Going to see Little Techie play at Java Junction @ 8. You should come too! I'll be there with some CDs incase anyone wants one. I have about 4 The War Inside My Brains left and about 6 The World After Aprils, but with crappy covers. In person, payment is on donation basis only.

I've been writing a lot, but haven't had the time or ambition to post any new poems lately. Here are a few to make up for it.

*Hearts Locked in Lethe*

Isn't it just like the black sheep to not leave a will and testiment
I've been beautiful and broken for a million years if a day
Naked corpose stiff as a statue

The ghost of the living lays next to me in bed
I can feel her here like one of those dreams where she flys in through the window
She is breathing faintly, struggling

The young have a tendency to pair off
Now hear the word of the lord all ye unfaithful
Dem dry bones gonna walk around

They're getting louder and more frequent now
The locusts of self-doubt draw closer
Sometimes I can talk myself right out of what I tell myself to do

The aphids are restless and intoxicated with their ambrosia
The pollen lingers on their lips as they move to squalk out another proverbial chapter
They love the story too much to think of any decent ending

I'm lost again in the hall of mirrors
Someone lured me in; I was closing my eyes and holding their hand
Now I'm somewhere in the middle wielding a brick

We've bent the bars of our cages too long
It's time for someone to bake a cake with a chainsaw inside
I hear the blades stay nice and cool in the oven

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life
Today I'm just too old to change
And the steel joints of this rickety old skeleton are rusted from hanging in a closet for too long

*[untitled]*

I had a great name for this poem but I forgot what it is
I couldn't remember if I tried
It came to me in a daze like a dove from heaven and left my mortal head just as swiftly
Now it's gone gone gone like the candy after the piñata breaks
So why even bother

Am I right?

Tell me I'm right
Because I've been through a lot lately and I just need to hear that
To make me feel like the victim of sincerity and the forgotten amidst chastity

Sometimes we just close our eyes to things we'd rather not see
Like that day she moved her desk closer to mine and we accidentally held hands
Then we just forgot everything; just friends again

So is this one of those things that just get filed away under 'stuff it's best if I didn't talk about ever again'
Or is it one of those magical touches like they describe in the movies where paradigms change and hope is resurrected

I had a feeling
But it's long since passed
I was too scared to describe it for the longest time
But now I'm just hoping you'll listed

Dolly Parton's on the television singing about riding horses
Then she drives off into the sunset in an SUV
A cloud of smoke follows her
And someone wonders where the flowers ran away to as they kiss her glossy-paper lips ont he wall of a mountain shack where ghosts once sang the blues at night
But now even they're too scared to come out

a good website: http://www.sonicyouth.com/

What is this world coming to? (3 stupid things)
Ever notice how many stupid blogs there are? Go to blogger.com and look at some of the latest published. The internet doesn't exactly attract the crem de la crem.
Jonathan Frakes (Commander Richer on Star Trek: TNG) directed that dumb Nickelodian movie, Clockstoppers. Oh Jonathan.
IM conversations:
* the wrong way -
HalighALieHaligh: hey, do you have any spare change?
ThisIsntJoeSoto: yea
ThisIsntJoeSoto: in my pocket
ThisIsntJoeSoto: i like the coise it makes
HalighALieHaligh: do you mind lending a brother some for a cup of coffee and a bowl of soup?
ThisIsntJoeSoto: oh why not at all **(cleaning monicle)**
HalighALieHaligh: thank you brother
ThisIsntJoeSoto: oh why anytime you ball of filth, just never ask again
HalighALieHaligh: thanks you fat capitalist pig
ThisIsntJoeSoto: thats what im here for...now when will i be getting my pennies back
ThisIsntJoeSoto: i need some bacon
ThisIsntJoeSoto: BACON!!
HalighALieHaligh: go kill a cop
ThisIsntJoeSoto: BAAACCCOOONNN!!!!
ThisIsntJoeSoto: ill stab him with a 100 dollar bill
ThisIsntJoeSoto: like i did your mother
ThisIsntJoeSoto: o well.....pobodys nerfect

Good British TV shows:
The Prisoner
Chef!
Doctor Who
Red Dwarf
Monty Python's Flying Circus

Trendy people are only trendy as long as being trendy is in. After that they go out like the suit they wore last week.

So I finally have a few minutes so I'm posting some crap up here. First of all, thanks to everyone who came out and saw me play Friday. It was way cool. Especially thanks to Savannah, Pat, Carl and the Brockport kidz, Hitli$t, 17th Class and everyone who gave me money for a CD. Too bad the Young Ones couldn't play. I was looking forward to seeing them. One of their dogs was on stage when I played though. Here's a new poem about being young.

*Frail Youth*

We are the ones who reach out our arms just to touch the sky
We are the ones who dance 'round and 'round in circles
We are the ones who believe dogs can talk
We are the ones you can call when you just need someone to be there because something terrible's happened
We are the ones who write little things in our little books for no one to ever read
We are the ones that you see marching through the streets at 2am blowing on stolen trombones in a paganistic procession
We are the ones that understand individual strands of yarn in a tapestry that covers the wall

We are young
We are alive and proud
We are all strange
And we are all revolutionary

We are the ones who break mirrors and sprinkle the shattered glass in the driveway just to prove there's no such thing as luck
We are the ones who dream of being cowboys, astronauts, presidents when we grow old, lose our hair and with it our fighting spirit
We are the ones that will run into the middle of a POSTED wood and proclaim our love at the top of our lungs with arms wide
We are the ones with broken hearts that cut ourselves with that same shattered mirror from a few lines up alone in a dark and empty room
We are the ones pounding on guitars or banging on drums in some illegal assembly at some overly romantic location
We are the ones that fall in and out of love constantly
We are the ones that scare you because you remember when you were like us and you secretly long for those days to come back again in some quite, desparate nostalgia
But you are set in yr ways and will never live again as we do

We are young
We are alive and proud
We are all strange
And we are all idealists

My friend said this song is good: Patife - Carnival