jpaulgorman

.all at a moderate pace. .thirsty boat people with squinting eyes. .families all around, camped for days. .the island is back. .dodge the tops of cottonwood trees. .the cliff houses are grand and full of activity. .docks are floating everywhere. .the water always arrives, eventually. .dust will turn to mud. .an oasis known as crow springs. .humans have gathered there for millennia. .keep out of the dugout. .it is merely a replica of the original. .two hundred yards south from here. .only ruins now. .glide across the glassy water. .on a quiet friday afternoon. .wouldn't be doing this at home. .bodies are older and tireder. .spirits are strong. .politicians are not trusted. .even preparations won't matter. .returning to before is impossible. .forward is the only way.

cg fc .outside of Haskell, near the Knox county line. .tank was getting empty, had a worried mind. .neon sign in the distance, my faith was restored. .thank you lord Jesus, for that liquor store. .pump was old and rusty, all the levers were shot. .had to pay up inside before you could pump a drop. .got some jerky and some seeds, helps me drive through the night. .as I walked out the door, I saw a beautiful sight. f c g fgc liquor store Jesus. taped on the door. liquor store Jesus. saved me once more. .getting my gas after I paid, a woman stood near the other pump. .had long tan legs, and curves, and a perfect, heart shaped rump. .made contact with her baby blues, blue as the ocean waves. .oh Jesus help me once again, you know exactly what I crave. .forgot to get a lighter forgot the case of Mexican beer.. .locked up my el camino, get it while I'm here. .in line behind a man with his nightly u light. .been plowing earth all day long, drinks with Jesus...

in all seriousness, a new perspective. these shadows in the air. uninvolved with possible outcomes. obsessed with the routine. obsessed with the truth. obsessed with light. a moment of nothing at all. the rarest state of being. we are not thought about by others. only fleeting remembrances. fondness or disgust. spend all you got. then line up at the nearest national bank. money is madness. these stories are all over. a means to this life's end. legacy folks and names of buildings. the lake is full is the word. predicted calmly and quietly all along. midnight in west texas.

..all kindsa things found on the shelves.. ..twenty dollars and a transfixed mind.. ..bland comments and quotes of others.. ..all over this land crazy folks are breaking out.. ..helping others with accusations and calls.. ..the heat was baking the grounds and lawns.. ..dull blades and late afternoon petrol emergencies.. ..depleted and worn from pouring sweat and blood.. ..the cake place with offers of decorations.. ..glorified Hollywood bakers with a good thing going.. ..west nile festering in the lower wet lands.. ..chemicals in the air and spraying mists of poison.. ..the dizzies and the woozy equilibriums of haze.. ..perfect landing from the old jumping bridge.. ..harp player thinking the thrills are too short.. ..muscle stretching throughout the evening.. ..fear the achillies tendon and don't break the back..

Turbulence.Raw Skeleton Tracks.7.12.15.leprechaun studios.weston,tx. from paul gorman on Vimeo .

those days are remembered well. praying the rain would stop. school was out of the question. paper plate super server award. brown collegiate brick walls. then the magic rug was pulled out. inside the loop with wild characters. dust storm finals and windburned lips. continued throughout time in the west. the good life of club sandwiches and lights. backboard on the back court, no one around. any degree was fine, with the pool cool down. the days of lions and letters. temper tantrums and destroyed equipment. triumphant and humbled every week. the latest and the greatest things of now. whatever it took to play to midnight. junebugs and mosquitos continue the fight. the ladies arrived with eyes and legs. respectable newspaper clippings and notes. glory limited by limitations and priorities. decorated to a reasonable degree. understood a future on the links. intermittent matches with aging bores. the babies and the jobs and the dead flowers. no time for ra...

           Considering the KOtC5 draw, I immediately plotted my path to royalty.  The Earl, the common royal, seemed my only potential place.  Only 2 years ago, during the first KOtC, I was firmly in the thick of things for the Prince title.  Then the famous Leo Escario, the marathon runner, proud son of The Philippines, and owner of a permanent smile, outlasted me for the first KOtC Prince title in what I thought was going to be my last mahut on earth.  It was hot.  Death was at my doorstep.  My family was watching and the air was dizzy.  Heat exhaustion, hell, heat stroke, seemed inevitable.  Really, it would’ve been a good way to go, but our good God kept me around.  That was my chance and Leo slammed the gate, pulled up the bridge from the mote, and lifted the Prince prize.  Since then, its’ been a series of defeats, disappointments, a Frank Friday destruction of the KOtC establishment, and a back spa...

(chorus) ae d7aea x2 chillin on my shoe, got nothing better to do. all afternoon, just chillin on my shoe. all the grass is fast and blue, string picking gals and dudes. Rocky Mountain views, just chilling on my shoe. (verse1) song bout looking up to the stars, after a night of hopping through the bars. with a girl I just happened to meet, smiled at me when I blessed her sneeze. (verse2) song bout... (verse3) song bout... (verse4) song bout... *collaboration with hunter hezmall.

...bud smith is the only person I want painting my house...from bayou la batre, where all the gulf fish gets processed...oysters, piles and piles of shells dumped back to build the reef...shrimp, iron boats out for weeks and months...those louisiana boys got it easy...texas and its massive coastline...after katrina, boats were littered everywhere...the water was up to the transformers...even dominic was devastated, and he's one of the big dogs...tugboats are made here too...pulling flat barges on the mississippi...his old woman's boyfriend put a bullet in his spine...he knew of the end...older brother peanut was a rowdy dude...fell over one day when his ticker stopped...younger brother held up a 7-11 with a BB gun...picked up on a warrant a few months later...probably in jail to this day, bud didn't remember....the good times in mobile...zz top and wine and weed...real name was george...but, the cigarettes do the real killing...old smokers always warn the young...now he li...