bazingazongofzixpenze

i just wanted to see if i could post something from the future (check the date).
yep, i can.

freeasabyrdinhandlbarcodereddingalingo

the other night i was driving as i drove. it was late late late. no other headlights on the freeway. pink floyd was encouraging syd to shine on. and he was, as was i. and i was drowsily drifting--across planes more than lanes--and the journey seemed longer than usual, unusually. and i dreamily wafted and hazybrain softed. and the road was as long as an ain't heavy song. and it was peaceful but somehow painstaking. and again i clouded how lengthy the trip: why not home as of yeti? so driving along. so whisper. so long. so at loss with the albatross neck of my need. so like liquid as lazily taking the lead. so entirely tiring tiresome deed. so my eyes swam around to the meter of speed...

and i was going 35 mph.

35.

dedications:
sarah gets the beatles' croonygoonfest "you know my name (look up the number)," with hopes of nominal blade.
abigail, gage, & gracie get on their feet to a slew of sly & the family stone, sequenced so they get high on stuff like "life" and "stand," do some "soul clappin'," get their funk on to "thank you (falettin' me be mice elf agin)" and "if you want me to stay," and then cool down to the likes of "hot fun in the summertime" and "everybody is a star" (much to their parents' relief).
sexy d gets the vines' "autumn shade" (I, II, and newly acquired III).
em gets thomas dolby's "she blinded me with science" (statistics to be exact)
and the who's "happy jack" goes bouncingly back to cooper, with thanks and aluminum.

weed 'em & reap.

unrelated: apollocreeds to those up with hewn i should keepsake.

ONE:squanderedheadsofshakingpotential. wrong may be all right.
TWO: doesn't.
THREE: is.
andFOURmost:

i'd sideline in the Chicago Sandburg knew.
my shovel dutifully driven.
bandana red and shed.
under the trees, accordianly.

rosencranberryguildensternwhileyoulearn

a poem:
so few and far between are bloggy postings from my foggy brain,
and zombie fingers dance across the hokey-pokey keys in vain.
before the end of summer lying backward looking upward comes,
pathology of path (insert the new) --------subtract divisive sums.

a pod:
i find myself walking everywhere and lose myself walking back. i check out a novel, a play, and a book of poems each library visit and read them all ravenously. i finish giant slurpees not two blocks from the 7-eleven from whence they came.

a peach:
if scott's mustache is any indication, the world may have gone to it's proverbial destination in a handbasket, but also come back---a little burnt around the edges, but still soft in the middle. someone quite careful must have little red riding hood ridden it through. or maybe it was a rescue mission. watch out for the cats who guard the gate. they don't even flinch when your headlights roar up (synecdochous, no?).

dedications:
annie gets "nap time" and "thank you for encouraging me to post, even though i'm not sure why you would want to read all this absurdity" by the sometime folk duo that opens for itself as a trio (with trumpet).
rachel gets "don't worry baby" by the beach boys, and tries not to dwell on the automobillion.
mom gets the 9-minute version of "bluebird" by the buffalo springfield.
dad gets "magic bus" by the who, or whatever his computer selects.
i get what i deserve (not always bad) to a column 2 soundtrack.
and she (not alone) hears dylan in the distance with a live version of "just like a woman" (lyrical changes noted).

what if the truth is what i've suspected in paranoid all alonging?

sporadishelterfromthestormymundane

in dreamily curve of a long time agoing
when two 2s were feivel goes westerly bound
the coxon of can't looking gloss over almost
was under my fingers familiar and found.

and the pensilver spin of the over and out
of the sewn at the torn of the seams and desist
formed a lucidly lining cantational quota:
the love i have left and the lips i have kissed.

dedications:
"andy wahol" by the david of bowie not smallish or vast running upward is soon.
just look at the pictures, you there. and all of you.
"every night" by paul mccartney goes unpluggedly falsettoing out to scott and maybe.
(and while we're at it, "mull of kintyre" goes out to dirty dave duffy.)
mel gets something with leg-warmers, but not "flashdance," for obvious reasons.
mal gets a little bit of foo fighter "resolve" and a lot of sleep.
and a trio for dre:
the beach boys' "surfer girl" cause she does,
the beatles' "no reply" cause she doesn't,
but most of all "just watch the fireworks" by jimmy eat world

justasnapshotinthedarkarkofnope

schoolio ouch in the worserandworser
and witheringweathering
olive the time.
an hourglassonion would look intonation
alternative futurepaths.
whimsicalwhime.

though needle complain-o-the-drain-o the less
might helpburgerhammer to antelope stress.

i admittromney that i'm not surelytemple about whatever i just saddled.
someday it mayflower off the hizzandherzle.

dedications:
"if you leave me now" by chicago (with feathered-haired cetera at the helm) drips sappily into the sauce.
"put down that brick" by probably pavlov sets zombieslayer's dial to simmer.
and "2cold4com4t" shivers up my own spine.

i will build a giant waffle iron and climb inside.