Fluorescence And The Boredoms

This year, I am a disillusionist, too much of a dog to be alive.

I am also a large cricket sometimes, in choking hot nights, hearing bat flight every time I close my eyes.
Reaching into my skull, I still get anxiety attacks and trip on your first novel.
In a museum, you talk about responsibility and pray before your pills.
In a human, you walk around with morning clinging to your cheeks, spitting.
And only when surrounded by fluorescence and the boredoms do you get the sensation that you are dying.

I also am a hummer and can whistle when my throat is wet.
On foreign streets, I get a good look at a train wreck.

Everything Wrinkled

You go to Ellis Island to stare at the names
Collect your parachute from the police
You build a little fire, rest your eyes on the flames
Throw your dirty books into the heat

Running naked through
The stadium
With pride in your skin

My sister's got
A rosary
She dresses up in

My pocket's feeling heavy with the ink of my pen
So I better get this down

Shivering at the back door with your books and your fleas
Your Kerouac, your almanac, and your hot jazz beat
If you're feeling empty you should talk to your priest
Or get a little high

Don't try to speak in meter cos nobody does
Don't pretend you're a romantic; you just want to be fucked
I keep a little stutter; it's the only thing I trust
I refuse to be understood

My mother had
A surgery
It's a child, again

Good for your
Telepathy
Know where everything is

I need a new rebellion; this one's losing its edge
Tell me how to be bad

I don't believe in science or the afterlife
I won't bother with you, I like everything you like
You've been working in the garden, now you're reeking of thyme
Everything wrinkled


In the light

Temple

My body is not my temple
My body is a lot of spit and stone and skin
Made to look valuable

Your god is not my temple
Your god is a lot of fear and freaks and fucks
Made to look holy

My word is my temple
My word is the word that says,
"NO."
"YEAH."
"SHIT."

My word is the word that says your little book and your business cards and your shined shoes standing on the street corner selling scripture to schoolchildren is bogus.

But climb up on your little soapbox altar and tell me to go to the hell I've yet to be shown on a map.



Alright.

Damn me.
I don't subscribe to your organ-playing, wafer-eating, wine-drinking, fear-mongering, stained glass, senior citizen, completely celibate but still fucking the altar boy bullshit.

So come on, white boy, PREACH.

Pray for my soul, but my soul's right here. And it's looking at you and your kids and your Sunday clothes, and your amen hallelujah and it's saying "That right there is something worth saving." But you decided to save me first, man.

I'm up for a saving.

Or would be if your idea of saving wasn't telling me to fear god, stand up straight, sing, sit, stand, sit, give me money because I need it to build another one of these!

You preach a culture of fear.
But mister,
Fate loves the fearless.

I read that on a fortune cookie, which is as good a religion as any other. It even comes with a dozen fried dumplings and some white rice.

Your god told you to spread his word. You call that divine, I call that good marketing.


Mister, I find your misguided idolatry dangerous, ignorant, and hilarious.

I won't come into your temple and tell you to go to hell.
I won't give you a business card, I'll give you a dollar.
I'll give you a dollar and a handshake and a goodbye.
Because, Mister, you're about to leave
You're about to walk out of that door and get in your SUV and drive home to your suburban development and turn on your FOX NEWS and climb into bed next to your emptiness and fall asleep with your Bible open.


Mister, GET OUT OF MY TEMPLE.

Stone Soup Peace

I have given
Beds to soldiers
But under their tanks I still sleep

Motionless, they
Have us gather
Ingredients for stone soup peace

Aching in the fields
We harvest
Ornaments or Christmas wreaths

We fall away
From our religion
But these presents we will keep

Shivering
In slavic slumber
Waiting for the other shoe

Bumping
On the subway
You're a stranger, I'm strange too

I get used
To my surroundings
I locate the neighborhood

I grew up in
Bakeries
Crumb-faced, looking rather good

World History

D. (Slept in shifts) In the
Apartment -- family, friends

The farmland (open area) has
Been filled with streets &
Buildings

Touch

You
Put my head on your lap
Kept on rubbing my back
I sighed
It is so nice on the outside
I thanked your god for the plough lines
And their growing seeds

But
It was ruined and rained
The bridge was creaking with strain
I sleep
In your van in the back seat
Kept on feeling the black heat
Against my eyelids

