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p.o. box 3321
those pictures are from the stage in the square meters and trees and all recycled i can do the music but a human loop a collection of in a proper and a sort of scheduled manner these are the faces presented without warning this must be personal this must be bored money drawing straws a human oh the humanity hey there neon things were better when things werent blu i can drive anywhere tho this must be a test at random right in front of me a picture thru the rear view taken by a basket case i remember new york the first a fill in for a one shot the second a disaster the third a gig for mr Buscemi he was the only in the room utah at the bar a half broken car fifteen hours of driving for a 30 minute set so skipped cleveland because of the four others cleveland cleveland and cleveland and the other cleveland and there in the road on the way we can all spell kent i stopped and ate fried food before i ran out of gas a police man pushed my car to a gas station i gave him twenty bucks location which will bring me to now the halted standstill where we can take it all in you know and figure out the crush on the universe like the pen pusher who thinks shes an alien or the cyclist who thinks hes a truck a puddle acting like an ocean catching footsteps and spillling over how generous oh how very generous
