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Bloated like a corpse. The leftover loses growing exponentially. Leaderless. Leaderless aimless…off on a wander of the parking lots wonder…Just deserts in a fast food bag.

The 5 O’clock pop-tart rises.

Like a zombie… slow walking…mortified, through modified political paraphrasing of the nattering nabobs of nothing bonding and crowding in to watch and hear the doing nothing political pole dance.

I don’t always, but that hasn’t changed much over the years. Over there is where it all started…Google Earth, mostly harmless. Read that somewhere while hitchhiking.

They say they hunt for pleasure; they say it is fun…the 70 billion…

This breeding is more a continuation of the blame game than anything animated or accented. Ethnic or not discussions of ailment and ointments. The Saint Vitus Dance, virtues of the virulent coughing up a lung.

Do ya see what I’m saying? Remembrances of the ing. The long ago ingesting injecting of trippy blob blog drugs and here the rain falls and makes my paper blotter acidic.

So what’s it done for you lately? The ethics of the punk…40 plus years on if you count the VU feedback or the appropriation of the Dolls, cross-dressers of New York. Doesn’t fit; life like sound is all in the altitude of the attitude.

Can’t see what I’m saying the politics has crept in; now isn’t that crass. Feeding the 5000 scraps of the family fodder. The Anarchist hippie punk bowel movement. Hindsight is bullshit on a trike.

I’ve grown old with my attitude as I wait, still waiting like Vladimir for a Saturday that never arrives; or was it a Wednesday.

Hanging out in fake cafes. Fucked up remnants are all that remains. Bitterness glows like a burning flag.

I do not, or not always.

Over there is where the flying of the punk freak flag started, of henna coloured spiked hair of David. Invented extrovert with nods to Egyptian Anthro – Archeology. So far, so far away now in crap and coffee cafes.

Looks Jazz in a safe sailor moon non-smoking kinda way. Playing Abba; kinda figures kinda sucks…dumb it down to draw a crowd.

And all the worlds a stage revolving around the earth and we are the actors…perform for me.

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