text deficit

i'm sitting at work creating little conversational
scenes in my head. i picture myself sitting and
talking with an older gentleman in front of a small
crowd of people. we speak of travel and the universal
similarities of people that make the little
differences seem so big. the conversation drifts
toward love and how we cast that role of "partner."
its still a perplexing discussion for me- you should
have heard the ridiculously grandeous analogy we used;
something about love being this enormous planet that
all conversation, like little satelites, inevitably
come crashing into with flame and deep impact... it
was silly. we'll get back to casting: we spoke of the
heart as if it were a seperate entity with its own
mind whose thoughts we weren't able to see. we toyed
with that idea until interest began to fade. we then
referred to it as a mold by which to test suitors (i'm
not sure if suitor can refer to a female but i'm using
it). the decision was made that the first one to
wander into that heart would set the mold and everyone
after would have to work and compromise to fit in.
suddenly our conversation moved to makeup.

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in front of a television throwing a lamp

i'm keeping trouble in the back of my mind at all times
when i'm driving and when i'm speaking
maybe its just good design
i'm keeping thoughts balanced, dim inside/bright all around

some urges are hard to explain
i'd like to throw a lamp while its lit
watch for that brief moment when the cord catches and time glitches
watch the glass fly through sparks and the endless stream of tv between me and the wall
i guess if i ever lose myself in rage i'll be sure to
leave the tv on and position myself
properly to achieve the full effect
-would i find myself or lose myself in rage?
then i'll describe it to someone and they'll find some
hidden meaning in all of it
hey, stop hiding meaning in my actions

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still ever it

people collide and clouds rush together
a man removes his hat to share a thought
where roads overlap nameless men break

and angels...
angels don't have genitals or navels, because they don't reproduce
is androgyny angelic?
my dad once said "when it rains on a sunny day, thats the angels pissing on us."
maybe they are crying jealously at people in love

affectionate songs should be quicker and burn out

i'd like to leave tracers
i want my sighs to shake the earth like thunder
i'd like to give a dense and empty hole to every room i leave
i want the closing door to take everyone's breath away

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adj johnny's website can be found at

2003 Underground Voices