5/1/2005
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"somebody shoot the pilot",
i heard someone exclaim as i snuk into a dream about the mother land.
some one was standing at eighteenth and burnside reciting holy scripture there.
i saw a flash of light and thought it was a fantastic river we waited for it to invite us over for rowdy rock jumping and underwater pebble collecting.
a woman knocked my socks off with the aid of binary code , i just couldnt stop shaking my ass.
metal and rubber magically turned itself into the magic carpet of my life story, i peddled through woven traffic on it and at midnight at times.
war and walled water were wonder twins. we were many, names didnt matter, neither did numbers.
i saw switchblades on occasion and was taken over by independence and independent ocean waders.
i smashed at the air with tentacles of sound and felt selfish.
little birds were everywhere and nowhere simultaneously.
i cheered for the cheerleaders then found my place amongst the whisperers.
moonlike cement stuctures were undeniably spectacular and filled with specters.
i wished to have a cape on and imagined brick shit houses, was let down, content and foolishly intent upon it..
there were dance moves yet to be mastered.
vomit was sold to the highest bidder.
belief was ignored.
bridges werent neccesarily neccesary.
sports cars arrived in the form of rythmic beatlike persuasion, they were irresistible, we followed them around like rats.
everone i knew was fat from it .
beautiful beggers begave bountiful ledgers, wealth was ignored and neglected as well.
nobody ever ever fell except for me.ever,
dreams were never ever needed. never
the misters were masters of listless blisters.
masked headers were better netters.
all of my friends were all of my lovers and breakfast was never better.
the wet streets where we waited for messengers were always wetter than the wonderfully wet weather.
the desert was a daydream where there were unending supplies of beer when fear reared its ugly head.
the streets were beds for dads, brothers,sisters, wives and mothers.
and nothing ever died or was dead, ever either
in the motherland.
.. . . ... . . . ... . . .. . . .
i miss it there completly but cant go back until i find the proper gift to return with.
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