I'm an empty dream

I'm sore as hell after spending the night battling kids again at the Bottom Lounge. I've never had to kick out so many people at a show before. Mostly drugs but a few for trying to get into fights with me when I told them to settle down. I'm small but don't fuck with me. The fun part was when I dragged this kid out who took a swing at me and shoved me...as I pushed him out the door...there were two plains clothes cops waiting and they grabbed him and started patting him down...sucks to be you asshole.

I broke down today and bought the Joanna Newsom CD, The Milk Eyed Mender. She deserves my money for making my brain feel all fuzzy when she sings...and her lyrics are great.

Peach, Plum, Pear
by Joanna Newsom


We speak in the store
I'm a sensitive bore
and you're markedly more
and I'm oozing surprise

But it's late in the day
and you're well on your way
what was golden went gray
and I'm suddenly shy

And the gathering floozies
afford to be choosy
and all sneezing darkly
in the dimming divide

And I have read the right books
to interpret your looks
you were knocking me down
with the palm of your eye

This was unlike the story
it was written to be
I was riding its back
when it used to ride me

And we were galloping manic
to the mouth of the source
we were swallowing panic
in the face of its force

I was blue and unwell,
made me bolt like a horse.

Now it's done.
Watch it go.
And you've changed some.
Water run from the snow.

Am I so dear?
Do I run rare?
And you've changed some:
peach, plum, pear

I also bought a dvd called Off The Charts about the weird world of the song-poem culture. Sounded interesting to me...I'll let you know.

I have class at 9am...so I must hit the hay while listening to my new CD. I was going to make a promise to update this more often...but fuck that...I'll get to it when I can.

good night...and dream empty dreams.