I feel the ghosts of all the women. Some haunt me, some I scoff and wave off the memory like a disbelief. Some I long for. Some, I might cry. Still, I carry them all with me.
Always.
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Veruca Salt
10
25
10'
Have wheels, will travel. Detroit, is still a shithole; not that I expected any different. Canadians are Canadians. Ann Arbor looks like a nice place to live, you can’t throw a rock without hitting a coffee shoppe.
Grosse Point, however, what a picturesque town. It’s like something off a postcard. A mythical land of endlessly beautiful homes, great waterfront, and black squirrels. Something not to be missed in the vacillation of autumn.
Never in my life had I seen a black squirrel.
I want one, daddy. I want a black squirrel NOW!!!
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Ruby Port suits me tonight.
10
23
10'
Wit and prose. Slander and libel. Faded memories, of wants and need.
Juxtaposition half truths.
Tell us your secrets, and expose those hidden places you want to forget.
Sleep well little liar.
Dream a little dream, of me.
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Mouth Breathers
10
22
10'
Why is it, that drummers insist on being a pain in the ass? It’s like they have a need to make racket when guitarist are tuning. The very time I need you to STFU.
Albeit, to sit in on a session with such a great jazz pianist… I’ll forgive the drummer.
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Let us drink
10
06
10'
Come walk with me. Just one night. We’ll pretend that dawn is never coming, and let the shadows hide our face.
Let my words crawl under your skin, and my touch electrify you.
No promises we won’t keep.
I can savor your lingering taste,
and leave you with my bodies impression on your sheets.
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