dont call it a sellout. ive sold out for years. pushing this skateboard of secret treats headed for that tightrope across heck. she had green eyes that turned gray real slowly as the twinklestars zipped through the moonlight in the august folder of your heart.
she makes me feel my age not my shoe size. hellifi know how she does it. and what if it aint even her. still the sidewalk clacks like traintracks tonight as i skate down hollywood like a black speck in your rearview and thats how i wanna stay yo. im just going home straight up hoodie from a culdesac kittycornered to yesterday.
66. Gorilla Mask
go ‘topes she says and kisses me tentatively. bitch could make a rhyme outta everything. she touched me and my eyes would get all swirly. shed say the dirtiest things as hendrix played slow jams ive never heard and the dj would say uh.
whose living life like jimi the cymbal crashing cokehead monkey said, and if youre not living your rockstar destiny mr snoop dogg bloggyhead then who is.
cuz someone is
it aint a sellout if its for love she said
or lust yelled her sister from the next room
we were watching the albequerque isotopes who had made it to the playoffs, a minor league baseball team named after a cartoon minor league baseball team. life imitating bart. she said how do you like new mexico tony. he said makes me miss old mexico.
and these people interview me and they never go for it forrest. today they should have said, how do you think youre representing? and i’d say shit. far as i can tell im the only one representing. and not even well. but where im from you stay in your little treehouse and you dont wander. maybe you’ll head off to florida in the spring. but when you come back you say how great it is and you never go there again ever again ever and you certainly dont get any off two girls in the rain and none of you are on acid.
anymore.
and she keeps stirring the cookies singing sugar. oh, honey honey.
you are my everything.
and i want you.
her name was rosalita, she had a warm pool. way too tight with her kung fu grip and youd have to say im a sensitive poet remember this sword isnt mightier than your sin but it wasnt that it was you th. and who does nt wan t that.