1. |
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|
40 years of unbridled stance.
the future always balances out the past.
hopscotch carcasses 'til u collapse.
avant-ghetto clash & mix match.
own elements of your life that foster
& heighten your love
& frighten your hate.
conquer your failures, consequence, assassins
just like Chico's Brother.
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2. |
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|
for me yesterday, things could've turned pink
as them clouds soaked up.
my ass gone off biking after daybreak clouds;
Johnny's apple blossoms.
the clouds programmed me, I glint their pinkness.
programmed clouds taught aerial longevity.
oh, how they shroud florescent loud.
my ass gone off biking after daybreak clouds.
they wanted me to chase them childishly.
embark through the mist until u clone pinkness.
next they introduced me to Santa Maria
but the gnats were stuck in my eyes from cheesing.
programmed clouds parted ways from their kin.
vapors stretched so thin, my shade then changed.
my ass gone off biking after daybreak clouds.
exude climatic cacophony.
seems it happens to the worst of us
so pick yourself up & head for the programmed cloudy gust.
learn survival, start pedaling.
they will lift u up.
It was up to me to track'em down.
force'em to lift me from feeling low.
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3. |
little mexiKan Kandy
02:55
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|
there's a razorblade hidden inside that mexiKan Kandy.
chocolate rock versus an Aryan cock.
what do u know about mexiKan Kandy anyway?
if it ain't wrapped in cellophane u better toss it away.
little mexiKan Kandy never gets capitalized.
a dash in your throat how you'll be tranquilized.
gringo meets mexiKan in the Kandy store.
a solitary production, nothing scraped nor torn.
little mexiKan Kandy mustn't get raped on the jukebox
by inbreed sheep sockets for cocks.
sweet tooths, mexiKan Kandy will rot your sweet teeth.
covered in caramel, smothered in killer quills.
covered in caramel, smothered in killer quills.
dying after you've had a fill.
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4. |
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|
u have always conned me into blindfolds
& masturbation withdrawal
but my skin just ends up looking worse.
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5. |
96'
03:21
|
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|
damn it, man it's really tough.
inertia never lets me get far.
why I try?
'cos it's fun.
pink tears tinged with nebula undulates to my mouth
(my turquoise front.)
semen from the skeletons of a yellow belly
of a then-friend in some broke down cavalry
who's a liar with a mouth
where lies spring forth from which I kissed.
semen got deposited in the closet
of a rough trade Dago who put the hoes before bros.
96' got brought up somehow.
you're still a THOT, just throw in the towel.
ugh, I can easily imagine
ugh, you're high ass strung out
ugh, on something psychological.
what, what don't perp', it's true.
go freak a blunt with your boo.
give me some fade-cream, somebody,
at least that'll be merciful upon my bloody eyes.
screw that whiteout shit.
I wanna eliminate u not conceal u.
you'd surely burst out once the whiteout dried up.
I can't share my feelings for u or with u
'cos, see, I need my energy to live an estimated 40 years
so it's a waste of Action Potential to think
back in 96'
watching flicks
stuffed the lighter down your pants so i'd grab your dick.
I ain't no fake shit, I ain't your boo.
your Black N' Milds are trifling too.
you're far too old for swag, you're just a downlow fag.
make no mistake, it's so clearly
nobody's running me.
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6. |
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|
I learned of Sarajevo
on the radio waves.
around that time
u got imported with Ace of Base.
u: a Swayze protégée, a gymnastic allure.
u: two years older, a continental flirt.
what more could we do
then pop open bottles of Zima
& form a techno circle.
completed university.
u got antsy returning to France.
we'd write epic novels in birthday cards
as if this was our final chance.
u: a Swayze protégée, a gymnastic allure.
u: two years older, a continental flirt.
what more could we do
then pop open bottles of Zima
& form a techno circle.
your last day despite
public snickering I hugged u tight.
we spray painted "Pouvoir" in sewer tunnel
'cos we didn't have the courage to say....
"tu vas, tu vas et tu viens entre mes reins.
tu vas et tu vien entre mes reins et je te rejoins"
Fabrice Novel,
I knew all about u.
u knew all about me.
form a techno circle.
consume the lovely presence.
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7. |
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|
1980
in the Vestal projects
adjacent from where Peaches got kidnapped
I, a 4 year old boy,
got suckered into a vacant building for my 1st forced kiss.
but in 2016...
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8. |
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|
sure warned me
but unlike Jesus
I didn't see it, foresee it.
they were a few feet behind u
after all but unlike Jesus
I didn't see it, foresee it.
in the Bible Judas hung himself.
guilt grows like germs.
warnings should be grim & less deceptive.
deep throated by Judas.
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9. |
or how
04:18
|
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|
how it must hurt the mattress
when the safety pin spirals into it.
or how tumbleweed has mysteriously
fumbled on the carpet.
or how like on Easter Eve when 3 bored kids
in search of fun found the very opposite.
it was a werewolf moon that evening.
conspiring culprit, Tasmanian plot.
how u pitched in, courteously bought me a $2 gift.
or how I hallucinated 'til the next morning in church.
'cos of that werewolf moon that evening.
conspiring culprit, Tasmanian plot.
or how if I could reverse
maybe I would've been perverse.
how I got played by shock unforeseen.
or how i'll talk myself out of non-feeling.
coming of age fucked me up for damn near 10 years.
it took so much out of me.
a friendship, a romance, a bond
that solidified magic
but fate always ends up as it should be.
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10. |
White Veins (interlude)
00:48
|
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|
if someone that dumb keeps stalking drunk ones
getting hung up on must be loads of fun.
finalizing a finality letter
on your steps.
