lonely as the anghor wat, as the mermaid at the prow of a ship. spending all afternoon in an ouji board trance, immersed in folly. left like a porno mag at a playground. ho-hum. string together a few words to talk about this jonah's whale hollowness inside me. fee fie fo fum. sharks smell blood, & so does dorthy of oz. i also had a dream today about c.s. lewis the serial killer. & being forced to walk home in the always winter never christmas while wearing a t-shirt. a fucking band t-shirt no less. oh the humilation. for my next performance i'm going to dream of the tuatha de daanan coming to ireland in the mists of their burning ships. the nine o' clock (9:00) show is diffrent from the eleven o' clock (11:00) show. the faces of shrimp make me think of gobins in helmets. thats the talisman i'm going to take with me when i go back to bed. nothing can resist my goblin charm.
