one time i thought about a guy with a bag on his head who chased us through the woods where we spent the night in a cabin. a bunch of kids got stoned and listened to black sabbath and the cure and their friend's band. the guy with the bag over his head was horny and so were we.

one time we took a trip to watch a movie in your mom's car and smoked a joint

i saw a sign it was selling notebooks to make swirls in while you listen to all of the new free music that is being supplied not really by the government or the economist magazine and i sat down to write while you knitted some socks that you might take to the sock market that says "sock market" in a big neon sign and you enjoy it like allen ginsberg enjoys reading religious texts he did not write himself, but he still admires the craftsmanship and authenticity

of them

while i do not learn about the biological workings of my guitar but still i know that it is an absurd magical instrument with a rich history

and it is fun to strum.

I'm lovin' it!

I am as happy of a piece of smoke. I am doing my meaningless job: listening to records on a Friday night. If you needed a roof, I would help you make one. Like love, a meaningless job.

horoscope

you are
possessed
and condemned