oily film and fruit flies nasty flies and men in my bathroom laughing with an audience, holy wars holy wars i mean i mean a slight breakdown and a friendly til later brother. it's not the talk, it's never been the talk, don't worry it down don't beat it raw just tend and walk on until i'm lost in the hue of molded skull collections by the swamp.

pink eye
across the bar,
wave hell
watching
'what a brave lad'
a shake of the head
shiver of spines
old green trees in the morning,
 ever autumn bite
salut! salut!