Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
It’s all sorts of hot, here.
The insides of my spectacles are fogging up and
I wanna write curse words on the glass.
My fingers won’t fit behind the frames.
I would have wrote F U in one lens
And C then K in the other one.
The sun is making my sweat sticky.
Not in a good sticky way.
In the “this dust is gonna cling to you all day”
sticky kind of way.
And I sorta see some black smudges at the edge of the field.
I'll bet they're buzzards.
Those things would eat me if it got the chance.
Well, they’d eat me if I was lying there dead.
Or dying and feeble.
It’s too humid to be lying dead in a cornfield
Getting all eaten by vultures.
Too humid for me anyways,
The deer they’re eating doesn’t seem to mind.
I think it’s too dead to worry about the situation.
And I’m too sweaty to worry about the situation.