whazoo crazy
white piss
in the shitter
fly'n high in New Mexico
paying for
Canadian whiskey
in
America
realize
I'm a lost artist.
Here
pieces fly for big bucks
and I ain't got wings.
About Me
- Dale Hunt
- He's become comfortable in that ol' civil war jacket. What would compliment that mess of hair? A sage cigarette, a bottle in his hand and a book in his pocket. A hobo at heart a drunk by night and a rambling pain. Tired and old before his time. Studying the greats Bukowski, Tom Waits William S. Burroughs and Hunter S. Thompson, Kerouac and John Steinbeck. Drinking Brandy and Cockspur rum from the bottle. Hiding down South for the winter months running from the cold and consequence.
1 comment:
...I once, was lost ,but now, I'm found.
Was blind but now I see...
Your "box" should be getting full of bits of inspiration by this point. When you get home it will be time to reflect on the journey, and pull some of these things out and give them wings.
I see your writing more since you left. Good on Ya. jd
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