i'm coming.. my motorollatthTTTTtTtTt4&Gth

the shift key is busted on this relic. not quite a remington quiet-riter ten, but at this size, who can complain? if i hade this device sixteen years ago.sorry. i am sadast. this device works not well here. i need to trim my nails. i need to take a shower. curse my metal body.

Riding on the Metro

You are everything you ever were. In a good way. Everytime you made a total stranger laugh for minutes on end is exactly how funny you are right now. Were your intentions always good and pure? Our level of self-consciousness varies from freedom to fear. With video recording, we can relive certain moments, yet feel differently about them now than we did then. Is hindsight 20/20? Is the photograph truth? If I was happy as hell, and my audience was happy as hell, why do I feel so bad about it now? Probably because I feel bad about everything now. It is the nature of the beast. I know the problems in my head are chemical, but the chemicals they are giving me are not doing the trick. I need efficacious medicine. She works so well.

Cold Low Mongrel Wolfmothers-to-bee

help my poetry/pottery
i need DANIELA!
From Pottsville Penn!
My POT is WACK!
Come to my garage sale.


...i need to buy a garage.

I need... U2

Super Size (inter)Media

kavita
buddahali
Haba Nero
No Habla
Por las amigitas y la Amistad!

my tombstone:

T. Alan DeMattio
BORN.
LIVED.
DIED.
"Drink to mE"

Revenge of the Gunslingers

Barack Obama was assasinated by a coward's bullet on his promotional trip thru the Middle-East... or was that the Midwest? Mid-World?? Middle Earth? You Na'vi slut! Give me head or I remove your USB port! Let my dongle dangle. Parse my BASIC. This piece of shit made the Cannonball Run in 3 parsecs. We took the scenic route. Drive up then drive back down again. Oh yeah! Would you do it? Would you be my best friend?

Kill the King

The evil wizard has delayed my call.
I tried to make it thru, but was attacked.
The seven dragons flying o'er his wall
descended 'pon my frozen form, then snacked.
I drew my sword and tok the first three down.
Two more I caught with my returning swing.
I sliced the final two heads to the ground
and sprinted toward the tower to kill the king.
He's held you in his clutches far too long.
I'll taste his blood before the rising sun.
I'll hold my trumpet high and play your song.
The sleeping village then will know I've won.
The melody will raise the sun to set
and all the land will know the name Lisette.

..and then came the last daze of May

This Irises Shine, Blind Tides:
What a presumptuous fool I was to rail against those previous sunrises. Me and my petty prizes. What the hell did I know at all before last night? These are words picked out of the blown apart remnants of a slipping mind. Risen and reverberated, he sits now atop the very clouds that rain upon so many parades. Parades were never meant to be watched. That's the best time to go on all the rides. I laugh at the sleeping city sidewalks this sunday morning, and I ain't never coming down from this cloud. It's taken me all this time to find out something or another. Is any of this real? Was any of it ever real? Am I lying doped up in some hospital bed? Am I dreaming every second of this? If so, I'd better make the most of it before they cut off my intravenous love serum. In my experience, there's no such thing as luck, but I'm riding this gift horse into the sunset. Ciao!

Twenty-Nine While Nine:
To the list of things I've broken, let me add the silence. I can no more hold this tongue or stay these fingers than they can stay with and hold you. Secret agents of fortune, in covert overnight operations, drink deep of shaken stirred synaptic fluids. Oddly awed, the star-shocked shell stays still in soggy slumbered sheets. My lightning chopsticks no longer perform their magic act of snatching perfect phrases out of the air. Without a well-lubricated ear to whisper these words within, are they still sweet, or are they merely nothings? Let my body recover from the trauma of interplanetary travel. Lovely little nurse, you shared water with me before you knew what hit you. How hard have you been sucked into this void? Can you reach my hand? Can you pull me free?

Electric Chemistry

The Renaissance Man ducks and runs for cover as his "Tesla" coil spins and sputters out of control. Thru the shimmering fissure between the third and fourth casually accepted dimensions comes a backbeat narrow and hard to master. Hold me tight; I speed at night. It is the force that binds the galaxies to get her. The conductor whips his apean antennae about painting the space of the cathedral with fractally divisible vibrations. The cello girls saw frantically at the pulsing wires, dazed, knighted. Confusion form. The girl's got rhythm. The bitch's got the blues. All feeds streaming; live now!