Tuesday, August 20, 2013

BEAUX BRIDGE Louisiana

SLUSHPUPPIE
Hard out for sugar pump
Give it a good one
Take to it-sugar it
squeeze the old pump
down-pump till your ice turns 

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Smile Swamp Princess has heritage in the swamp.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Come Exploring-February 2011




Come exploring, the trail less traveled if they exist Adorned with orange
                                        Brown
                                                      Red
                                                               Yellow

And other blends of autumn
Oh and green

Kids going wild in Taunton, cramming the ally
Sucking down cigarettes and hollering into each
Others eyes

While music and a bar running low on ice jive with the madness
Amplifiers blasting and hot wires and cables around as if a web from a drunken spider got spun on the floor
A smooth
                  Thick
                             Black
                                        Web

Beers splashing out of their hands all over the floor
The mad kids from Taunton carrying the dark night away as in the arms of their girls and away from the city lights the next morning there is blood in the headlines with nine years of war

Out to big dream sea
Floating with a companion down a sleepy dream
Blue Hill Avenue before the rise of sun planet
I got to the office, and told the lady I was going to grab some lunch before lunch, so I drove over to Cedar Street talked with my old man about the depressing articles in the Boston Globe

He drank hot water from the kettle while I got sugared up on some coffee
The community and kids
Getting gunned down and the hush of not knowing
The guy in Ohio that could not get a vein for lethal injection
Then my old man said

“Shooting them works”

So the guy in Ohio, they poke him with needles for two Hours then decide to re-configure procedure of lethal Injection
That’s it I’m out
Bring a book or something or just move next year some Place
Surreal with nature flourishing with tornados
I could tell Her (G) to meet in the middle
Between the jaws
Or something smooth
That rolls our bones
Hey you
Rainbow lover getting lost in a waterfall going creek-Side
To be lazy in the field lost
Among so many blooms fading on the last suckle of summer with dirty shoes tracking in the mud and dirt
Oh well
Really well
I start through the halls to stay out of the pouring rain
Then the loud speaker comes on

“Mr. Justin Johnson please report to the main office!”

Dang Almost made it, I walk backwards and the office secretary requests that I stay in the library or teachers lounge, the lounge is dark with misery of those bad breathed breathers lurking around with cowboy coffee and desire to get the hell in there with the buzz.

I chose the library, which was empty besides well
Books
Computers
A librarian
Electric sleep, which reminds me that I didn’t get much
Last night
Last morning up and in a shower with the window open so I can see the shrubs and garbage cans.
Trees going wild
Rushing and dripping heavy beads off their leaves
Tossed and turned gripping their roots into the mud
Deep and wide from here to here
They rage outside the window so it is all right to be inside while its dull outside
Grey day
Grey pants
Say it is so
How she (G) lingers
How she moves
                              Does it happen more than what seams
                              To be a brief moment in this life-time


                              I saw a large flock of crows
                              Going about from wires to trees
                              In the dawn hours these crows
                              Silhouetted against the dark hazy
                                            
                                                               Grey
                                                                        Blue
                                                                                 Morning

I finished a peasant meal and walked slowly out of the 24 hour coffee joint still thinking about the large flock of crows and smoked a cigarette out of the rain

Everyone is cool, the plumbers and the Iron workers
Their bosses, and their suits
Ties go a choking
Nice shoes the whole deal
Steal toes
With all this talk about spirits I really love
Love
I put your (G) headphones on and told you that I like
This song
Walking through these deserted streets
Got a whistle coming out my teeth
Run around up the hill YELLING
Just for fun
Show me your world and I’ll show you the hell of it
The cold a grey are coming on strong with everything
In its place

Feeling as tho breath is slipping and beat perhaps it is
Just a mood
Danced out all the whiskey then started walking to far In the middle of the night
Walked until it was to cold to talk on the phone
Catching the lawn on fire
Cambridge Massachusetts at 3 am with dried cold
Sweat stinking up my pants
Click ticking all day the Internet connections buzzing
And humming
                           Click
                                    Click
                                             Click

We can take care of each other (G) and murder the Depressive chaos of it all.
Oh wait
No
It is just typical Ha!
I’ll throw on a smile
And believe that it is all-all-right

Lost at a mutiny of the mind
Drove out in a rain storm pealing out of the slopped
Driveway
The freezing rain pouring down
It was so difficult getting out of that 48-degree angle of
The most terrible ideal of a drive that I kno longer keep My VW in slip in slide
I almost gave up and stayed in Boston
Then spinning some burning rubber and steam coming
Off the rotten leaves I blasted Ol’ Butter-clutch (VW)
Out of the Drive with the stereo Blasting
I took a breath that I thought about
Anxious and I soothe to calm
At stop lights I searched for matched or something to
Light my last cigarette
Mad matches yet no striker
So I pulled over in a puddle and bought a lighter
Two dollars seamed real steep for a lighter
I took a big squeeze and let the rain come into
The window
Kept Herbie coming through the boom box and
The rain through the window
Trailing the mist off the autos in the front I passed and
And gunned it to 80 miles an hour with wide-eyes and
Floated feet spraying that gasoline turbo booster
Keeping the wiper speed less than turbo so that my
Heart rate would remain slow and easy
Peeled exit 13 off
Driving in the October rain seams such a mission in the
Old jalopy feel getting washed out