Too
You were baking for days
It is nothing I say
I know
I am quiet and not old
I am ugly but got soul
Worth enjoying

Good
Kept my feet in the sand
Kept on touching your hands
I was
Just as happy as a bug
Felt like touching to be touched
On our island

True
When the sand turned to grass
We were measuring mass
Of the
Bones and skins and the rubber
Gorgeous things in each other
We kept our eyes on

This
We were saying at last
We were skinny and fast
The hill
Picnic-eating all our fill
Summer-living it until
The season's over

Grab
All your songs and your bliss
Your dust and your instruments
Meet us
And the only true creatures
Know us all by our features
Tattoos and scars

At
Where the man makes his bend
All his limbs and his ends
Are so
Great for living in the world
Good for kissing on a girl
And hearing thunder

Hot Damn

You are not trying
A glorious siren
Made a necklace out of metal
We found on the ground

Inside you shouted
"You will all crumble"
But I am intact and
I still don't know how

Laying the groundwork
For so many houses
I'll have a new neighbor
But where is my home?

Losing some feeling
I want to be touched but
I listen to Graceland
And worry alone

Hot damn
Hot damn

I'd love to be back in
The womb for a little
I don't like that outside
I can't feel my limbs

Fitting back into
Your childhood clothing
Digging through pockets
And loving your lint

A weekend near Easter
We get ourselves tangled
And use our two bodies
The way we know how

Pack all your bags and
Quick fake our deaths so
We can live without reason
Escape to the South

Hot damn
Hot damn

A veteran once asked me,
"Would you die for your country?"
I cleared all my throat out
And smiled at him

I can't say I would though
My country is nothing
I don't need its furnace
Heat myself from within

I printed some money
And spent it on pizza
No way I'll live hungry
I spit on my gold

They teach us to read and
They send us to college
But I need an idea
Before I get old

Knifethrowing

Got a claustrophobia
Got color TV
Got refrigeration
Got pain in my knees
I got two more people looking out for me
One is my mother
One is my beast
I'm not free
I'm not free

Feeling our wires
Fry out natural
Feeling our limbs
We lost in the war
I've got hallucinations I'm looking for
I'm still hungry
Hunting is a chore

Grabbing our muscles
And watching us die
A crowd of spectators
All throwing their knives
Everyone's laughing who would usually sigh
This is a painting, this is a life
Nearly mine

Loved ones gather
At our funeral jet
Killing the tarmac
With alcohol sweat
I've got a great old banjo I would usually fret
But it doesn't seem appropriate now

Down in the season
We lay by the lake
Loving our movement
Feeling the quake
It's far too long since we were really awake
Your company's fine
But I want something to take

Engines and Engineers

Attribute flaws to side effects of human being
A policy that borders on excuse
Every morning I just seem to wake up wheezing
I'm a radical gone static with the flu

A double head, an open neck: Listen, my lips are
Open but not quite ready for use
When I'm on a game board I know what I'm doing
A ladder's work and I prefer the chutes

I called up your celebrity telethons
To tell them that I admire their work
I was told that I could be American
If I just learned to put that gossip first

Trying notes on my piano, I am stupid
To not have learned this when I still could learn
Sighing as I get to bed, "Is it not fruitless?"
Strap blinders on so I won't dream a turn

I crane my neck to see where all my enemies are
It's a storyline I'm trying not to feel
Lift a bus, run with trains, jump really far
What a difficult time to be a superhero

I guess you've guessed that I just want to have some children
But I want to make everything else first
I think you'll like the type of engine I am building
It's one that only runs in the reverse

Do some travel with you; make it hard to find us
I'd come home to you smiling in our hut
You will keep on kissing me until you find a
Better way to really shut me up

Overbite

I put up a fight
I fix my overbite
I turn out all the lights
In your home

And in my kitchenette
I check my internet
A Catholic repent
This time alone

I feel it in my knees
At the heights I breathe
The tobacco leaves
Throw them towards the wild

I want a body fire
I want a whole church choir
I want another liar
No I don't

Pour

I love you when you pour
Everything that's in you and more
All the faces you only once wore
Down onto the floor

