Bronchial

Bronchial

it's done by driving

in the car is always the first time

I notice it's winter

even in California, you just see shit

flying around everywhere, you notice

the trash, because you're cold and trash

is always cold, inanimate, and dead.

There's this industrial area and ian curtis

there's empty signs and you know things are bad

there's guys in the projects waiting on bikes

grown men with shorts over windbreaker pants

sitting on some little sister's bike that's pink

and has nice gears and shit

and these guys all look the same in black hats and

cheap nokia cell phones, waiting, moving like the trash.

It's different here because the projects are single storied,

each has a little cubicle yard and the parents all

leave the laundry on the line so when it rains

it gets re-wet, just like the spoon, and just like

the couch in smells like sweat after drying up.

And so I work out here, I listen to the winter

I can feel my bones and wear boots so the concrete

isn't my best friend, but not a nemesis.

There's a drug worth dealing in and my cough

brings me codeine sleep, codeine day

codeine night.

The doctor said mountains are rivers

the doctor said the plains are test sites

the doctor said she'll take care of you

and the doctor said these are the days

don't go to the hospital, the doctor said

this is where you live drowned out and on fire.

And I think the mountains are rivers

and I think everyone is the same sometimes

that we are all functioning by the same devices

some just got fucked up wiring

some need to be re-booted

and others are running on nothing.

I'm in the middle but far out

catching a ride

letting my hard-drive swim

etching the tired waves done gone

in my motherboard with my wife

loving the days as they pass, watching death

go by and come back as beauty.