i'm not sure what these are called...

"it's not dark enough yet", she said, and pushed him hard in the back. how had he thought that this would be a good idea? the moon pushed it's way through the trees overhead and some sort of night bird clucked when they got too close to the nest. "i'm hungry," he said. the moonlight silver reached the ground of the old hill. she pulled half a loaf of bread out of her bag.
"that's all you brought?"
"it's got raisins in it."
the moon howled. so did the wolves.
it suddenly seemed like a bad idea, a halloween visit to this place.


sets down the guitar

"dude, we're just writing songs," he said, and his head glanced off of the idea like a rock wall. "there is no agenda. no money. no marketing analysis of each track, spending millions to figure out which ones will play well on the radio- we're just trying to write songs. and some times that is fucking hard."

picks up the guitar


if you peek under the edge of the world
you'll see an upside down hole
dug by and leading into a burrow occupied by
the legendary
head-footed
snarl-proofed
upside-downed
ground hog.

he will tell you
your upside-down future
and your upside-down past,
but don't you worry
because when you turn something
right-side-up
you never know
how gravity
will make it feel.


i want hip-swinging rock n' roll
black n' white tv
summer mountains
and
sharks' teeth
the way it felt when we skinned our knees
playing when we were young
peeling off our scabs
being kids again