morning commute
ocean beach report
he told the wicked which, “you either know or you don’t”
take a saw to signs
the smooth bouncy voluptuous version
low-cut sweats asking where the skin starts
the awkwardness of conversation with those you’re supposed to have some in common with
pull pocket music machine, check title
tribulation
marc anthony killed himself
two minutes late makes you a half an hour late
old people run in more distinct ways than young people
the same corners, one after the other
each morning she stops at the same traffic light and looks at her right earring, tries to straighten her already straight hair with her fingers
I am the passenger and I ride and ride
sooner or later something near you is going to smell like piss
singing la la, la la la la
it’s too late he thought, to not sound like someone
no one ever said to her once, “you know you remind me of someone”
if you’re waiting for it to connect keep waiting
I know you but you don’t know me which doesn’t make a difference, or isn’t a difference, and says nothing
boy scouts is early military training
benches and trash cans are dying to be leaves
baby, you and I will never be the same
he thought his mood would end but it filled up for gas in santa nella because christy and evelyn said it was cheap there
she cut her own bangs and everyone thought it looked terrible
old people smoke in more distinct ways than young people
painting or labeling a phone number on your vehicle is a commitment
noise is scarier
sometimes you say something you don’t mean by trying to say something you mean
lake merced
waking up stopped seeming strange in 1985
pinks chimneys
gold coast
a cliff in la jolla that doesn’t allow thinking
I want to take you there
the guitar part you were waiting for
the smell in churches
the wood in courtrooms
tongue on the roof of your mouth
every word you’re never going to hear me say because you got in the way
the way we anchor everything in the ground
forest whitaker’s reflection in a car window
look again, it all leads down
my mother and father, so fuck the rest of you
I like the word “still” still
which way will it fall
I’ve never said a word, not one. idiot kids in bad glasses are straining harder than me, just trying to fit in
goodness gracious
don’t stare
choosing a parking spot in any mall parking lot
patrons
there was a girl when I was eleven who wanted to kiss me but I was afraid because she had a roughneck boy following her around
eleven years old, bathing suit falling off, have I ever loved anyone more than that
of course I have
davinci
no parking any time
seven or eight songs
everyone putting their hands to their ears constantly. buzz buzz, talk talk
always in bloom, 9 volts worth
the baby needs a paint job
he told the wicked which, “you either know or you don’t”
take a saw to signs
the smooth bouncy voluptuous version
low-cut sweats asking where the skin starts
the awkwardness of conversation with those you’re supposed to have some in common with
pull pocket music machine, check title
tribulation
marc anthony killed himself
two minutes late makes you a half an hour late
old people run in more distinct ways than young people
the same corners, one after the other
each morning she stops at the same traffic light and looks at her right earring, tries to straighten her already straight hair with her fingers
I am the passenger and I ride and ride
sooner or later something near you is going to smell like piss
singing la la, la la la la
it’s too late he thought, to not sound like someone
no one ever said to her once, “you know you remind me of someone”
if you’re waiting for it to connect keep waiting
I know you but you don’t know me which doesn’t make a difference, or isn’t a difference, and says nothing
boy scouts is early military training
benches and trash cans are dying to be leaves
baby, you and I will never be the same
he thought his mood would end but it filled up for gas in santa nella because christy and evelyn said it was cheap there
she cut her own bangs and everyone thought it looked terrible
old people smoke in more distinct ways than young people
painting or labeling a phone number on your vehicle is a commitment
noise is scarier
sometimes you say something you don’t mean by trying to say something you mean
lake merced
waking up stopped seeming strange in 1985
pinks chimneys
gold coast
a cliff in la jolla that doesn’t allow thinking
I want to take you there
the guitar part you were waiting for
the smell in churches
the wood in courtrooms
tongue on the roof of your mouth
every word you’re never going to hear me say because you got in the way
the way we anchor everything in the ground
forest whitaker’s reflection in a car window
look again, it all leads down
my mother and father, so fuck the rest of you
I like the word “still” still
which way will it fall
I’ve never said a word, not one. idiot kids in bad glasses are straining harder than me, just trying to fit in
goodness gracious
don’t stare
choosing a parking spot in any mall parking lot
patrons
there was a girl when I was eleven who wanted to kiss me but I was afraid because she had a roughneck boy following her around
eleven years old, bathing suit falling off, have I ever loved anyone more than that
of course I have
davinci
no parking any time
seven or eight songs
everyone putting their hands to their ears constantly. buzz buzz, talk talk
always in bloom, 9 volts worth
the baby needs a paint job
posted by gradylove at 2:20 PM
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