LAMP DUST IS THE LAMB'S SKULL IN CONDENSED SWEAT OF A BUS'S WINDOW.

HUMIDITY. HUMUS.

FUNGUS. TANGO.
COMPOSED THE RIGHT SQUARE

Rabbit Talk

Arithmetic arithmetock
Turn the hands back on the clock
How does the ocean rock the boat?
How did the razor find my throat?
The only strings that hold me here
Are tangled up around the pier

And so a secret kiss
Brings madness with the bliss
And I will think of this
When I'm dead in my grave
Set me adrift and I'm lost over there
And I must be insane
To go skating on your name
And by tracing it twice
I fell through the ice
Of Alice

Waits

she loves nature
she loves laughter
she loves lsd
she loves sex

and she chose me.

she says i smell so good
and my eyes are beautiful
she feels like a teenager again she says
says i'm young but not dumb

she wants to fuck me so bad.

she understands but still she freaks out
and keeps saying i'm a good guy
keeps saying that i'm so sweet
but still she's frustrated she says

we have similar past stories.

...and didn't sleep.

B-SIDE OF BEE LIFE

brainstorm in alcohol

ODE TO WILD BEARS

HAPPY FAMILY (a cavar nas vísceras)

JACK DENIALS BRING FUTURE HARM AS DISEASES.
CRAWLERS ARE DODGERS, AND ORPHANS BE FALLERS IN CRISIS.
JUNKIES ARE NOT BUMS! THE ONLY BUMS ARE BASTARDS.
BASTARDS MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND.
BUT ONLY MARY GOES ROUND IN THE WORLD.

SEX IN THE BEACH
SEXIN' THE BITCH

Clay Johnny: Part 3

In a paranoid struggle
I jumped off Michelle's rear,
I ran away bungle
convinced I was leer.

I was sick of the spinning,
but never had the courage to tell her.
So now I was rambling
and now I was wondering
the evil I'd been to her.


My clay was too dry,
and I was dying for water on my skin.
So I got sad and started to cry,
and tears revitalized me and washed away my sins!

Now I was changed and firm as concrete,
and I was sure of what I wanted.
Only one thing would make me complete!
But for her, I was now obsolete.
Looked away while I fainted.

(She could keep riding alone, and went back to France...)

Clay Johnny: Part 2

Time passed...
But landscape stood the same.
Seasons were running fast
I was the only one who changed.

My clay skin was now drying,
as I was getting older.
I felt I was close to dying
and Michelle would keep on riding
and always feeling stronger.


For ever she would hang on to life
and to that beautiful Merry-Go-Round.
She was stable, I was wobbly
on her torso, carried up and down.

Scratching in despair
i wounded her.
But she was strong enough to bear.
Not being fair, I did not care
and my clay became bitter.

(She would never let the ride end...)

Clay Johnny: Part 1

Friends called me Scissorhands,
and I thought it was cliché.
My hands were almost normal,
Eyes and carcass made of clay.

Family gave me no name,
but used to call me moonstruck.
They thought I was insane
and existence was vain
with such tough luck.


I named myself Johnny Eye
and found an imaginary friend.
We promised to be together 'till we die,
and our bodies turn to sand.

Her name was Michelle,
and she was a voyager from France.
She was a beautiful horse from a carousel,
and there was where she dwelt
and where we would ever dance.

(She would never let me fall...)

never more i will let you down, if you still need me.

Lamp's Dust

The dust on this lamp shall never be cleaned up. But keep that lamp well locked in the safe, make me never look at it again.
Lock me well in another safe, save me to save anothers, swallow the key, bury your stomach.
We're all going to be mud, in the end, you don't need to drink your own eyes.

time pass... and time passed.

I'm now cleaning this lamp, it's too dusty and I want to read. At night, I need that light, so I blow and make the dust fly suspended by invisible strings.
Now I can see better everything, and the details I missed in this room. I can see beauty now.

time stop. and reprogram it.

Welcome the young new dust but never let it lay down still. Leave the old grandfather's clock, give it freely, be generous. Change it for a nice watch and wind it the first time, and on and on.

time refresh. and time reloaded me.

in between life and decomposition

I HAD A HAVEN

Chapter Minus Zero

Streets dry tears and hustle shades of the greasy sidewalk
and Poe's ravens shrill cry, and pierce night's bloody tympana.
night turns to dream, turns to nightmare, turns amusement park,
no reality's intended to be trusted, so we hide in the shadows,
we drink from the gutter, we eat the moss of rot walls...

"nevermore" they weep...
and the calm of the night is no more than a child illusion of sleepy fairy tales,
the calm is the wait, and the wait pre-dictates the kill
covered by the honey melody of wounded animals and struggle.
and bugs try not to buzz, and snakes reach tree tops and hail the moon...

and they all try to figure out the blurry words you left me
under the grooviness of a shredded black square on pen lines
and they all scream "nevermore" while reading the Chapter Zero,
and tell ancient tales of past memories and burn forbidden books...

and i end up on the floor of the rusty bar 'round the corner,
lightened by languishing yellow lamps, gulped in cheap red wine
and i drown... i drown in the sorrow of the last words you left me.
and i write them down and wait for the broken clock to save time and vanish rage...

with time, he says... and the pointers never dare a step,
and the bell clapper's apathetic and quiet as hell...
and I'm injected with poison of broken dreams,
and dream broken truth...

and i wait while the darkness goes, inebriated for the day...
a man of mettle walks under a wooden dreadnought...
retired vampire, junkie, bum...
his iron knuckles could smash any solid glass heart, and melt the ice we freeze in...

We're down to minus zero Centigrade degrees...
We're down to minus zero altitude and under dirt...
and your photograph just fell off my wall like an autumn leaf...