No Thanks I'm Just Looking Right Now

two nights and it all revovled around my birthday when the cowboy dude says. She's only how old? Woman are so concern with their age while the rest of us look like shit and do nothing to improve. This windy night out in the sage brush country where the only bar, that is pizza and beer is open. The band Mussentouchit is setting up their amps while the cowboy guy is saying can you play rick whatever. Their not from germany and the whiskey is with the wild girl by her car. So more cowboys wander in and my friend Cody he just shoed a bunch of horses and he likes Hemmingway later drunk he tells me that he doesn't understand my poetry. How do you tell a cowboy that it doesn't matter instead I use a symbol, pot, you know when mary jesus has all these unique flavors. Yea, me and the boys are going to smoke some now he tells me. I like this captain even though he's got alot of sheriffs concerned. Something about getting toasted with the hard spurred type that makes this art seem like it's a pussy, but see thats where I'm deadly. Eveything you hear is laughable and i'm a cat. Cody hunts cats in fact its his job when he's not giving tourists a ride out in the sandal wood desert and I'm back at the joint with these girlies following me like I'm a god, cause they know I have a position with something wildly awry and these boys can't touch it. The drummer sits with me and John who is the king is talking to Jas holy fucking hippies is that my drink. Its funny how they think of me as the idiot and only the few. Tanya spelled like dawn is next, she is my clutch over the big high close to nothing mountains. No, really she's just a friend, how I ended with that book on sales. Do i look like sales, be brief and getting more wasted than a pluto. Finally the sad wild girl is over cause her boyfriend drummer didn't dig the cowboy she hopped and dug into. She sits on my lap but its useless I'm not a savoir and this dumb book with its title on the table alone is worth a coaster or twenty five year mark up or a fucked-up dance, why did Uncle Dave leave so early. And so much trouble, in this little spit of a town with two highways, one leading up into mountain range and the other going down into the rocks and sand, sell that on a billboard of a sexy woman with a beer.

splatter art 

A Sorcerers Dream Everyone Elses Nightmare

If a Pinecone could talk to the River sniffing each others butt. And limbo was artificial intelligents working for the stars, gathering up everybodys numbers and casting its own favorites, I asked a computer techie if theirs a mystery with machines, was like asking the same for science. Surgery the thrill of incision, pulling the plug. Life is a plug, my dad fell off the ladder with a can of paint and made a brilliant abstact splatter at the cost of his wrist, pins and rods. The wind went wild navigating through the trees. River doesn't like pepto bismo when she opened the cupboard with her nose and licked all the bacon grease from the garbage can. When I opened the door there was shit and vomit all over. Then she ran as fast as she could down to the river and Pinecone went hiding in the shrubs. Our survival instincts is what makes us. I think my laughter scared them both cause I have a tendency to cackle. I love disorder, cleaning up the messes, after I took them in a exclusive ravine and everything was so calm with the clouds rolling in. To be as unpridictable as nature is my ultimate goal. I couldn't help but to feel like a god walking out with the clouds and rocks. I have a silent confession, I love nature more than I do man and its sometimes hard to feel compassion in this state I'm in. I try to watch television to help but its so mundane that it makes it all worse. I think that my book in the coffee shop is misunderstood, instead when the milk was boycotted from my buisness and my appeal to Lee with the help of Uncle Dave. When I got a call from a collector about the restitution fees, I really threw the dice about never getting my statement and its true, I want to pay the fucker off, I really do. Opportunity is a gamble in the world of art, except when you are the art or a simple masterpiece. Most don't see themselves or others in that light. If you don't have any use than what use are ya, espicially when somebody else has to clean up your shit.

Scott Radd

hey you drunk

Back To Calling Myself A Lousy Artist

everything is chaos and don't tell me different, we create order cause its disturbing for us to know that its utterly useless just look at my window. Even a couch and television is exploding right now you just don't know it yet. The roads weave into space and back to sunshine evening driveways.You get out and the wind is breezy, calm with the tree limbs vacant of cash. Disorder abounds in huge revolutions and we only allow a little of it to witness with our perception cause we have to have something thats news worthy or our brains will travel to far and let the rabid bees out. You wouldn't believe me if I told you that a mountain lion is a different traveler than terriesterial man. Just let me lie in front of your camp fire with wine. Everything is so technical with the rocks. Have you just spoken one word today, outtage. I said I could make art out of anything even if it all breaks into a billion. A famous filmmaker tells me that its only good if its a commoditie. Graphic designs and coffe mugs, little quips on t-shirts to sell and then a comic book about your death. Hmmm, I can't even upload pictures into a stream as useless as leafs. The wind still reminds me when I walk out, how close it has become, since I stole the silver light. My black book of wonders is a joke about me in a coffee house while others are constantly in motion. A CURSE OR A VALUABLE TRADE OFF doesn't explain anything perfect about us. Hey Jo with her broken clavicle from landing wrong. Her weather shapped rugged hair blond and blue sky eyes. I have such sleepy talk about so much of nothing but thats what I'm hired to do. I need to be more wordly my fashion sucks and i need to crack the shell briliant art cause these words are just chesnuts.

Don't tell me about the spelling I don't give a fuck.

