Three Trees

not writing for weeks makes everything ooze out my pores in the morning, before the birds have even awoken. no bursting or busting or bleeding, just slowly escaping as each butt is burned out in the secret jewelry case ash tray. i wear camels and marlboros on my skin like charm bracelets and diamond rings hidden in perfume. i wonder how they sparkle in the sun when i look away to fake an emotion he'd rather see on the street instead of twirled in pillows and something warm, quietly drifting down curves where rich satins will never touch, but it's okay right because we're artists and all we need is love. and a piece of paper that says i'm good enough to the world. and three trees in our backyard to make it look just right to the neighbors and our family members. and two point five children. and a dog. and a cat. and luxurious fabrics my thighs will never touch.

Vieques: the palms always the sound of rain.

Airlock: It's all about humidity.

Newark - 10:47

smogsmogsmog smogsm smo ogsmog
mogsmogsmogs gsmogsmogsmog mogsmogsmogsmog
smogsmo sm ogsmog mogsmogsmogsmog

i tried to show you haze

Even the early bird doesn't know what 4AM looks like.

preparation:

we have reached the twelve hour countdown, minus forty minutes or so.

in my hand is negra modelo, and this is a beer I fisrt experienced
mixed with tequila at a mexican restaruant in the city across from
the mueseum where the dragon skeletons linger and the old men
with their beards are in glass cases and walk naked hand in hand.

it was probably the worst drink i've ever had. it wasprobably the best
meal i have ever had with th ebest company, the most beautiful woman

mexico has become puerto rico and the bus leaves tomorrow;
we hit the plane; we hit the tarmac; we hit the clouds; we hit
the jungle.

typhoid and dengu fever

company.

channeling hunter s. thompson by doing rumshots.

streaming mobile

for three weeks,
posting on the run
once a day, live
from puerto rico