Moonburns

The sun burns like a copper fire in the late evening sky.
Dryness, asphault and children play in the streets.
The uncontrolled and ancient coil inside my chest
Unravels; lost for a night
In passionate chaos.

Licorice & Latex

Multiple Personalities

Would You Kill To Kiss The Pain Away (The Iron Drum)

suitcase in my hand
waiting for autumn
the humdrum of the human wire
trying to find some heart...

I'd like to find a way
the get inside the crackle
of the stereo and find
a note inside sweet jane...

An Artist, always dreaming
looking at the moon
and screaming or singing
questioning the sky...

Is there a place for the willful,
the forgetten sailors and lovers,
foregone erotic attractions,
the remains of a lost age?

Nostalgic Futurists Ride Again!!