Spotify

Now streaming:

https://open.spotify.com/artist/4ZT9TQV3ReO7WxL3ZkQVri

The Kinks

The Kinks

the middle school history teacher 

feels like she’s losing her mind 

covering the state test in roomsfull

of kids who can’t see why 

we have to speak english

the president’s insane 

what’s the point of all these

meaningless names and dates

the middle school history teacher’s 

got two of her own two hours away

in the middle class suburb inherited

from the divorce 

her kids stop to wonder 

why she cries in the car 

insisting on piano lessons

and no phones after hours

the middle school history teacher 

told me I could have her job 

she’s thinking about Florida 

somewhere somehow 

and I’m the substitute 

with my fourth grade work 

a book of origami 

and voices from cartoons 

Recent Hits

Recent Hits

Loneliness Business

loneliness business 

in the loneliness business 

exporting world-wide 

twenty-four/seven 

internet has been a boon

we ship 

all over the world 

figure if you’ve been 

in front of a tv 

the rest is easy 

unlocking a potential 

casting that gaze 

over the horizon 

creating a longing 

dissatisfaction 

with everything you’ve known

and the rest 

well

is out of your hands 

Weird

Weird

sometimes we’re just

canceling each other out

gonna get weirder

that’ll be better

gonna need your sleep

dreams will interfere

gonna get weirder

wear your pink sweater

gonna feel colder

living outside

of these fantasies

of yours

Memories are New

I look for my father in the eyes of men 

sometimes I see him everywhere

sometimes he’s hidden

behind decisions 

I don’t fully understand 

even as an adult

I feel myself move like my father

touching my belly and smiling

at people for no reason

just passing on the memetic energy 

my mother’s absence remains however 

a tear in the fabric of space and time 

Venn Diagram

Venn Diagram

Intimacy

by Robert C Gaulke

Wednesday 3rd October 2018 8:05 pm

We climbed together
Higher and higher
Until the air was too thin

For heavy things
Like clothes
Attitudes and moods 

And when we reached
The top we were
Surprised to find

Nothing
Not a drop of
Moisture 

Both of us swallowed
By a gigantic
Whole

Fuck Yesterday

everything you love

is born out of tension 

and resistance to 

things as they are

you might be feted 

amongst friends

as some kind of 

worthwhile person

but that doesn’t go 

very far against 

a world trying 

to destroy itself

Your Hair

Your Hair

States Matter

States Matter

Reach out and I'll be there

Texting on my phone 

Head full of ambitions

Fears I barely share

We pass through one another

Always in phases

Although we look solid

We're dense with gas

If I could bond with you

Even for a short time 

Something greater 

Could happen

Something we can't 

Fully appreciate 

In our current 

Indeterminate states

Thursdays

Thursdays

Bring the drugs

I’ll get the beer

Come over

I’ll be here 

I want to feel up my solitude with you 

We can go out

We can eat something

Talk about people 

Who don’t mean anything

I want to feel up my solitude with you 

There’s nothing tricky about it 

You don’t have to move around 

Be in the know or even 

Have something to think about 

I want to feel up my solitude with you 

there’s nothing sexy about it

there’s nothing sexy about it

Tribulations

Tribulations

baby I need you so much

I’d do anything for you

I think of you night and day

spending all my love on you

because I can’t think of anything else

with lines from a pop song

we don’t talk about the world

just our own emotions

so let’s burn down banks with love

kill administrations with our touch

takeover workspaces with thoughts

torture the cia just because

then we can get back to what we do

not waste our imaginations

on anything so obscure 

as our own tribulations

Summer of Thinking Too Much

goo.gl/RfakKV

Battle Lines

Battle Lines

your police guard

on a horse

tipped to action 

in the park

shield lowered 

advancing her mount

squadron pounding 

hippie drums

waving her baton 

in the smoke 

coming down  

like Joan of Arc

this is progress

of some kind

the chant echoes

in minds 

on both sides

of the battle lines