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stabby? current song: screenwriter's blues by soul coughing exits to freeways twisted like knots on the fingers jwewls cleaving skin between... breasts. your cadillac breathes 400 horses under bluelines you are going to receda to make love to a model from ohio whose real name you don't...know you spin like the cadillac was overturning down a cliff on television and the radio is on and the radio man is speaking and the radio man says women were a curse so men built paramount studios and men built columbia studios and men built...los angeles. it is 5 am and you are listening to los angeles and the radio man says it is a beautiful night out there and the radio man says rock and roll lives and the radio man says it is a beautiful night in los angeles you live in los angeles and you are going to receda we are all in some way or another going to receda someday to die and the radio man laughs because the radio man fucks a model too. gone savage for teenagers with automatic weapons and boundless love gone savage for teenagers who are asthetically pleasing - in other words flies los angeles becons the teenagers to come to her on buses los angeles loves...love... it is 5 am and you are listening to los angeles i am going to los angeles to build a screeenplay about lovers who murder eachother i am going to los angeles to see my own name on a screen 5 feet long and luminous as the radio man says it is 5 am, and the sun has charred the other side of the world and come back to us and painted the smoke over our heads an imperial violet it is 5 am and you are listening to los angeles you are listening...to los angeles i got a job, waiting tables 3rd shift at the big boy on reynolds road. it's ok, i guess. i'm only working 3 days a week now, thursday, friday, and saturday. i make decent money. at least i can afford my own cigarettes and gas now. it makes me really tired. i hate drunks, and i hate them even more now, since i've been puked on, treated like shit, and worked my ass off only to get stiffed. oh well. and now, a haiku i wrote the other night on my break. stabby stab stab stab stabedy stabby stab mcstab stabby stab stab dead. that's my peace. i think...i'm being begged for a tarot reading. i've got to go, kids. is your phone back on, mr. wheeler? ~*~ immediate yesterday. ~*~ divination. ~*~ get your own guestbook here |
