Monday, September 6, 2010
sometimes it is so hard and sometimes it oozes out like Mrs. B's
i am gonna get a tattoo that says homegirl! and maybe it'll be a tramp stamp. i'm gonna get a tattoo & that'll finally make me a tramp. i'll hobo my heart cross your U.S. i'll hobo my words and teeth until they are fireflies in your memory and you will put them in a jar and shake them and when they die and are only desiccated insecty things you'll realize how ugly your memories were all along. then you'll get a tattoo & it won't be words & it won't be pictures & your tattoo'll firefly you across the U.S. & you'll follow me, you'll skateboard on my ass but you'll never catch me cos i'm freighting, i'm train-hopping, i'm amtraking, i'm free & freeganning and i dropped all that extra weight in your jar; i left it with you to drag you down.
right now i am just musicing. i am listening to what Casualty listens to when he's not comatosestoned and what Homegirl listens to when she thinks of her boys and what Richboy listens to after he's crushed that tadpole and what Punkboy listens to when he's all postsex mellow nostalgiacy cos some Punkboys listen to more than punk and they read words that were once pocketed teeth, too.
Yours in training,