bag is hot

the crash

Tue, 20 Jan 2009 17:07:10 -0500

If I died tonight would I be proud of the way I conducted my life?

The seventeen year olds face was bloody

In the night our van slammed into snowy road driver side

She swerved in front of us

Sibyl driving

Us in the back watching a movie without seatbelts

On down the road

Like we had countless times before

Countless lives before

Only this time we were stopped by damned youth on their way home from shitty fast-food jobs

I got out quick the van was still halfway on the road

Forked in 90 degrees the trailer smashed up against the back

Sibyl ran to the girl

When she got out we heard cymbals crash

Like the end of a bad song

Or waking up into a nightmare

Sibyl had said oh god we’re gonna crash

And then I looked up and saw the car in front of us

And it all went slow and fast at the same time

I grabbed hold of my seat and then

We crashed

And the world spun as nature and fate kicked us back and forth

Like a hackey sack over dantes inferno

Or a junkyard soccer ball wanting a goal at the gates of heaven

Only this time we hit the post and bounced back into the field of the living

Our lives

These terribly delicate things

Just hanging there like needle and thread

Over the holes in the world

A passenger was walking in the cold with black short sleeves

In a state of shock

Was I and he

Getting out from a visionless space onto the scene of threatening chaos

You are bewildered and hyper present

I told wiz and Kraig to get out of the van whose front end was all smashed and pressed against the wheel

Everyone seemed to be ok

Kraig said his leg was hurt and gave a scream right after it happened

Wiz seemed all right

I turned on the hazards and went up the bank of snow to the girl whose face was dark with blood and motionless except for a quiver

Has anyone called 911? I asked.

Yes but call again said sibyl

I got my phone but it took a second to figure out how to use it

Still in shock I guess

Even now as I write still just thinking of the girl

As her face came alive as I was

On the phone with operator

The girl squealing like a wounded animal

So frightened

Why is my face wet?

Squealing

I don’t want to die

My back hurts

Sweetie don’t move

It’s the only thing 911 said

That and the ambulance is coming

And no yer not gonna die

But how did I know

I didn’t

She was real fucked up

Her driver side door all caved in from the front of a big van and trailer

Heading down the highway

Soon a cop came

Then another

And another

And then emergency workers and firemen until there was a whole city of lights and emergency vehicles created around the scene

And suddenly night was day as big lights were hoisted all around off of trucks and things

And a big crew of emergency workers around her trying to eradicate her from her phony metal tomb

Her fear her squeals as they rolled her onto a stretcher ran from the ice around my frozen feet up into my heart and into the center of my mind

The absurdity of life and death and the thin line it’s all built upon

Now here

In this hotel

This nowhere

All I see is her face

Its weird

When we got in the cop car

Radiohead was on the stereo

singing

God loves his children

God loves his children yeah

Didn’t know how to take it

I hope that girl makes it out of that hospital in one piece

Able to walk and run down the street

I asked an emergency worker if we could check on her but he said no

Its oddly intimate like being in a war together

And the knowledge of the results of intertwining karma seems like relevant and even vital information

But life doesn’t stop being cold and ruthless just because of yer sudden awareness of its frailty

And then she was gone

And I was dealing with a tow truck and unable to feel my feet

Like numb blocks standing in disturbingly fancy boots

I should be more than I am I thought

Strange that there are situations where designer boots can make you feel like an asshole

The EMT workers kept asking us if we were ok

We kept looking at each other and saying

Yeah I think so

A little sore is all

How do we honor this life enough?

How do we protect it enough?

Maybe you cant on both counts

I certainly could do better

Be more present

More generous

More real

More vital

But then we all need and choose pockets of escape

And when the days drone on

It’s easy to take it all for granted

When death isn’t bleeding in a car asking you for help

Or a girl of seventeen

Trying to escape a broken body

A smashed car on the edge of oblivion strangers of fate’s distance trying to tell us something from the place where snow falls

Photo

Fri, 05 Dec 2008 19:20:46 -0500

all the old heroes

Tue, 03 Jun 2008 15:31:56 -0400

all the old heroes

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Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:42:16 -0400

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Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:41:37 -0400

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Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:40:39 -0400

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Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:39:56 -0400

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Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:38:17 -0400

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Tue, 03 Jun 2008 14:37:25 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 02:05:11 -0400

reborn

Mon, 26 May 2008 01:52:00 -0400

reborn

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:45:34 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:38:48 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:37:54 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:36:50 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:35:51 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:31:45 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:29:35 -0400

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Mon, 26 May 2008 01:25:16 -0400

bones of generations

Sun, 25 May 2008 14:27:32 -0400

If I felt like it
I could ride back over to yer place
That little room with nothing on the walls
And wooden alligators at the foot of the bed
That little room
With yer tiny cactus growing and yer new microphone just singing by itself on a
stand
If I felt like it I could stay here and work on more music with my lo fi cobbled
together system of lunacy and bitterness
I stir with a wood stick or a spiritual cock to brew up a love exaggerated
Which stands to protect me from void
As movies never do
As books fill with dust
As bike trails still watch my ghost zooming up and down away from some sickly
demon
Never getting anywhere

Last night eating vegetarian food
Before u beat me 2 out of 3 games in pool
(The single lamest tournament of all time)
I had this strange and if you’ll forgive me epic thought

How intimate can a relationship get?
And isn’t pain the root of intimacy?
Like that of a child to a parent
Doesn’t that child learn and know his parents pain like it was his own?
And doesn’t it become his own?
And isn’t that the real bond?
Isn’t that the real love?
Isn’t that what we call family?
The pain connecting thru generations
Like ligaments attached to bones
A skeleton, which grows thru time
Thru thousands of years
I know my father so well
I know my mother too
Love is here also
Don’t get me wrong
But I am my father at 10 years old
Dejected in some room
Afraid to go outside
And I am also me here now
Thinking that those were strange thoughts to have with vegetarian food
I am also
Me as old
When none of this matters
Or maybe when it matters more
The spin of karma
The dance of samsara
Rock n roll is a joke
But I tell it really well
Maybe I’ll ride thru those dark streets
And we can watch something on the internet and breath in time until dawn comes
back up
And we fall asleep again
So that the wooden alligators may become real
And play with our feet
As yer mic hums a little lullaby
To a couple of damned angels
In this country of no country
And in this world of no world
As dreams move like snakes thru the eyeholes of our skulls
And then down thru the bones of generations