Drip drip. Years ago my father asked if I’d written any songs. I’ve yet to produce 23:18, June 18, 2016 (UTC)

sometimes when its quiet and dark and feeling lonely i spread my toes exhale and close eyes into further darkness to light up memories of rain

feeling all wound up and ready to pop got twenty two dimes not ready to stop dont tell me ive found nothing if youre down on a slump ive got five times when something meant something for softer days when times were hard life felt new ready to be worn out spread to cure felt on top but years go by living it up in comfort and style feeling some unspoken emptiness thatd wreck this all things be told

in the rain i remember being wet looking along the cloudy horizon sounds are softer in the rain they dont make me wince a dog barks in the rain and i laugh i once had an umbrella just a wire frame it needed some flesh to cover me i first smelt hair under an umbrella in the rain things can be smelt in the rain had been drying off in chapters pointing out gibsons spook country dialing on the payphone they offer indoors

sometimes when im asleep at night i hear sounds feeling forced to dig through lost and founds i dont like being downtown too many unrelated memories not enough memories to blend together just a few distinct colors splashed on a page these pages unindexed without supporting reference when im gone theyll finally be released into the nether these are not the things thatll be told by sages bound to entropy reverie and indifference

drab on the floor mixing soda and pop aint got no time for your window shop dont pass me closely enough to bump some slime bump in the night making fright over nothing for ill waywards only tongue left to chew chewing on the snout these feedings to endure please stop but it never stops all the mort for miles letting loose into this void all filled with all things been told

ive nightmares of being drunk