And it sits there and it looks like a stain
And it slowly circles around the drain
And it'll fade into the sidewalk with rain
You say there will never be shame

In doing that kind of shit
In gagging, in choking on it
In readying your mouth to spit
Then taking another hit

Blurry Splotches Of Light

There are times I feel more like the old than the young
I've spent days in my room just putting teeth in my tongue
My mouth is a hole and my pockets are lint
Don't ask me for dinner, my money's all spent
I can give it all up, I can take what I get
Because everyone knows the way

The way to sell yourself into the system is just
An admission of guilt:
I'm a human, I lust
After freedom
Dear god and dear government,
Save me from myself

I've caught myself thinking these last couple days
About the way I was built versus the way I was raised
I'm sticking hair in my face as an excuse to shave
Cos that's all I ever want

I'm reading your books and I'm putting some notes
Into margins I just feel these words in my throat
I'll announce a flood and I'll build them a boat
And I'll sink it in the middle of the sea

I'd love to sit beside you on our way through the world
And you'd know me as Boy and I'd just call you Girl
Because that is all we need in this oyster: a pearl
A name we do not have

The way to name your kids after flowers is fine
An American theme
Oh sweet orchards of mine
I'm eating all your apples til I know it's the time
To burn you to the ground

They've made me a cynic, they've filled me with dirt
But I dust myself off, and I take off my shirt
And no I'm not sure about how all of this works
But I'm willing to learn

In the back seat of a car that reeks of fake pine
I've opened my hand and you're counting the lines
Instead of a diamond I'll just dig you a mine
That's what what you're taught to want

And the only world they know has been filtered through tubes
They live on the couch, and they sleep through the news
And the only drive they take is straight through, for their food
Cross themselves before they eat

I take off my glasses and I find I can see
The blurry splotches of light are the true parts to me
I'd give my whole body if I thought I could be
Anything at all

Prizefighter

I talked with you the night through
And god you were a typewriter
I feel like I'm just like you
Another failure prizefighter

They'll make movies about us
A generation typecast
So we'll watch them and reminisce

About words we left unspoken
Rotting right inside our mouths
Arms and legs unbroken
Days went by, sat on our couch

You talk about your city
You talk about your modern art
And god you are so pretty
Another way to fall apart

I can't picture us fighting
I see the ground but it's just dirt
I see you are like lightning
I see you are like fireworks

House fire in my body
I am too sick to be alone
The way you look beside me
Is comfort like a dial tone

They say it's cos we're young but
We really think that something's wrong
We hang our flags upside down

I Thought I Might Skip Town But Maybe You'd Mind

It's a shoot-out
At the break of dawn
It's a dumb mouth
That I'm kissing on

Do you feel that
Under your skin?
That's the state that
I've been living in

That's a car crash
That's a house fire
That's a mustache
That's an evening's work

I thought I might I skip town but maybe you'd mind
I said "I'm skipping town." You said "God that's so fine."

In your mirror
In your caviar
My reflection
My face in the wall

On your way home
On your bread lines
On your cell phone
Unintelligent design

On your desktop
With your alphabet
Try to make me
But you always forget

I'm a real mess
I've got nothing but sound
That's a life vest
But I think I'll just drown

Did I write this?
Are we playing a part?
Read the stage notes
Are we fucking it up?

And if I just missed my cue I think that's alright
And if I really have to be with you I guess I won't die

Washing it off our hands
Fucking the government too

It's a protest
It's an act of war
It's some tear gas
It's another chore

Another

Wear your hair like it falls from your head
The revolution comes I'm making my bed
So fall with me

Come over, maybe waste your time
Come over, we'll fall asleep all night
Just waste with me

Am I just another tragic case?
I look at you and I cannot see your face
I just see myself
(Falling all in love.)

