honesty

eat sweets, get fat,
drop beats, smoke crack,
i dont rap, i just write,
cause i'm afraid of the mic.

en route to work.

the trigger hook on my backpack
snaps back, i look, see rats, another
sick cat creeps past in the alley,
this is hopeless, the notebooks
filled with notes; this thought, like grim rope
of noose hung in trees swings in the breeze of
the limited life of my lyrical
rhyme scheme possibilties.

bass drum dreams and dramamine

Its a wonder i cant find the
things i have discovered in my past lives,
taking for granted this could be my last life.
i should wander through my memories
of lovers, drugs, and other sweet
indulgences my body has digested.
i should search for them so
i don't feel so restless.

huntington.

reading old poems,
thank strangers, not god, for life,
drink vodka,
this is new brunswick.
kiss girls who feed me grapefruit,
so sour, yet so sweet.
three kind of drinks to keep me
appreciative, numb,
get splashed by an SUV on the stumble home.
working tomorrow.
what was her name?
she fed me grapefruit.

slightly less boring news update#2

here's the good news:

i have a new project planned out.
somewhere in between noise and no-wave.
album name is picked out, will most likely be around
the same number of tracks all of my releases
have been..

bad news is, i dont know where that will leave HaHa for now.
I'll probably still toy with it a bit, i need to figure it out more, but
this other project idea kindof jumped out at me first.
expect something new by next year.

that sounds a lot further away than it actually is.