4 May 2012

Smoke

Smoke

I love the way beer burns an empty stomach and leaves a buzz in an empty head. I love the feeling of minor vertigo produced by a lung full of green and the gentle rocking of my boat in the calmer waters dreamt of in my cooler quarter. Send me jazz messengers to soothe my mind and smooth out the corrugations of my life.

I deplore obliteration, but dig augmentation. I like a little spin now and then – to hone my edge and free up some space in my tool box. There are a billion jurors on my case who’ll condemn my predilections as errant criminality, but I pay no attention to dogs with no teeth. I like to cultivate a little distance between myself and the unclean thing, ‘cause the unclean thing really twists my nuts.

Give me sun on my winter days and cool in my summertime. I want it all without compromise or exception. Give me the good things and drown the rest in forgetfulness. Send me the rolling thunder to rumble my cause – bring me ecstasy with no cost. I’m the living article; the concept and commodity cast in the shape of man. On any given morning I’m the alpha and omega – the beginning and the end wrapped in the cotton brain of innocence. I’m all I ever could be, or should be in the shadow of the eternal now.

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