I wear a suit without a shirt.
save my name for a different day.
keep bothering love.
and bitch up a storm.
back at the Kettle of Fish.
I sing MacDougal Street.
before England and Florida.
for fuck's sake.
On the night of May 2nd.
after encountering wind.
I opened for two bands.
a scene-style jam session.
at last...the beginning.
of this poem. this life.
we learn that emptiness is full human.
so dancing art is a must.
to peel away the days.
get the good going.
cover the insects eating us.
and feel anything worth writing.