eye...

photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

bush house hotel, quakertown, pa

photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

self

photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

asleep at the wheel

... yes, it's true, i'm asleep at the wheel;
longing for attention and a decent laugh.
yes, it's true, i'm tortured... so what?
take a stab at this, stab at this.

and to think it's all come to this;
one blinding flash, and the horizon is gone.
sink our souls into the swirling black,
and inhale as if we even had a chance.

yes, it's true, i'm asleep at the wheel;
dancing and laughing in your headlights.
hit me once again with those eyes i love;
and run me down, run me down.

words and photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

moon. trees. house. november 2005...

photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

stars over the white mountains, new hampshire

photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

progress is being made, one tower crane at a time...

photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

this is the direction from which you came...

photograph © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

the events of the last few hours were nothing short of impressive

The crickets were cacophonous the last night
Alarmed, the insects of the world jumped at the sound of the squealing trumpet piercing the biting cold night.
The first angel dropped from the sky, soaring through the black starry sea in a fiery blaze, spitting glimmering red onto the treetops.
The faultlines fractured, tossing stone and flesh from its back,
The oceans churned and drained before rushing past the shore line, consuming… rushing… permeating. Thousands gagged with salt water.
When dawn peaked through the blue, it was choked black.
The second angel screamed, puncturing eardrums by the millions as he dropped to earth.
Rivers flowed backwards.
Blood streamed from the clouds.
Volcanoes ejaculated after years of holding back.
The burning whores in the brothels begged. And the deviants suffered. The sinful flogged with the devil’s tail.
The locusts came that afternoon, devouring and swarming. chewing and devastating. It was hypnotic. I nearly cried.
squads sweeping through cities, faceless and gurgling death rattles.
Choking ash.
Murder for survival, mercy killing, suicide in every imaginable form.
Lawlessness, abandonment, abolishment, revolt.
Morale majority fucking for one last time.
When the third angel soared above, most were gone.
Those left were treated to solar flares, whipping the world with scolding punches; lungs ignited, skin melted, organs failed. I nearly cheered.
Forests toppled. Tongues were swallowed.
Animals burned. Crimson.
Birds dropped from thin air. Pungent. Nauseated.
Soulless. Sewers clogged with billions of dead rats.
Debauchery. Flies.
Last rites. Agony.
Forgiveness for sin… just in case.
Silence.
Lunar.
Black.
Gone.
You are responsible for this.

photograph and words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

here's the trick:

watch and learn. don't repeat. drive fast. look around. kiss the girl. go to the ocean. stand on the jetty. swallow salt water. sleep with boots on. love. listen. be active. take your meds. stay away from dark corners. vote. appreciate art. learn guitar. sing. listen to nick drake's 'place to be.' swing at night. get wet. have one too many. mosh. read thompson. hate government/love country. take pictures. go to the toy store. pay attention to johnny cash. don't watch tv. avoid american news organizations. get hospitalized. don't objectify. buy tv on the radio albums. paint. give it all away. be alone. breathe. lie on back/look at stars. don't like republicans. fuck judgment. all things in moderation. don't eat red meat. swallow. be sure to learn to swim. pay attention to robert johnson. educate yourself about the carlyle group and the project for the new american century. visit san francisco. collect rocks. sleep. eat tofu. send postcards. follow your heart. never get gas at exxon. avoid parents. eat breakfast burritos. try the mint chocolate chip ice cream. watch the muppets. break something. be uncomfortable. write for a magazine. die in the woods beneath the hemlock trees.

photograph and words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper

bloodletting

so buried, i am, under this drift of biting snow,
nipping and tasting me with its icy chokehold, fingering my larynx.
damn this frost, creeping into my mouth and down into my lungs;
fuck this rot spewing from within.
so dying, i am, under the thump of this 10-ton hammer,
resting on my chest and smothering my limp soul.
damn this parade and all you sycophants leading the charge;
fuck this absurd desire to breathe.
so airless, this thin path — this deepening wound,
bloodletting without end.
damn this hole, from which i shout:
fucking cover me now or never look at me again.

photograph and words © 2005 by k. all rights reserved; nothing may be reproduced without written consent of theeverlastingfunstopper