Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.



Wednesday, March 18, 2009

no explanations.

i still got raildust on my hand and feel like living in the yard tonight
it's a wink within spring
i got nothin but time to murder with a blunt pickaxe made of long words,
an inkling for blood/
no beer/
exactly 41 cigarettes to roll/
poet friends with no literary aspirations whatsoever/ would rather banish the word itself/
have graduated to writing underage in bars where nobody knows my name or face/
8 separate voices to talk to/
beauty to personally wrestle with after wrestling with my beautiful friend who happens to be a wrestling coach, got my ass kicked but got him agitated/
desolation to uphold like a creed/
notebook pages to erase/
dust bibles to write/
apocalypses to outlive/
parts of my brain to just give away/
jus' period all sorts o' people to agitate/
words to speak recklessly at inopportune moments/
self portraits to salter on the underbellies of canals/
long distance huffing to do/
nihilsms to shatter/
no explanations/
DA LEVY's everlovin corpse to reanimate,
oh
and a woman to avoid.

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