04-23-2013, 04:58 PM
Having a Jameson + Coke with You (Remix and Edit by C Y R E N)
is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne
or being sick to my stomach, vomiting on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona
partly because in your orange shirt, through my 'drunk goggles', you look like a better happier St. Sebastian
partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt, partly because I just gorged like 10 of these mofos and I can't see straight...
partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches, 'cuz man they fuck with me when I'm drunkenly wandering around in them.
partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary, hell - even stationary! I once humped a tree in my inebriated delirium....
it is hard to believe when I’m with you that there can be anything as still
as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it, 'cuz these fucking Angels and Gargoyles are moving on me man, it's fucking with me bad...
in the warm New York 4 o’clock light we are drifting back and forth, right across a free-way as we down a colt .45
between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles, 'cuz these beer-goggles are getting pretty fucking foggy...
and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint, or puke, or putrid signs of my own intestine filled to the brim with Magic Hat
you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them,
'cuz man, in the morning, when I wake up with this hooker, I'ma be questioning
why? why? why?
I look
at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world, unless it's a portrait of a Budweiser Clydesdale in all it's sexy, equine glory.
except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frick,(in) guidebook of, 'How to drink and invoke as many culturally diverse environments as possible'
which thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together the first time, whilst I obviously stumble and sway
and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less, can't really tell, it's the 'grain and glory way', takes care of Futurism
just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or
anything like that at all, 'cuz I'll strip butt-ass naked as I loiter in the stairwell
at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me
but I've drowned each appreciative cell in my brain in a bath of whiskey
and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them
when they haven't tasted heaven's piss?
when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank
along with my heart as the barrels go dry
or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn’t pick the rider as carefully
as the horse(cock) he wanted to bludgeon the midget with, drunkenly.
it seems they were all cheated of some marvelous experience
a transcendantal spell fueld by rye and Irish pride
which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it,
'cuz I'm really.drunking.funk.[/align]
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