Terror

Burrowing under a quilt and I did not move much
Super thoughts and day-mars
Tall and slender
Long legs laced with black lace leggings with those rose
Floral designs
Black sunglasses
Superior confidence waiting in lines
And then everyone talks of the slush
They (GP’s) call up from Texas said they saw sno
On the football field in Massachusetts on the television

She walked in and that stuck
As moss nestles in the swamp

The last of the peasant meal was the tomato seeds
Green tea’s its winter and its
Well
Still autumn
Hot drink time
Got to tell them to make it extra chocolate-lee
Rich and dark
Hot on my tongue smooth going down
Celebratory dance once my lips have met yours
Sugar down at the bottoms
So darling your sweetness is the last to decide to leave
For ever

Ideals shot off the sword
Shields made of great teeth
Showing smile
Deflecting useless sorrows

Everyone is cool when it turns night
The dance lights go flash and strobe with wild faces
I can still smell
I can taste the ill feeling rock of ice over rum and cokes
I can still feel that bottle on the way western just a bit
         Over                                                                          Island
                  The                                                      Rhode
                           Boarder                               To
                                             Massachusetts


East gone to chasing the sun with those hurricane
Waves of the summer that never was
Rush
To the BAR
How did we get it when we (cool) so cool getting a
Long Island ice tea seconds with Cape Cod-Ders
Getting that greasy smell coming up to my nose

I can still taste the lips of a (G) kiss on the beat
In-between the stricken move of hips and sips of
Our seemingly large and knock out Long Island’s
I can still see the lighter hit a Camel taking a drag
Swing the arm twist and shout with the oh so sweaty
Vintage.
Swing and spin getting the bodies close cigarettes
Stomped out
Drink thrown down and cups kicked over to the edge
Yes baby we got both hands to move and
Yes baby grab my face

Twist and twirl I really enjoyed throwing in a high kick
With passion in the eyes and sweat off the chin
Thrust back and look to the strobe and those green
Pumps flash
Another cigarette with the nightlong

I can still smell the beer and sweat and cool
Years dancing away on the beaten floor of
CLUB HELL!
It was our thing all the (G) friends came out we packed
Into station wagons and VW’s with Vodkas going down

I was eighteen years old
Made up with a rhythm that I loved to dance with (G)
When that memory smell comes in
When I can smell the inside of my nose and it has its
Own distinct nurture of wow the inside of my body
Stinks
When being cool was running up hoping not to wait in
In the freezing providence night of February
No reason to bring in a sweatshirt
We sweat our brains out and drank our hearts out
It is the point to rush in fun so
I did not dwell on the rapid-manic-ness on dance

I don’t really have any place to be right now
The beauty of it
On a bench on the statue walk with the sun eating through the leaves and Commonwealth Avenue
Humming with vehicles and hurried people
Have not moved much

Frayed ropes on fire held upon the
Cliffs above the sea crashing on
Boulders
Bones and
Old diesel motors

SOo fancy
Wicked fancy
Its hot, 
Glutton gettin pints and bars of chocolates and ice Cream!
Peasants can be gluttons a day or two. 

Thinking bout you.
The summer that never was
Hitting the past with a cheap beer can and a whirl wind

And then the now
With wonderings and holidays 
Dog duty tomorrow, thats what i've been told
Halla 
Freaking out, babies in the house, families from the Roots of mid-west
Riding Oklahoma 
Texas
Massachusetts
Ocean
Sex
Post office
Postage
Specialty
33674267879991230 expires 1111
November here we come 
To an end
And will it ever 
Ever tomorrow


To think where these hands have gone
Into the softest of touch
Onto the sharpest of blood drawing blades
Into the dirtiest motors of 1940’s MG’s
Onto to the laces of shoes driven from Rhode Island
                  To
                      The
                              Highways 80                                   through
                                                                       &
                                             To 40                                   through
                                                      South Pennsylvania


Into the mouth of her pulling at the inside of her cheeks
Onto the curves and blonde tiny hairs which not quite
                  Micro-yet leave peaks and turns

Into you                                                                Her
                  When                                          with 
                             I                                   on
                               Get                     Get
                                      Into          I
                                               You
                 

For split melting seconds of quite hurricane-ed images
Of the ocean
Onto the power of how its swells carry my body
Into my mind with rolodex flips of


Solid passion

It overcomes me.