| Stupid and Boring PamFriedEhli/Fall 1990 Stupid and boring drinking and whoring too easy to do too hard to live through I'll extricate you from my life if I have to 'cause your favorite song to sing is stupid and boring. Synthetic or real the power rush we feel every time I get into you and you into me, kid will kill us not heal and it's boring and stupid. Shock Show PamFriedEhli/Fall 1990 In these days of faceless friends and friendless faces mount your crippled steed and let corroded metal press it's designs into your back. The Holy God, the predestined some of a twig & the Holy dollar: I pray & pay for salvation & my very own manifestation. Aging rock icons in their youth dispense rhyming commands to joint their lambada. Push a blond haystack off your face. They made rock hard. If you'll just stand still... The demonic white eyes pay tribute to (dead) innocence. Yeah, I like to dance. Bizarre psychotic traits meld in father & mother to get passed on, double-dosed. No one's a new person; there are shades of something familiar even in a shock show. Shades, Sides and Lines PamFriedEhli/Fall 1990 "...me and the Devil, walkin' side by side..." + + by The Cowboy Junkies I want to cry for the days of C---, replayed by an older, harder, more untamed version of the virgin putty I was then. Breathlessly waiting for and expecting nothing. Chasing the wind again, further south. You're a little boy. So now nothing's simple. My reputation is a wall; I can sense that: "...that you're a waste of time for me..."?? Every episode is supposed to be the last, but human emotion and memory screams, "Encore!" Here I am offering to do to you, what it took to make me drive someone else away. It would be easier than anything, It would be harder than anything to shut the door on this thing. I want to be your escape hatch, the place you run to evade "life." You owe me nothing; you never would. What could I collect as payment? You're dealing with a grounded phoenix. I've already risen from the ashes and I'm sitting here waiting, walking the fine line between swallowing my pride and keeping my dignity. Perhaps it is that various stages of friendship should not take a conscious effort. So where is all this coming from? I can pick that question from the bewildered expression I force upon your face. The bottom of my heart. My wildest dreams. Something given to me by nail-pierced hands and feet. The craving for something, anything, that means something. |
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| Since 2-22-03 |