Linger

The setting sun pushed away the gray clouds and let in a few lasting minutes of sunlight before welcoming the purple darkness.

A mild night of scattered clouds let loose the bright stars floating in a midnight blue murk.
A night the wind could claim for it's own.

An instabilty we're becoming so used to now.

No snow

No cold

No knowing what tomorrow will bring.

Fall, Spring and Winter all seem to be jockeying for the same seat in a game of musical chairs.
The music has stopped but neither of them wants to make the first move.

The onlookers can't bare to watch and can't find the exit.

Will the grass be green tomorrow or lay dying under a foot of snow?
Will my body catch up to the ever changing climates and confused seasons?

It's so hard to feel the comfort of a season nearing it's end when you're not even sure if it's actually begun.

The uncomfortable darkness outside breeds bad feelings and makes suspicious the buzzing tubes illuminating the indoors.
All these shadows seem fabricated.

The windows like mirrors reflect back the animals trapt inside.

Is that me in the wall?

Does anyone else see this?

We're just frowns passing by breathing the day away.
Who's a friend when chit chat is all you hear and outside confusion lingers like poison gas.

Purgatory

The sun singed the ambiguous sky as another day fizzled away wasted.
The lack of cold burns more than the actual frost not covering the landscape.
Though long dead some leaves cling to the branches haunting the wind as it pushes through them and hisses between the confused bare trees.
What should be a Winter silence is actually a cacophony of left behind birds and leaves blowing in the wind and rustling about on the uncovered ground still being pounded by the bustle of people wandering around ignorant to the lack of a season or the terrible cold yet to come.
The endless shadows pour on me from all directions leaving my mind in an abyss.
I look to the deep blue sky for absolution but find only the blinding rays waiting for me.
How long do we have to wait before the brittle cold finds us?
How long before Spring warms the ground again and allows us outside?
With no transition in sight it's impossible to foresee the end of season that has yet to begin.

Tom Waits Music Hour

A one hour radio show featuring Tom Waits.

Track List:

Misery is the river of the world-Blood Money
Starving in the belly of the whale- Blood money
Jesus gonna be here- Bone Machine
I don't wanna grow up- Bone Machine
Old Shoes- Closing Time
Lucinda/Ain't going down- Glitter and Doom Live
Chocolate Jesus- Mule Variations
Intro to eggs and sausage- Nighthawks at the Diner
Eggs and sausage- Nighthawks at te Diner
Tom Traubert's Blues- Small Change
Step Right up- Small Change
The Earth Died Screaming- Bone Machine

A full Hour of Tom Waits....Enjoy!

Are you called sundries?

Are you too small to consider?
Are you staring at me when I pee?
What do you do when i'm not in here?
Are you afraid when I turn out the light?
I hope not.
Thank you for cleaning my skin.
Thank you for keeping this room smelling fresh.
If I was a food, you would be the condiments.
I will be sure to use you sparingly, and keep out of direct sunlight and away from flame even though you're not flamable.
See you in the morning, and probably tomorrow night before and after dinner.
Goodnight soap.
Goodnight candle.
Goodnight mouthwash with whitening power.
Goodnight skintimate kiwi strawberry shaving cream.
Goodnight febreeze apple spice and delight air freshener.

Bloodshot eyes.

A few days away from the office breeze by like they never even happened.
A blur would have been too much to ask for.

On this, my final night before the big Monday morning drive down those familiar roads all the way to my own personal tomb it seems I have not drank enough despite my double vision.

I should be heading towards a soft place to rest my head, I shouldn't be lighting another cigarette, I shouldn't be wide awake.

I tried to drink as many beers in as little time as possible, I tried to reboot the system.

This doesn't seem to solve the problem anymore.

I'm either back where I started, only dizzier or I'm sick.

No solution.

No rest.

I'll find something to crunch on. I'll draw my blood away from my head without hurting myself.

If this plan turns out a failure, it's off to the medicine cabinet for little plan b's.

Yeah, how I wish. Just a closet full of Tums and toothpaste.

Why is it that the things I hate are the things I become as soon as it's a little easier.

It's funny how easily the little voice I refuse to hear get's drowned out by the dozens of mouthy bad ideas I just can't say no to.

"Will I go outside to suck the fire?" Why yes, I'd love another.

I'll just ignore that faint weeze.

I'll pretend I'm exempt from the human condition and hit the pillow clear headed.

At last a silent moment, at last the quiet colors of a dream.

Floating breath.

Autumn officially ends with the cold wind now chilling the window glass.
I breath out smoke but still I see my breath pass the sensor light and fade away into darkness.
I always wonder if it's warmth carries it higher than the treetops or if it touches the clouds.
Does it circle the earth forever or dissipate and die of the cold?
As midnight crawls into dawn not a lit window can be seen in the surrounding houses.
Silence is Winter's proclamation.
Cold is it's controlling hand.
Darkness is it's atom bomb.
Soon the last leaf will lose it's grip and leave the brittle branch from which it came.
Cracked and dry this shall be it's final resting place.
Til' nothing but dust remains.

Big Bucket of Chicken Redux part II

Come with me

And you'll be

In a world of

Pure imagination

Take a look

And you'll see

Into your imagination

~W. Wonka

The Big Bucket of Chicken Redux Part 2

See part 1 below.

Enjoy!