With an Envelope from my estranged father of forty-four years lying next to plastic bag of cables & powerchords

Today the teeth aren't too bad. I have the teeth of a shark. They aren't connected to the jawbone. They float in the gums and bump against the bone decay. I tried once to bite a girlfriend on the back pocket of her jeans. Holy mama! that was my first experience in the extreme dental hell-pain I would find myself thrust into throughout my adult life.

The genetics were just all wrong. My mom has the same bone loss and gum disease patterns i see in myself. My dad,... pshww! if he had any sort of medical condition he wouldn't tell me about it. He almost missed out on even saying 'Hello.' to me on this planet.

He wanted my mom to have an abortion while she was pregnant with me. That makes you feel sorta special once you know what it means.

I have to wake up early to take my mom to her doctor appointment. Buenos suenos!

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Wet Spring Morning Electric Piano

it was the morning of the spring. As unpredictable as the weather patterns of the Mid-Atlantic could be, during this season, they would be this morning. What kind of southern hound, who enjoys the growl of rubber and asphalt, could stop himself from jumping in his car and taking in the music of wet asphalt and breaking clouds? Not i, gentle sleeper, not i. To let all the joy and misery of reality wheel about you, while the eye speeds past the clumping Wisteria, this must be what Morning from Peer Gynt is all about. The lilt of the flutes while the k9 task force SUV is situated in a hiding spot down the stretch of Old Statesville Road between Oak Drive and Gibbon Road. Of course he would give you a ticket if you accelerate to pass the crusty eyed drivers with no love for the visual paradise being offered. The mornings of spring are quite different from any other season....

+++19+++

Not one damn person stands to offer A ride or a fine 'how do you do?' Out on the stretches Of those long and lonesome desert highways Young and rangy Not yet a tattooed canvas And not quite any longer A multi-colored, spiky haired punk Not that you could tell (from a passing vehicle) Wrapped in an Army Navy store field jacket Black, of course, my leather with hand painted longhorn skull Long since abandoned to storage Or some ex-girlfriend's domestic care Wouldn't do me any good anyway The heat of crossing a desert alone And on foot equivalent, at least to my urban mindframe, to walking across a lake of glass on fire And inside of a microwave oven I'm going to give y'all the benefit of the doubt It was the 80s on the cusp of the 90s And maybe you didn't have your internet set up right, at that time.... So you couldn't see the injustice The complete uncaring, The disregard for your fellow human being Be he (or she) white, black, brown, yell...

Play Your ElectroMuse Clip

Lingering Over the strings The tree streams Butterfly wing beats Glitched out pnmemonics Flood hydraulic streets "Hey, man! You should post a tutorial On how to be a human." Or something justfiably arcane Ah,... The vibes On the opening of 'Three Little Words' Do you remember? The experiment Where we installed non-standardized Object into a standardized slot? The monkies lost their minds The lab rats we're in disarray The code bugs couldn't find a pattern complete and utter chaos! And still the protesters protested The bureaucrats hid beneath mountainous Avalanches of bureaucracy Lawmakers over-played their hand All the oil barons went bankrupt The Magi approach With a perfectly constructed bassline Before Finally Exit-ing From an alternative port of departure

PMPope

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