Day Keg in Transylvania

Lets Have a Day Keg in Transylvania

Drinking stale Romanian wine a’flowing

From thick barrels burly men and women walking to and fro

Sitting talking lighting fires

Winning losing beer pong brawls

I’ll maybe let them think I’d dare to know a close-kept secret

Wasted by the morning, smoking sativa till that big red sun goes down

Barbecue is burning fiercely, boogie now back across town

Gomma get the garlic

Night is coming

Too quick

Scream bloodsucker

Hack her now

Wood stick

Stay awake now for another keg to come

Come closer, wipe it away my pet

Nowadays a good one’s worth the ride to the castle

My horse and cart hasn’t broke down yet

But when it does beware because

Drac will bite what he can get

Whatever he can get

But drink up grand Trans vestiges drink to now subdue the slime

Grab an ass and let love kill the bride another time

Raise thy glass and listen to the gothic organ music play

Better to dance this time of day

Compass, Take Me Home

Have you ever wandered north? Felt the air grow anciently crisp and chilled as an ice cube, crystalline? Watched the nights grow shorter or longer depending? Have you been wrapped in fur and fiery dispensation? nostalgic and comfortable are these summer retreats.

Have you ever travelled east? to the big exotic cities and breathed the polluted beauty of red-lit air? Watched their confident well-dressed women stride along to urgent appointments? Sat in bars that locals call a hole in the wall, but which your hometown would proudly claim as its great saloon, waiting for a friend to walk in the door and remark on the probabilities in such chaos? Exuberant and overly-sophisticated are these towering rooms.

Have you ever taken a greyhound bus south? And reveled in the sweet citrus fields of a wealthy relative? Watched the populations dwindle while growing close to care for the strangers that might arrive, good hearted in the humid night. Heard hushed folks reconcile past and present in their back-room conversations? Lurid but gentle are these chivalrous hollows.

Have you ever gone west? Smelt the breeze of an ocean who’s current never sped your trip, but whose foamy waves you love just the same. Been in search of something, and found it playing cards with its questionable friends? Learned the pervasiveness of the immigrant, and seen care-free lovers lose more than they thought they had to begin with? Here, you can still catch the sunset before anyone finds out that it rose. Styled and cheap are these cavalier mansions.

Tell me, oh! From whence did I come?

Impressions of a fight

Impressions of a Fight

Sketch that secret love song till it bursts with magma furious
Fighting curious laughing punching biting through thick boxing gloves
There among the dew drenched grass and mud lies my drawn blood
Funneled into fearful glorious tainted loves

My hand bursts forth without remorse, there is no sorry still
Till high o’er head the swine is dead and falls down Ender’s hill
Though stretch I do, I’ll imagine you were thinking just the same
But no longer shall the wind be blamed, whims will kill only a name

For names are bitter poppies short to numb my shoeless feet
And since they’ll never meet my lips I’ll leave them loitering in the street
An impotent bastard I’ll ascend on jasmine petals, heaven’s end
For a friend is worth the bacon, and I can stand the heat