn The poison ain’t got no remedy Beams and Daniels 
changing channels I can see the exit sign Station to station Lost in temptation
 static ain’t got no melody 
keeping a slow burn Making the wrong turn The poison ain’t got no remedy

What goes on inside my mind What goes on inside my mind It changes all the time And when I look into myself I leave the world behind And an elevator takes me to a place beyond the clouds And the escalator takes me back down What goes on inside my head Some days I stand up tall And then I stumble to the ground I can’t get up at all And my dreams they takes me to a moment in my distant past And a face appears and Reveals a fake moustache What goes on inside my brain Sometimes I feel insane I walk around in circles and I stand out in the rain My heart goes cold and freezes til it shatters into glass And a sunny days they never really last I’m sitting here in Greenwhich time Listening to the church bells Could it be a paradigm Or just a bunch of shells And an elevator takes me to a place beyond the clouds And the escalator takes me back down