Sunday, October 24, 2010

BABY I GOT A PLAN (runaway fast as u can)

This shit kills.
Damn it hurts. Which way to go.
Up down all around. Eat some fruit.
Drink the tea. Run outside, back and forth.
Yoga time. Yoga violence. Yoga magic, midnight magic.
Melatonin mash-up. Full moon fatality.
Freedom rings, freedom rings.
What was I supposed to say?
That was the best burrito I ever had.
It was filled with love.
Vegan. The Mexican.
Talking about David Lynch.
The metal band.
Her lips.
The other band.
The T-shirt I bought.
The T-shirt I wore.
The T-shirt he wore.
The flannel he brought.
The deck we were on.
The ghost clock tower.
Randy the Robot.
The mist in the air.
The puddle with the fallen leaves in it.
The new car, the light up dashboard. The pink/red lights.
Skateboarding today.
Riding BMX today.
Pedaling home under the rainbow,
the triple rainbow.
What does it mean?
My Grandmother's furs.
The Coca-Cola.
The glass of water.
The melatonin. The moon through the jersey.
The unsent message.
The ignored e-mail.
The silly mistake.
The endless pain.
The physical pain.
The mental pain.
The hot bath.
The house plant.
The footjam.
The tire slide.
The bunny hop.
The pop-shuv-it.
The remix.
The video.
Kayne West's Runaway on
The retweet.
The sub-bass.
The soundscape.
The alarm clock.
The bird outside sleeping.
The cricket.
I poked her and she
poked me back.
The face wash, the lotion, the yoga.
Just do it.