an overhead view of the reflection in my eyes of my bed as i sleep within alone, restless i rise, forcing my will to straighten simon says with chakras the lizard with his ego crawls crouches on the ground kneels to his lust i rise burning my karma and laughing at the violent wind that tries to scare me into gripping a tree i am the nearest tree my index fingers amputate themselves and form a mandala the time we spend in the spring grinding our souls to make diamond bling will be the end of everything after this fall i see the sadness in the suffering face of my god my planet my all the only thing you can do is yoga to break the patterns of the pigs that raised us stop going to mcdonalds cheers as i drink of my liberated blood cheers to forsaking the ones that would own your blood and toss you into a fishbowl with another fish one exotic and unknown so to instill fear and then watching us fight to make money I'll chain myself to the broken pattern to prove that it is there to all of you who would not care lest your eyes be opened by a modest martyr though you think you know you still lay fallow your yoga is not deep unless you breathe shallow let kundalini rise and she will be your eyes in your restless fight against loneliness and desire i will mediate through meditation
The Salmon house and Carter house feud i wouldnt trade all the silver and gold you had for one single memory i lost at the salmon house all the silver and gold ive grown cannot compare to the purple smiles of raspberry faced dready angels, the faeries and elves of Dionysus i spent my 24th birthday flapping grits for people I despise smack dab in the wasteland designed by crack smoking nabbers of freedom now ive thumbed my way far away to arrive at the salmon house where the cats and dogs are so tripped out where the tallest living organisms are the canopy for us bottom dwellers where i sit with genius minds and freestyle drunk blow the fog into a donut shape and dip it in my caffiene the sun comes out at 9:18 and we rise hung over in upside down hammocks the babies all stay up late in rooms full of anarchist medicinaries that seek the beautiful life of living a reservation tribe in trinity humboldt nation will always be an ancient society untold of like antlanteans and lizardmen the salmon house will spawn a million ideas some will make it upstream some will perish in the greedy despair of our thinning air the powerplant tuna meltdown of 2012 will take the sun valley down and the sammy goes with it reluctantly but it fought to the last drop of blood that it could suck from the mainstream artery flowing back to DC the ganja's nice too