'36 hudson in the garage, all sorts of junk in the unattached spare room, dishes in the kitchen sink, new straw for the old broom, friends who dont have
when we hid out behind the risers at he high school, working bitter calculations with a slide rule. the grim particulars of poisoning the swimming pool
alright I'm on johnson avenue in san luis obispo and I'm five years old or six maybe. and indications there's something wrong with our new house trip
we stank of hair dye and ammonia. we sealed ourselves away from view. you were looking at the void and sat unblinking. the best that I could do was to
the reception's gotten fuzzy. the delicate balance has shifted. put on your gloves and your black pumps. let's pretend the fog has lifted. now you see
you are sleeping off your demons when I come home. spittle bubbling on your lips, fine white foam I am young and I am good. it's a hot southern california
we all woke up that morning, claw marks on our little faces. the dull thud from the treetops the echo in the hollow places rose up high and lonely wringing
feed the kittens in the kitchen. set food out for the strays. try hard to do your best. the magpie will have his way. fill your mouth with berries by
the king of the jungle was asleep in his car. when your chances fall in your lap like that, you gotta recognize them for what they really are. nobody
got up before dawn went down to the racetrack. riding with the windows down shortly after your first heart attack. you parked behind the paddock, cracking
king saul fell on his sword when it all went wrong, and joseph's brothers sold him down the river for a song, and sonny liston rubbed some tiger balm
on the day that dennis brown's lung collapsed, spring rain was misting down on kingston. and down at the harbor, local cops were intercepting an inbound
hey, mr. hughes and mr. vanderslice, uh this is a new song i'm really excited aboo, about, and uh and so since i wrote it on my old cort guitar instead
I broke free on a saturday morning. I put the pedal to the floor. headed north on mills avenue, and listened to the engine roar. my broken house behind
there's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet no matter where you live. there'll always be a few things, maybe several things that you're going
I checked into a bargain priced room on la cienaga, gazed out through the curtains of the parking lot. walked down to the corner store just before nightfall