Expensive Wine

Like a drunk turtle I'm in shell
Kicking wild nonsense
To nobodies with nothing
How can this be,
Alive and confused?
Every other animal
Seems to have a vague understanding
of what's happening
Its all the mistakes in history
Reelected for the 2nd term
Lost our best secrets
On snot rags
Blown hard and dirty
In dangerous corners
We have front row seats
To the shit show
We created,
All for a good time
And...
Some expensive ass wine

Late night jargon

A Late One

This is going to be one for the books
One to live by
A time when anything goes,
And it all went
Into despair, this is real
For real bull shit
Surreal misfits
Raping this paradise
Oh Mother Fucker of All
Please slit our throats quick
Bleed us dry before the storm hits again,
This was a grave mistake
A fire squad debate
On this modly divorce
In this rapturous Time of ours.

When does it quit

How do we know when things are done? When does it quit? Stop the foolish banter, relax . "You should know better" they tell me. "I've seen this movie" I say; Neither is true. Justified futures gather no remorse from me. She's doomed, the boyfriend is gay. She walks with sweet softness. An elegance of regal reward. Wet from salt lappings. The cookie crumbles amongst her fortune. Never have I become such fluid, melting and mending. I give the wind full teeth out the window. Drunk on her life ripe smile. I'm nowhere in sight, for yet, another lonely night.

Long time coming

Here I am. Probably been about 3 years since I wrote in this thing. I guess it would be hard for me to sum up all the random wonderful happenings that has transpired since the last post, which pretty much confirmed my demise in Bolivia. Of corse, why wouldn't I have almost died down there, that was all part of the gig wasn't it, all partof the show. ANd for some odd reason I'm still here. Good ole fashion diarea used to kill people left and right, but E. coli and his gut slicing friends didn't wack me off (used in a mobster sense of the word), I'm pretty amazed how I'm still alive. Alive and in the middle of a quarter life crisis, which I presume is a bit of a normalcy when one is 27. Saturn is returning and I have to look like I know what the fuck I'm doing. No sense looking like a god-damn fool in front of a huge planet; they're the worst critics!
ANY hoo, I've been living on a tropical island in Hawaii, on the north shore of Kauai, living in a VW Van, surfing every time the sun comes up and working two wonderful jobs. Perfect life you might say! Sure, go ahead, say it, tis quite a picture perfect life style. But no amount of tropical island, asian beauties nor empty waves can assist a man in the middle of his god for saken saturn returning! Its all in the mind. Its all right now, in my pocket, clenched in my fist. I can't distract it anymore. Grounding? Maybe.Career? Maybe. Soulful direction; sure why not.
All this floods into my overly excited psyche in a rustic looking bar on a hill in Seattle. 1:00am, alone, walking back to my friends house I pop into this Austrian looking pub. The bar tender is this perfect looking black woman from Ethiopia. Her accent resembles french and a mix of Caribbean. Huge gold hoop ear rings dangle with innocent grace from a distant world. I order a beer and sit down, instantly asking her question about her home country, in which americans have such a thin bodied starving stereo-type mentality. We converse about coffee to "democracy", family and college, and love and drugs. Her smile keeps me there for a few more beers. I gather all and every part of my late night charm to convince her I'm a good person and not some bar hound trying to shag her thoughtlessly behind some damp dumpster. She's been here 4 years, about to finish college with a degree in computer engineering. She's smart and engertically aware I instantly pick up from her glowing eyes. "you live here?" she shyly asks. "can i see you again?" she says with a bar tender type confidence, but hidden in genuine attraction. "who knows. When I see me I'll tell him to go say hello" I said without thinking as I chugged the last of my amber ale. I wanted to envite her home to my "house" down the block. I wanted to tell her all my joys and concerns. I wanted to ask her questions about Africa until the sun came up and drink tea till the moon went down. I wanted to just hold this tall curvy black beauty and kiss her like she ment the world to me. But alas Sir Walker, I took none of the above roads, I nodded my head and gave a Maine made smile that only a resident of that state can muster up, and away I went alone down the leaf blown hill, cold in my nose, beer in my belly and a strange sadness on my face, which resembled a drunken smile. I'm on this ride solo this time, the crack head circus freaks are all passed out, the cotton candy is made of arsenic, the darts are dipped in frogs and my ferris wheel is run by gerbils. But who's isn't?