untitle

pete stooped down to whipe a smudge off his dark green pant cuff. when he stood again, he saw off down the distant road the shape of a man trudging towards him. the man kept looking up towards the sun as if trying to get his baring but never seemed to vary his direction. pete thought he looked out of place, but he figured he'd seen all sorts down this way and it didn't matter none anyway.

the sky was perfectly clear that day, as pete was standing there leaned up against the post he thought the sun was down right intoxicating with its rays. he watched the man a spell but he was still at least a mile off so he sat sown on the fresh white ground and looked absently thought his notebook. he'd just been having a thought about something when he'd been interrupted and was trying to regain himself. he read.

presently pete looked up, but the man still seemed a ways off, so pete figured he go on out and meet him on the road. he'd just stood and brushed himself when a small girl happened up the lane.
"scuse me, mister--"
but pete cut her off with a startled "oh dear me," he paused a minute, "eliza."
she looked at him crooked a minute and then said she was looking for a friend of her's and asked had she seen him. pete looked up down the road, the man wasn't a hundred yard off.
"i reckon," pete said looking back ad the girl, "i ain't seen anybody these parts, but two days. but why don't you head up that path to the house and ask about there."

as the girl slipped through the gate and went lauging up the hill the man arrived by pete's side.
"how do?" pete greeted him, giving him a sideways glance, "are you lost?"
pete felt some uneasy about this man so he leaned up on the post to settle himself. the man was puffing a little from all the walking through deep white powder, and took off his cap.
"don't reckon so. i just need to catch my breath, you look civil enough to chat a bit. i'll be on my way again short enough."
the man sat on the ground near pete.
"glorious day ain't it. you just out for a walk?"
"something like that."
"where ya headed?
the man looked up at pete, he was a bit foolhardy looking, young. pete turned to the side, the man's gaze was a bit unsettling.
"where to," the man meditated a minute, " oh maybe down to that river, watch the flows go by."

pete looked down the road towards where it bent to the left.
"what you wanna do that for?"

words and sword and dswor and rdswo and ordsw and words

book
thok
look
thok
book for a thok, look thok, stop by and by thok and think a little trinket of a stump thok.
tick tock
stick stuck in a trick lake thok. and funny, bunny, funny hunny how a look like that thok and spook like this fink and trip to a nonstop drop of drivel mop, by stop by and say its why i watch the clock, by the wall and why i try to say goodbye and say goodbye to this missed thought.

thok.

in process

old wine. why are you laughing at the dead man with the pearls in his eyes?
Truth who are you, the boondock saint of my ear-mind, attacking with these soulful words?
. and lies. me? cuz of lies balanaced on a swivel stool and vinyl plush seat told to the false face of the dog trucks streaming down the anti-superhighway? don't you see this philomel? when did i board this thought and loose my faith? was it while i sang? tu ra lu ra tu ra lu ra still, are you laughing at your own ignorance?

if i spent the last 15 years on honour rolls, and the next 13 on death row, would that be a life well spent? and what if i jump? what if i bump my head on the passing light of a day wasted tasting sugar water and hydrochloric acid? why do you pretend to care and hold my hair? and drink fresh wine? and water the concrete garden outside the unicorn and tango upstairs to see a shadow pass across the room?

if you buy me a drink, perhaps i'll talk in lies and you can ask why i never drink old wine.

boondoch

a step to a theme immoral, is he the one or thee which chooses. can i choose to step, step left. or right a wrong.

lemme elab: theres a problem, living in too many lies makes it impossible to have family. because i can't lie to them. this is an immoral dilemma. or i dunno. i dunno. torn torn by bordom i think. i think.

think in thoks of what and which ways i step to look at the truth of old wine. old wine takes time. and lies come quick. they come with lightning speed and flow with shifts of ocean need to respond to imput of liars to me. the truth takes time. and hurts and no one drinks old wine. no one drinks it so why should i make it. why not lie.

old wine.