The Archangel of Dust

Roaming Snyder 5 hours ago · Edited “steal away far from home lose yesterday,” moments shrieked inside my head with a pointless burgeoned stare. “Fade away, break until you become…” ‘Hope is all I’ve become to break hearts and spit on the little Sell them choices, play their dreams Even though I can tell you it’s pointless…

The Black Scarecrow

scratch lyrics from Barnabas Collins there is no question about my way and the man i’ve become but you took my arrows and stoned my weakness Now I hold the door, let you in my hollow can’t you see, my wicked means my empty sound my hollow beat my frozen needs but the time will…

Scratch Lyrics from Elvis Angel, the Wandering Minstrel

Scratch lyrics from Roaming Snyder (by Elvis Angel) open road, my cart, steeds in front of me. i lift my hand but no one sees, the dark is filled with smoke and hollowed trees hologram breathes fire, looks like god but we know he’s mean, like no one we’ve ever seen. light my pyre, with…

The Cat That Was Suffocated Under the Ass of Dom Deloise

Being part of that group experience where you are sort of looking forward to being in the group until you see how the group shakes out, what empty vessels rise to the top(cream and empty vessels rise to the top) to remind you just why you fucking hate groups. On my way, cartoon day, sun…

The Children of the Plains

Mind in the energy jumping from molecule to molecule, spiraling around the stalks of bones and reaching toward the sky. There is an operating apparatus in my skull, and I awaken in a factory after i have been harvested and given physical therapy to develop my anatomical structure so that it will be ready for…

From the Ballad of Romy Snyder

Written in Romy’s 50th year.   “Memories bleed through the day that i see as I turn in shallows wandering, and the steps are getting sleepier through the haunting, as i wake and fade and i look to blood for affection.”

From the Ballads Of Romy Snyder

Now I can see my portrait in a corner, in the dust and mother’s voice from her fortress is withering with rust time can’t steal her features as we rolled our car down the hill arms pressed forward and her head snaps back froze in a pose that could never look back tazed and tethered,…

From the Hymns of Elvis Angel

the experience, the voice of the third eye… peel away the fetter blow away the tether pump and turn forever in her eye I am born A mirage, a feint the curse of a blind saint patron of three generations Who’s freezing, cracking haunted the eye of birth and still breaking up and wanting this…

Scratch Notes From the Hymns of Elvis Angel

i’ve found you, silhouette, bent, shrunken shriveled but still, you never weave or bleed or feel regret never seem to bend or wiggle Out in the air together in the breeze sad songs just lap and tickle smudges and blurs bleed and twinkle i’ll give, you burn a little a little feed to feel a…

The Hero Is A Cat Who Shows Herself From the Dark On Occasion

heroes are within. the admirable qualities of the other have always been there right along with the rotten ones. it is just the manager hired a flunky to hold the spotlight of your perception on one ingredient and you took it for the entire recipe.