burgoynealexburgoyne

Be in old spaces.
Say yes constantly. It’s fun.
Get guts on the walls.

Blow your horn and punch
the goddamned world in the face.
Let money be last.

Monday slugs along
I stick in the muck it drags
My brain, heart, and hands

Let’s all get degrees
in things we love, not find jobs,
and get jobs in sales.

Let’s pretend to be
happy to see each other
and then maybe so

Suddenly you’re stuck.
Nature, noise in your pocket,
and love in the house.

I needed a vacation.
And then I got one.

Blinker.
Will I get out? Ever? Now?
Not now. Not ever.

(From long ago)
(From far away)

row, row, row your boat
merrily, merrily, on…
life is but a dream

yankee doodle went
riding on some sort of horse
feather, hat, noodles…

Old Macdonald’s farm,
onomatopoeia and
spelling, soooOOooo condesceding.

can we come up some new
kid songs? these are just the worst.

it’s not the edge, it’s the middle.
let’s traverse the edge, and feel the height of failure,
so fear and success travel together.

Did you know that if
you find a porch, sit all day!
Not just in evening.

With the motion of
success, comes the commotion
of catastrophe.

Also,

I’ve started running
The night breeze or the morning cool
Does not rid all pain.

It’s very nice afterward,
It’s not as nearly as nice whilst.

Sound is sound without
intention and attention.

Music is Nobrow

I forgot about
the wet soggy dampness of
late springtime foot sweat.

by Jen DeStio

Bros on corner speak
about some chick with a great
Body, but(t),
Bad face…

I write a blahg to
grow resilient of sad;
to artfully rid.

Better out than in.
Better short than long.
Better raw than right.
Better write than wrong.

Take a hike, clean house.
Clear the cobwebs and plant seeds.
Smell spring potential.

Baking is a thing
Like a storm – clouds bring thunder
and warm yeasty goods.

It’s spring! It’s nice and
warm and sunny, still bills
but who cares, it’s spring!

It’s the thing that glows
It burns your brain, eats inside
And ruins your life

Cold rain is a friend.
Not one you like very much,
that you tolerate.

Sometimes there isn’t
a method, rhyme nor reason;
Lo, only madness.

Man’s never full of
so much spirit, that Netflix
can’t shortly fell him.

Like a flood or quake
Fury blurs my vision and
I’m gasping for air.

It’s not that bad but it is.
It’s not that bad but it is

Impromptu band day
A little Mexican. And
some food and web stuff.

Why we gotta make
a monetary issue
out of everything?

If you have a lot, maybe
just share a little here, there.

It’s as if the world
Is reminded weekly that
I existed before.

PS, You’re an ass.
Also, I said it wasn’t…
but it was. It’s you.

Quitting a bad thing
opens your brain. Out spills this
oozee of shiny muck.

I’m over trying
to be someone I am not.
It’s time to do me.

I have a lady.
Her name is Amy and she
is just the raddest.