Becoming The Sound

You've got freedom all over your face
My feet are behind me yet again
And I trip, it's like I'm giving chase
I fall down and wind up where I am
It's New Years, so another needle drops
I am not a DJ but I'll learn
The player hums. He skips and then he pops
You smile like you were just making sure
Waiting for the evening to begin
I eat your tapes and wander through my head
A butterfly is parted from its pin
Whisper something I remember having said
Can't sleep enough with you always around
But I don't mind, I'm becoming the sound

Pay Crime

You're calling your friends you're so out of reach
I'm just trying to lick the plaque off your teeth

So turn the lights off
Some people round here are trying to sleep at night
It's getting cold out
There's a buzz in your head and you sort of don't sleep that great

Knit this quilt like
You're making a lie and trying to sleep in it
And you feel like
Your gold is a fraud you're a fool for believing it

You've got a hunger headache
You've got a baby mistake
You've got so much there to take
So take what you want

You've seen a head in a hand
You've seen a foreigner land
You've seen enough bad bands
So see what you are

Running scared to
Your one-size-fits-all worship house
You've been sinning and
Only conforming can possibly save you now

We've got our finger on
The pulse of the people the people their heart has stopped
Granting refunds
The people can't help it they're feeling a little robbed

You've been beating this drum
You've been pointing this gun
You've been wanting to run and run
all away

You've been speaking in rhyme
You've been biding your time
You've been paying for crime
But crime doesn't pay.

I'm the great great living machine.
Did you have a dreamcoat?
Did I have a dream?

I'm the first first man on the moon
Am I too late for the future?
Am I too soon?

More Distortion

So you're making babies out of gold
And you're nursing them until they're far too old
And their wrinkles show
And their inner glow's
Stamped out with a foot that doesn't know

So you're grinning at me with those teeth
If you could speak I'm sure that you'd agree
We're all junkies now
We're all drunk on how
We can reaffirm what we just disavowed

So you're keeping your head in your hands
Overwhelmed with a grief, yes, we've all had the bends
I don't know it but
I've assumed as much
Why the hairs on my skin bristle under your touch

So you're having second thoughts
Hang onto those, they may be all you've got
I'm a mountain man
I'm a Jackie Chan
I'm a fuck of course but I do what I can

So you use more distortion, right?
So you use more distortion, right?
So you use more distortion, right?
Of course you do, you're only rock and roll

I've just got to have your tongue in my mouth
I've just got to have something to adore
I've just got to have your body on my couch
I've just got to have more and more and more and more and

I've been eating my share of dust
I've been to the doctor and he says it's my feet
I've been metal and I'm starting to rust
I wake up bruised I've been kicking myself to sleep

Eyelids

Why would I question myself?
I am always wrong
I check her windows at night
And that light's always on

Why don't come down from there
You could hurt yourself
I can tell that you're scared
But I can't offer any help

She cries
With her mother in the car
On her way to
A city where I'm not

But she's not leaving
She's just finding another way back home

And she's not breathing
But I'm kissing air back into her lungs

I follow up with
A question for the crowd
Am I so helpless?
Am I still making the same sounds?

I saw your eyelids
I saw your eyelids
I saw your eyelids
And I knew what to do

Making oaths that
I know I'll never keep
Goes to show that
I can't find another heat

How can I live with myself?
Well it's no life at all
I hold my face to the light
I lick my lips they taste like salt

Why do you bother with me
I can never change
I'm full of headaches
I'm so disgusted with my age

She seems
Like she's living through her eyes
On a rooftop
I go to her and sigh

But she's not hearing
She's just in a car and on her way

It's just a feeling
But when I feed it it comes back to stay

I've had enough with
Sleeping through the night
She's so human
She's so stubborn she's so right

I saw your eyelids
I saw your eyelids
I saw your eyelids
And I knew it was you

Coca-Cola

A bag is thrown over your head as a kid
To keep germs and ideas from tunneling in
Yet you're stubbing your double-joint foot on your shin
Does no one care to know?
That you take the elevator to your invisible jet
And it's not nearly fast enough but it's as fast as they get
And let's get out the camera when you take your first shit
And relive it in a year.

When you're feeling like your love is just a surrogate child
When your diseases win the walkathon and smirk in their stride
When artificial lighting burns a hole through the night
Does no one know to care?
About your sense of belonging to an underground cult
Toasting your health with your head in the smoke
And if the children of the world can find joy from a coke
Can we mass-produce that here?
Another million shrink-wrapped happy meal treats
Another million children hiding under the sheets
Another million bankers with nothing to eat
But their stomachs full of dimes

And the polygraph test reads your truth as a lie
And our eyes are closed tight in prayer to the sky
And they're gorging themselves on American pie
Cosmetic surgery!