Li-Kiada

If I ever get the time And the money and the drive I think I have a plan. If and When I can. There is a place where the weird and wonderful play. Where a man rolls around with a funky bass guitar   swirled to psychedelic perfection And dancers break everything but their bodies A boardwalk long and glorious and hot Cooled by the smoke of hookahs pipes and an ocean breeze. Artists craftsmen musicians camp Selling their wears for cents Independent filmmakers (so close to the land of glitz and glamour) welcome you to their shot. Your inclusion makes it Real. Your hair is stuck by salt, it stands out all over. But s

The drought has driven us all mad                                      he beats down on the back of our necks as he forms                    waterfalls                                        on                                                      our                                                                    backs. I suppose even he grows tired of his own presence. Yet he continues to shine. Even his sister seems in the same Fix. (It's not uncommon to wear shoes late into the night to avoid the stubborn burn of asphalt and melting tar.) The drought has driven us all mad. You know you are the same as me. You know t

She was a blonde. I think. See, it was so long ago, and her hair was covered. As a married woman's always was. And I think I remember, her hair was blonde. It stuck out from her  sheitel She had green eyes. I think. See, it was so long ago, All I can see are the glasses. The floor was closer, the doors were bigger. I think I remember this. My own hair had been cut again, pudgy hands had done little more than entangle Bubble Yum in the curls And Peanut butter had just induced A violent slobber attack from Mucky. (I had been told he owes his name to me. Originally he had been Lucky Jumped on the table and Became Shmuc

I don't know if you remember me.  We met at a carnival. You sauntered up to me, a funny smile and hair a mess from your last ride. "Need some help?" Ashamed as I was, I refused. I don't know if you remember, but when I got up, the mud made such a loud 'squish' that you laughed. It sounded like a fart, and those are always funny. "What's your name Hun?" You asked, flashing me a smile with pearly white teeth. I glared at you, but you didn't see. The taste of fairgrounds was in my mouth, and I'm sure it showed. As grits in my teeth. I laughed a little. Did you hear it shake? "Figure it out." I told you, wiping the dirt off my overall

Some like to think that creating the universe was easy. That He woke up one morning and after combing his great godly hair and inventing water to splash onto his godly face, he grabbed a cup of coffee and thought about a universe. So it appeared. First he thought it needed some light, so it appeared. Then, he thought, this water invention isn't too bad, so he put it on a little corner of the cosmic plate. Then he stuck it in the microwave and set it for a few minutes before heading off to work. One could only wish it had been that easy. God picked up his coffee from the counter, and started telling me the story: "I was planting a tree in

He wasn't sad anymore. Sadness was easy, depression was a gift. No, Mark Cohen was not sad. He was angry. He was hurt, and for once is his horribly numb life it registered. Mark threw another bottle. What was he doing with his life? "This is Mark reporting on Vampire Welfare queens who are compulsive bowlers." Bullshit. He didn't even have a reason to do it anymore. Rent was paid in full. And even if it wasn't the place was too big. He could move into one of the smaller apartments. And hide. Mark had always been good at hiding. But that's what Roger said wasn't it? That he was hiding behind his camera. No, Mark refused to be

You know those pencils? The ones with a bunch of colors at the tip and when you write it keeps changing? That's sort of what my life feels like right now. Every color should stand for something, but rarely does it stand alone. Red; love. That should make sense right? Or maybe anger? Perhaps those two go hand in hand. Odd thought. It's blue now. I remember that blue means purity. Like water, or the sky right? Virgin Mary and all that. It doesn't feel very pure. It feels lonely, isolated. Maybe that is what purity is. Oh, I forgot what yellow meant. Color theory was always lost on me. It looks sickly, but it also reminds me of summer time.