we acquaint drum and keyboard singing remniscent of nursery rhymes.
curls on fire in perpetual motion and tight skinny emo pantsed boys convulse stage into chaos. the moaning meets eyes of bewilderment and bobbing heads. boy jumping into the ceiling as one other fingers guitar so quickly and so precisely. eyes shut in trance as he plays. blacks shirt sticking to thin back, glossy in the red and green, drips of sweat and sparkled guitar.so fucking gorgeous.
flashing letter a's and vanilla lip smackers. clear dark drums fill with orange glow as soft sex sings with pictures of city lights and sun golden silouette. "fuck y'all, i'm from texas."
marry me.
we met van and johnny at magnolia's. the post-club kids have not arrived so the smoking side remains without haze. pancakes, french toast, coffee and quesadillas for six faces shadowed from overhead. the windows dark, grins (sly and real) grow larger as we succumb to the lateness. the thingy in the back of your throat is a uvula, by the way. thank you for the omar hook up, he called me last night. and somewhere someone else sneezes too big or laughs too much. but i am here now...with the boy that smiles, the boy that dances with me, the boy that shakes his skinny emo ass and the boy that tells me to get laid.
rectangular camera box shows only what lives in front. and rectangular print lives what is in front.