I pray it will be better.
white veins strobing
|
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11. |
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|
leave the dog alone.
he's so good to me.
on the church hill he reclines.
he's so good, leave the dog alone.
leave the dog alone, just let it be!
so what if he's a stray, he smiles, that's all that matters.
leave the dog alone, he's so good.
he eats chicken whenever he wants.
he's oh so intelligent.
boys, leave the dog alone.
doesn't belong to u or me.
it belongs to this world, only this world.
& if the dogcatcher were to nab it
i'd have to roll up my sleeves.
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12. |
da field
03:07
|
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|
Da Field
it grows its' fruit, it's Rotten To the Core.
the politics, cynics, are pompous shoddy shits.
when they ask "what's your name?"
simply say that "it's still the same."
Gurcia May Johnson.
skipping on the path of picture perfect life with others of your kind.
because, see, back in the 80's we were all told
(all the mixed kids, all the black kids, all the white kids)
to don't swim in Mifflin
because there's decomposed bodies & more.
my country tis of thee
she was killed savagely
dumped in the sea.
land where they pulverize
hacked off fingers in disguise.
city officials lied.
Gurcia May died.
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13. |
Wide Turn (interlude)
01:06
|
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|
on this Wide Turn
chicken hawk swoops down for some food
adios Vacation Bible School
cornstalks baked to a marigold
scores of adventures to behold
South 13/West 96
Chicano/Skinheads what a killer mix.
on this Wide Turn
think I need to do some runs.
I don't need them, i'm the way.
|
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14. |
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|
Carol paints a smile on his face
especially after his mama died.
uses damn near every colour scheme.
this is a Pop-Song Potential line.
omitting his swarthy hands.
see Carol sashay down the street.
smile packed with blades of gravity.
I quickly learned he had a few degrees
in nursing and Human Psychology.
I try to blend in the doorway.
wasn't exactly in vicinity when I was needed.
maybe that's why the scripts been flipped.
I've laid myself off from everyone.
this is how my jonquils without rain must grow strong.
Friday night my fantasies committed sideways
as close as I've ever tried.
actually knowing how everyone would size it, hurt me.
multiplied twice that night I cried.
mourning 'cos I passed off into decomposition decades ago.
how did I stabilize my relics?
I became a hoe...
|
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15. |
tires & scientology
06:06
|
|||
|
a brickyard meet up point
of the singer & the writer.
a plastic bottle of vino stealthfully concealed.
they scout perimeter of dilapidated whorehouse.
Hey Day estate for shadow play
or perhaps a rental space.
but the POPO always gotta ruin shit.
on Daisy Street they saw childhood remnants lain waste.
the tales of Mrs. Jones
whose house doubled as a food space.
& how she sold kids candy bars
& how she crammed those foodstamps in hosiery.
the kerosene that perfumed her mass of roaches.
tire graveyards everywhere that night.
so forgotten, so abandoned
'cos us humans always gotta ruin shit.
crept in outskirt bars laced with Steel Mill vacuum.
tales of recovery from a needle point existence.
& Juliette Lewis the brat
& the seething pain from chasing the dragon.
mind bending tactics of the cosmic elite.
scientology came clean that night.
so complex, long suffering
'cos the good life always gotta ruin shit.
the singer, the writer
buzzing on snakeskin trim,
whiskey at The Lantern.
the singer, the writer
waterlogged stuffed bear,
say Little Kentucky prayer.
tires & scientology.
|
||||
16. |
Claws Out (interlude)
01:06
|
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17. |
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|
line of chakras scythe single file
down the river
over cock hard rocks sparkling like skin of dinosaurs.
quicksilver waterfalls,
colossal shadows cast from clouds
camouflage the lush green land.
the wind; it's whispers shout.
the waterfalls reduce me to tears.
tremendous, sudden yearning for the absent ones
(a Moon that glows),
I wish u were there.
85 MPH winds ragdoll us to oblivion.
it's masochistic majesty, we bow down respectfully.
I never felt such peacefulness than in the stratosphere with friends.
I never had such clarity knowing good things must come to an end.
the waterfalls reduce me to tears.
tremendous, sudden yearning for the absent ones
(a Moon that glows),
I wish u were there.
when u continue to take accountability
for the unseen things
that u do, say, & think
then thank the wind
for it is the wind which liberates stagnation.
I had to turn away so no one would see.
I had to turn away.
the waterfalls made a child of me.
a maelstrom of invisibility
racing to either embrace u or banish u.
it can rob roof tops & destroy trees of iron.
it can disintegrate sweat drops
because it is gilded with grace & perfected with might.
joy, despair, downheartedness.
i'm in its pressure for u & u & u.
|
||||
18. |
||||
|
they constructed an isthmus
of lush greenery & ample ports.
not intended for settlers to inhabit, sell their goods.
it is for unity
brotherhood
sisterhood
breaking of bread
& the acknowledgment
of the feelings towards those held dear.
that strip of land binds two life forces
because when u find them
u claim them
u hold them
u love them
u learn them
u teach them
u love them
u are them.
kiss with starry eyes.
walk beside.
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19. |
||||
|
the full Moon caught me again, the cock.
don't lose me & I won't lose u.
nino de la Luna.
the sun may burn but the Moon always glows.
Antonio Villa Luna.
|
||||
20. |
||||
|
millimeter rendition is all I have.
not much.
all those times I should've died.
unworthy, so phony.
toasting elixirs to evil idols.
I was lost with no glow
but I glow
because la Luna.
thank you, God.
|
||||
Chico's Brother Mansfield, Ohio
a boy from the MOON with an autoharp who sings like Turquoise & Silver.
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