Summered (thinking ahead)

[machinery]

seeking redemption & recooperation from this stale punching bag, bruised of years, misuse & sharp fists -- hanging from a hollow rust chain - hanging from a sole nail beat into to construction of this summered battered bard machinery -- where I come to lay - seek genius, lazy thinky on the fact of my futures, write vigorously, smoke tea and think of you sweet blond beaut angel of mind.

Yea...
just a thought of what's to come...

Nights on my roof, wandering eyes to & through the christmas light twinkles in the sky -- how I wish mischievously & abusively - but only to enlighten my hope, shutting my eyes from the reality seeping through the gravel below this roof - that I call the palace of night thoughts -- here on the square scrap tar-tile surface.

Summer of breaths hung slow lazy crazy in the anxious decadent breeze - and my mind escapes me momentarily - evaporating seeking being almost--meditative -- immediately taking me back to Thom and I in the lounge of our 2nd floor residence, lights out...indian style sitting on seperate couches spread against different walls - trying to capture total concentration - but not - too much street jazz outside the open glass - We heard the moan of Adelaide...

[Crazy John]

jesus

is he a man?
fish and bread, there were no cheese flans

WHY DID HE DIE ON THE CROSS?? WHY LORD WHY?

because he was fucking nailed to the cunt

[parch]

machinery -
i really like this..it was smooth and enveloping. nice, nice.

i'd like to read it over just for the fun of it....

___---parch

[machinery]

really? what did you like about this?

I wish i could end my prose...what do you think???