jpaulgorman

.go. and the heart glitters. .stop. and the glow fades. .climb. and the rocks fall. .camp. and the buzzards gather. .share. and the harvest returns. .store. and the rot comes. .build. and great cities rise. .destroy. and great cities rise anyway. .fight. and the innocent are lost. .love. and the greatest is love. .scribe. and the mapping of the mind. .erase. and the digital wasteland.

...these waters are shallow.  hyped up on uppers and coffee beans.  rocking back and forth, knees dancing wildly.  next, next, next.  out with you.  in with the new.  like a dusty rug.  first to the garage, then to the yard sale, then to the goodwill store.  unless it needs to go to the landfill, the best and sanest method of waste control.  honey earth, completely efficient and sufficient.  she pays us no mind.  modern evolution and the avoidance of humanity.  the vast deep sea waters are vastly undiscovered except by radar, sonar, and submarine cars.  the floating debris and bottle caps.  sunken treasures and sunken junk.  the air has been conquered already, though it takes it's body count.  never want to have to count on a parachute.  don't want to have to count on tony romo either.  a proven fine fellow, a proven skilled quarterback, a proven leader.  but also proven at other things....

.my mental state will not tolerate sticking around. .areas of emotion are clouded and humid. .beads of sweat gather on the inside of my skull. .blackouts on the nerve line.

.buttons and wires going everywhere. .machines made of machines. .compact in its outer shell. .made of poly thermal plastic. .over in the Siberian tundra lands. .rusted factories and people with huge teeth. .silicon micro chips and dips. .party is on in the lobby. .glowing girls smelling of lotion. .oily massage and light jazz. .silent horns and clean lead. .epic Italian screenplay. .mobsters and south philly promises. .letters to the famous and noteworthy. .signed with ferrari pens. .sealed with clay court wars. .the trees are naked and lit. .north end clearing and ridge road. .prune out the dead limbs. .make it work for blooms. .jalapeño peppers on the side please. .clean up the sides with a lime.

.started with a huge gasp of air. .made their way to the cannonballs. .kept blasting the opposite banks. .all through the afternoon and night. .the white flags came out eventually. .the texicans rise again.  .hysterical commitment cannot be overcome. .a burden beyond belief. .carried it up the road. .on the outskirts of town. .even had help along the way. .it could not be done alone. .agony and moments of boredom. .branded with scars of war. .brought to the alter with shame. .complete mysteries never to be explained. .something about that wine. .transferred by digestive means. .blame it on rio. .beautiful beautiful things. .its all been done before. .for the same exact reasons. .the devil's trade.     

     The map is covered in green.  It's always the same in the city.  Perhaps we should all fall down and have a fit.  It is not just!  Cars and trucks and cars and trucks.  Whooshing by.  Spinning and spinning.  Here, we are royalty.  Kings and queens and aces and jacks.  But I go for the tens.  Among the commoners by design and choice.  The pressures of the circumstance and pomp avoided.  On to other matters.  To write and consider.  In that order.  Work the edges.  The day's fury, today's distraction, yesterday's dried tears.

.like a drop to the sea. .like a molecule of air. .our thoughts too. .not all can be captured. .or should be. .some better left hidden. .or forgotten. .memories are limited for a reason. .like a crick in the neck. .like a stone in a shoe. .tugs and tugs. .demanding attention and causing grief. .the immediacy. .it must be, must be, done. .resisting is impossible. .unless by design. .like the belt of orion. .like the west texas lands. .assurance in staticness. .although changing still. .the trick of time continues. .everything changes. .evolution is for the alive. .decay is for the dead. 

.telecaster, stratocaster, resonator slide.decide on all 3. .prince swept up his floor.back in the day. .picking the melodies out.finding the good lines. .there are no names to describe.where the fishermen eat. .avatar possibilities.all the locals know. .room echoed and talked.all the skins were amplified. .the producer rolled tape quick.fix it all later. .in came the sound scientist.broke those vocals down. .the guitars, the guitars, all the guitars.american made. .caught that bostonville sound.wrapped it up in one day. .far away eyes and western noise.the choir comes in.

.the audience is tired and panting. .the ludicrats are whining. .their club is behind the times. .colonial times were for the brave. .demanding the law. .electric blue and flashing. .announcing the new age. .venus was shining like a spotlight. .gonna go march. .you look up with a confused face. .said you got a good deal. .peace ain't gonna come. .forgot to let the dog out. .where the lily pads swim. .all the searching for the gold. .the fast and loose ain't around anymore. .known a few girls. .they are all done now .each one it's own.

connections of wires tangles and instructions pictures scattered everywhere indications of liars blames and interruptions slouching in chairs nations of buyers awards and inductions completely beyond repair collections of deniers tickets and infractions forgiveness seems rare gcgcgcd7