the back lakes (gene & oso)

there is no meaning these
dayys-

we pretend there is in our music & culture & society-
butt we have no culture.
what we have is not a society.

we are all big overgrown infants--
the rest of us- the disaffected-we are children--not babies butt lost children wandering, starving, killing, fucking, lying, stealing & all the while hiding from ourselves cuz our hearts are broken-
we fight to have our lives mean anything butt mostly end up casualties to our environments.
we can only hold out for so long until the lying, the stealing, the fighting & fucking darkens our minds to life's possibilities cuz our lives don't have potential.
our possible achievements become monuments of violence & apathy.

fuck you for thinking i am invisible
I.will.make.you.see.me.

i run this delicious fantasy thru my mind butt in the end the rich & powerful still oppress

we havent changed their minds & we are lost to our violent fantasies

crack rock city

where the cocaine rocks never comes smaller than a walnut and the crack rocks are as plentiful as there are street people roaming and ranting. it takes discipline to roam and run the streets for 37 years. that's how long chris had been hustling. chris saw me and chased me down, asking ridiculously benign questions. the answers i gave weren't that important. it was my demeanor. my tone of voice, my subtle facial expressions that no one but chris would have picked up on. and the fact that he was high as a kite on speed or coke, he was a very astute man. but i am a shrewd man.

i needed more insight into this man's character before i would venture off into darker--and somehow even dirtier streetstreetsfeaturesafter getting properly acquainted I love