A brief song idea.

Am I on your mind?
Would it be too unkind to ask this question of you?
And am I in your face?
Would it be out of place for me to put to test the best of what you've said?

Fogs swirl ambient
the lust of sedimentary
symmetry in layers
Euclidian nonsense
can't account for your shape
across the void
a choice;
I no longer hear your voice
louder than my own

And am I on your mind?
Would it be too unkind to ask this question of you?
And am I on your face?
Would it be out of place to make a graceful gesture?

Perks of understanding
a cemetery map
the male heart is weak
stale when complete
soft imagined skin
the loss inside the win
a choice;
I no longer hear your voice
in scarcely audible physique

Patrick Joseph Grant is in lava.
WCWs.
William Carlos Williams.
World Championship Wrestling.
Why Create Woefulness?

Massive shadows sink in my cells
and I wonder why I've never written a slow jam for you to dance to.

In fact, I've only ever written one real love song. Blah. Fuck meanderings. Back to Karamazov.

ooh, what can I do.

I imagine the glass enclosure,
screaming larvae, looking in
on our lovemaking.
You take my fluids hungrily;
I would not kill because I can,
but because I hate,
because our nights
blend so seamlessly together,
fur pressed and elegant,
a paint set unopened,
a canvas unstretched.

new incredibly joyful pop song.

gonna have a shower and shave my head

it's funny how things turn out

gonna have a shower and shave my head

it's funny how things turn out.

1MS (to put my face on your face)

inside inside inside inside
mascara flowing down pine trees
shedding needle and dimes
nickels and crimes at the same time
osmium nighttime
snow lights drenched black
captured and entangled
by the insurmountable and vague
ambivalence of the white noise.

in the distance there is a siren,
syrup pulling through the eardrum
heated with bleach and melancholy.

Simone Simone Simone Simone
heavy canvas bags of wine
crass and undelivered graciousness
fading and fast and fast and fading
slowly creeping
downwards and upwards
over your aged face.

With a haircut
similar to your son's;
"I don't know you're a lesbian."

Presently, had you been there,
seen me dressed
the way I
was.
You might have let me.

Nietzsche is overtaking me. As is Dostoevsky. And they're working together! Hooray for paper proposals.

I've been having dreams about people I literally haven't seen in person in years. Does this mean that I miss you? What are you, other than close to me alphabetically? Coding.

I got a noise complaint on Friday for listening to Leonard Cohen and Jim O'Rourke (Not together. Songs from a Room and The Visitor, respectively. Although if there was a Leonard Cohen record produced by Jim O'Rourke, I think the world would collapse in on itself.) My response is Daydream Nation. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. Does that sound simple enough?

The Grim Preachers "Tales from Hellcat Diner" CD Release party is on Saturday night and I am very very stoked. It will be a lot of fun and a good last hurrah for this line-up of the band. Inevitably some of us are too busy/not as committed anymore, so there's going to be a short hiatus. It will be refreshing. Thus, my focus will shift exclusively to the Body Electric, at least for a few months. =)

Interesting sample-styled vocal breaks and voice changing are making their way in the songwriting process for BE. I've been in a slight lyrical slump lately. Or perhaps it's a vocal melody slump. I like the lyrics I've been singing. They're mostly about subway chimes and lavender SGs.

Anyways, homework.

Woop Woop.