Scat Skellsuns old lady.
Yes im a poor honey dripping bear in overalls and stupid look, ignorant, blank, and far away with the fish swimming in balance he closest thing to perfect i can muster and its really here like time that seems like it wont pass forever but does simply like time does, we make it do, we made it, so we decide, there is no real reference points for anything that is and will be and the things that exist are just what they were before anything more than existing was luxury and piano bars with champagne colors of water and deep dark ocean blue with white dots of stars spread out like us across yer big black bed, this is the west. Lincoln skyline, and here we are in the middle aching guts of sickly spoiled brat California and its northern half the brains of the being that is the state is full of bubblegum from the late ’80s and a hint of early ’90s cool older sister blowing perfect huge bubble from pink gum and a denim vest with a cool patch of the times so that in that moment it was so fine tuned and adjusted quickly and rehashing weeks old stiff garbage that is novelty in its fullest and what i cannot comprehend is how everything popular is so pointless and foolish and immature, way too cocky, way to ignorant, and way too worried about looking good and fuck feeling good, but feeling good too is safety when someone else is in the gutter soaked and asking for help which was so rare he always ran around for us and didnt ask for anything in return nor did he come up on the folks he helped, and then they would through clenched teeth give me a mile of bullshit about why they cant and its just excuse piled on excuse and lies and shifty saying to make you think its ok and they avoid any type of responsibility or any sort of realization that they might do things that are rude to others who they think are the lowlife, and so on and so on, with variations forever of dramas and relationships and all sorts of things that are the fine stitches of a small town gone big whore like the whole of our fair state here in the far west fucked dry and left to rot on the beach with the used coconut husks and dead jellyfish, occasionally a whale all bloated and smelling like earthy mushroom death and dry mold rot of asian dry foods in chinatown, roots and fungus and other plants that are dry and dusty and look really unappetizing….
and all that can be molded in words and pictures and other things manifesting through associations and music and feelings and through all that at the end of the hall down the stairs and finally though the basement hatch is my lady resting with my kitten and she is the ocean splashing waves of sight onto me lapping pale blue eyes that change light to dark depending on how wonderful she is, and skin to set it all calm seas without a solid sunset and there is goes across her cheek and her freckles aren’t childish or tomboy or ginger psycho, but fair clear sky of a face but milky like the moon when its big and her eyes the puddles that form from the erosion in her mind and the sandstorms in my skull and she is so kind to beastly me dumb and blushing clumsy i smash valuables with my burly figure and hope she will be pleased with me and my doglike dignity. im a jitterbug boy, and a stiffneck animal rambling like the crow and the bird call and all the animal calls sounding through waves of the night and into her mind is me a little sperm of a dream sitting hands on chin and beard ruffling. we hug after my trip to the gold fields and we are simple and america and we are just folks getting along with jokes a few cokes and a pack of smokes, sitting in the back hiding from the large black bees and the old barn cat that scratched out my jugular and made me so stiff in the neck i know what it feels like to be old and to have nothing phase you nothing is too extreme or weird, ”weird”, unique, crazy, sick, bro, or tight homie, just come show me and ill let you know, or dont its ok im still talking and typing and sometimes rapping with some gentle white boys here in our spread soft northern land rugged but soft and gentle with the kind words of a ranch hand during sunday breakfast. Come on back and see us sometime, we just growing organic materials to blow in the breeze and take up some space in the atoms. Here we are waving and i can tell her high yer pupils are so small and like the black hole of the universe shuddering slowly forever like cement mixer in a hallway. we are statues for you. I love you. i hope this is green like you wanted, we are just two greens in a gold, we’ll be dipped and set on a 1700s shopkeep bookshelf in the post world war two america that was calm and dusty and kerouac was too godfearing and i am godbeaten so we just shrug at each other semi irked and tired, so youll rub my neck and i will rub yer feet until you get wet and tom waits goes on about heartattack and vine im remembering the day we made it in the rat infested house and it was pure and care full of care that is. and goodnight dear, im tired and my neck is stiff and the words are going to start declining in quality if i dont keep my foot on them tap dancing and softshoe shuffle in the outside and the french mistake by night. but there she is on the other side of the smoke cloud smiling saying, lets get high.
