Tuesday, February 23, 2010

The new school

The bar owner turns his head and hisses.
He knows, I know.
I only want a taste.
She doesn't trust me.

Fucking animals.
Sloshing scrambled streets
pure audacity
aware of the demographic.

The city is deteriorating
not from the flocks and masses,
but the interior.
Taunt are the fibers,
we call the neighborhood.

"Now back in New York...Yah know?"
Taking a slow dive
on the wrong fight.

Welcome to the new school.
Respect for the past.
Disregard for the present.
Idealistic future.

Disappointed by many
Not at all by myself.

The mute girl
sings a sad song

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

The hard always find a way.

In close calculations.
Ethanol mornings.
Spitting warm milk on pink walls.
Baby. Baby. Baby.
You have done your bidding, with unfiltered resolve.
I have no choice but to slay the beast.

The easy know no better.
The hard always find a way.