Academic versus Me

I put this paragraph on but it didn't feel right so I went back to shirtless. Having just shaved my chest with a ladys razor makes me feel cool and sexy. From the mirror my darling you look fine, its good to have objects like this around. At the opening and closing of the gates of heaven can you take the part of a women the Tao says. Does that mean beauty or bitchy. Magick in my tease, a women walks in my store, I'm bronze, getting ready to put on the cobra and she says. Your book is really deep, do you find alot of other beatnik types in these parts. My word goes underappreciated because of cowboy poetry and college pricks that think. Scholars are good for one thing, like unraveling enigmas but let us create the word. I heard the comment that my espresso is aggressive but I'm proud just ask my mirror. Paris Hilton isn't the only one that looks like a super model ya know. The pot was good at Uncle Daves to get silly and shooting for hours along the desert highway, movement in composition, thats what my poetry is. I meet somebody new everyday, today its a billionare from boston he likes drugs, is it on my face, why do people make these kind of confessions. He's sixty and loves ecstasy thats why he lives in south east texas. Really, I say, can I get a candy clover4. No, instead I get advice about my finance just what I need, even though I'm broke as a witch in medieval times going backwards. So Jack can I have a valium I have a headache and it should be that easy, to get laid with a goddess. See how I move, my locomotive is fast and I'm inside every word. No appreciation for the word mother fuckers of the world. God girls love me cause I'm cool in my sunglasses. The problem that I have with todays poets pinksys brodskys and mcclatchys heironiemus clinton carter jack jim and jill, is that your dull and boring. The worst thing you can do to an artist is make them rich. Were shapeshifters and should be stretched to the edge. We should have no choice but to be versatile and our enemy dogma is our target. Throw a little fashion inside and you got the gypsy star, way out west, space funk, timo mast, next time poet, I'll let your tongue do the work, thats what she said and feels my trim. I'm always told that I have the lips of a angel, even when I'm not on. Originality who sucked it away could be our school time in a bleak or dumb american tastes or phenomenal television or briliant comic books or the dark movie house without grass or a chic. I'm the chic thats going to rock the world, I'm in touch with my woman cause I'm a bad poet and screw the spelling. To much time spent on the correct I'm here to make it wrong, I feel the symbolism in me. Last night getting stoned with gypsy dave I imagine what would happen if a deified came to earth and how the chain reaction like in the Metamorphosis turned beast into reasoning creatures and certain individuals into dangerous dionysians and apollos with all the raging goddess girls getting through teen angst and women that are now the moon and planets while watching the simpsons and getting the suspicious feeling that theirs a whole bad tribe of dudes, who want to crucify my star. When i left to explore back to my night place, Uncle Dave says 'be careful'.

Homecoming Confused

I knew something was wrong driving into town its just to damn quiet even for a sleepy place like this. Mad, disenchanted and ahead I look in the mirrors. My shop has a fat espresso machine and everyone knows it, without throwing to many fits tweeking this, adjusting that, making a brown beard on my face from grinding coffee. Uncle Dave said I looked a little flipped out from tasting a hundred espressos. I was fuzz'in and I knew. Everybody has something to say and won't say it to me and my geuss is that its all bad. I know cause I've been here and I can read their thoughts. Byrons politics and Aspens bolt-cutter, dogmas by reason and I thought I left feild trails of anarchy behind. I don't think Uncle Dave is going to be watching my back anymore because he has a new old lady, even the fancy golf balls from sundance was seconds by far and the glow in the dark bud lost in the twilight zone is proof. So! I filmed some grand openings upon the red book cliffs, spring is going to bloom a delirious scent trust me. Same cute girls coming around, passing the corners of the south west desert scenes perfect for road trips. If Byron thinks I'm going to be his henchman I've got a big surprise for him, and his political elitistist views on the jewish conspiracy of dogma and I know the women of cuddle bears heard about my binge and taking a knife to some tires on a bad full moon. Everybody here is a judge by the rules of what they think is right. Thinking is stupid, but thoughts can lead a individual to brilliant realizations, that I've learned from poetry. Also opinions are worthless when pure experience rules supreme, less boundaries you have with people, the easier it is to get in and I've been in. They can tell cause theres this air of celebration about me, everything has changed with everyone to though. A little hope, I've had some inquirers ask about my book and so early in the season. I still feel like I'm a whore but I'm going to keep it in the back and VIP ropes. This is going to require extreme caution or its back a porn actor somewhere ugly. I still think of making love to her even though her ex-husband said he would blow my head off, this town has some of the wild wild west principles intact and my old allys are gone. At least Diamond Dan would stand with me in the gloam of disaster but he's dead. In my dream it was shit and vomit. I wonder how he's doing in the afterlife singing in the kaoroke bars of slum. I think I'm going to stay under the radar for a little while or until a college girl picks me out for a trip. Maybe I'll get lucky and be a famous poet. Excuse the bad spelling theres a pop up blaster on this computer nothing ever works right with me, espicially things. Except for maybe chaos. I think I'll make it out alive again, thats all that counts anymore, the money is not important as long as I can pay my claims, if not then I'm a wanted man, again. If I just had one angel on my side I would feel better about my chances. Maybe a Dryad or her Unicorn sister, well I could say Paris but thats just plain ridiculous. Well theres always a girl from europe that likes my book and for me this starts a new year, March not January. O yea spells sometimes work pretty good cause I'm so far out on the fringe of society and the wilderness is just around the corner. I just see to many bad signs maybe I'm overreacting but I usually don't get this paranoid unless I'm driving contraband with class A felony's in my cowboy boots. I'm a pretty good actor though. Its important to infilterate everything for my poetry. Damn I wish I would have brought my dictionary not just for spelling but for divination, sometimes it helps with clairevoyants too. Peace of mind on the gravestone thats what the magpies say when they squawk I'm just killing time now I should bail before I really get redundant.