[THE RADIANT PATH] PT2

benji. 4am. central hillside. pissed off hooker walks home. texts saying she can hear the music clearly over four blocks away. neighbours do not say a fucking thing. no police are called. no patrol cars stop to cite us, warn us.... no squads even slow down. *this* from essentially the same bunch of concerned citizens who had the nerve to call the mayor and demand he turn DUBFEST (reggae) down.

is it just that *good*?
i'll let you be the judge, but
the answer we're lookin for
is NO. FUCK no.

it is EMPHATICALLY bad.

like draggin the nails of a pissed-off,
screeching she-cat acrossed a nursery
fulla screaming chinese opera babies
and the chalkboard backdrop between em whilst replacing the needle in your old 45 with the one from your scabby ass syringe as Ray Manzarek attempts to resolve the situation by steppin repeatedly on his own dick.

oh, and the beansidhe shrieking at me
that somebody gonna fuckin DIE, and
me-- quietly, calmly, patiently responding to 'er that Yes. i KNOW this.

but then,
doesn't someone always?

o2. [you *know* i am, but what are YOU?]

[HYPNOTOAD]

[SKEETER BYTES] 1A

BLACK MATH - [KUNDALINI GURU]

[$#€¶#°×!∆] III: ¢®¥ #@√°K

BLACK MATH - [EVP]

[MR. LYNCH'S HOT WHITE DAUGHTER] LIVE KEYS, IMPROVISED.

arpeggio summoned via early 80's model CASIO keys. recording via lovely built-in speaker.

[HALO, WINGS AND ARPS]

my head fulla straw
and my heart made of tin. . . .

thou art my god
and i am thy adam.

thePrinceofSleep

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