17
betwixt
somewhere between
the
"click"
and the
slide of
ink to paper
he lost
everything
he thought
he was made of.
somewhere between
the smell
of her perfume
and the taste
of her lips
he thought
he just may
have found it.
until he
wrote about it
again.
in the fuzzfogshishishwvuptidshishishish
between
fm stations
;where
Three Dog Night
and Led Zep
compete
for moodspace
;he wonders
why it can't
all be as simple
as
and old
radio dial.
Joy-to-da-fishes in-fucking-deeeeeed.
somewhere
between then
and there
he knows
that's where
he's always been.
between
flicking a smoke
through the crack
in the window
and wishing
he hadn't
because
maybe
just
maybe
there was
one more drag
between
the cherry
and the filter
he wonders
why
he had never
noticed
all the inbetweens
before.
Chris "the beak doctor" Groah is a hippiebilliepsycadeliadude from the middle of nowhere, VA. He vomits words from his eyes and they find they're way to the paper in the same splatterspray form you see in his brain. He also touches himself more than he will admit to.
