Wonderful style, hand rolled ciggarettes, Foucalt in his pocket, BsP is coming to a show near you. Ben recently stopped in at some Boston shows including one with the Pilgrims and one with The Images (feat, Pete ala Death Pesos). Read below for wordsmithings of our resident Neal Cassady
Death sales fall short with Pilgrims
It all happens at once,
Nothing ever happens/
Starting to takeover-
Time no longer supports the line
A nasty traverse
Those goddamn modish sympathies/
All the fucking Amphetamine/
Elvis’ pantless performance
Foucault caught Aids in San Fran
Keruack died- was never forgotten as he should have been
It Ain’t pretty and we’ve lived this long
It Ain’t Pretty and it never ever was
It Ain’t Pretty and the Pilgrims can’t do wrong
Like Dylan at Newport they take the ax to expectation
Like Thomas drink is simply a symptom
The Rythym the Rythym the Rythym
The lack there of!
Set your self esteem on auto,
Do what you want to,
It ain’t pretty anyway
Look at the dance,
It’s a fifteen person mob
There is simple individuality
A marxist poem
Joy Division induced seizures
All of them, there ever was-
Rolling butts for boys with hair,
Teaching teachers lessons
The cinnema aught not
The apocalypse, that would be something.
Something beyond a scope of reason and
Intelligence has trained me to deal
30 data from know.
30 days from right now
The size/scope if apocalypse? In terra bytes.
It wouldn’t be a hard drive.
Why so sad? The Pilgrims asked the lad.
Mom she was in bed
Attacking my dad!
Rehab behemoth- play me a story,
Put something on tv, I miss my wife
Make it gory-
You seem to think James Dean was an authority!?
An author no less than of
Set in chills
Blacks with bobs
Wiggin’ out in all their hereditary glory!
It ain’t pretty,
It never was
It ain’t pretty concluded the story
It ain’t pretty,
2: Amphetamine Stone: Insecure 114
Yeah says adderal child to the
So much leather in the land of the vegan
Is the party over or is it just for health?
The lack of selfless amphetamine consumption
In the poly gen, ultimatums-
It’s all stepping on ties,
On an unearned trail of entitlement lost 120 years ago,
Self indulgent white girls,
Ego bashing white boys
what show your insurance card,
Kick ass it’s yours,
If he don’t become dead,
We will lose this white settlement
Too much heroin for this white moby,
Not enough of a crystal to get him going
The silken pubed irony,
The sappy shit calling himself Buggs bunny.
A trial of 10 month relationship
Sounds of gagging ’cause it’s not funny
Lyrics of carrying hand guns self inflicted wounds
No longer any woman for him to call honey
Bloody and arrogant those sniffling eyes scared to move
They shut up for a whole,
Set up for some better tunes.
The ceiling collapsed the universe has jammed through
Reflections of the bass are clear
The snare rattles the covers clean
Blues Traveller sets the scene.
Now what the fuck is this?
The kid from the Phoenix is out?
If this be’s a show for him?
For music ain’t any hope!
And yet a cloud burst,
That black rain does fall,
Pessimism as the ground spins,
The stars making rainbows
In the runoff of mascara.
Bad facial hair
Old spice cologne
Pete Frampton perfume
Dream’n on 1976 prom.
Dear god I need a whiskey,
For I’m the only one who moves
These kids pumped up with amphetamine wish they stayed at home
No dime, no drink, lost hope
Lame hype, at least they are older
The kids with ampdstiffed bones.
3: Can’t Shit with you standing there
It’s so tight, dem brown shoes,
Turn’n sphynx to silkworm
I’ve godose lack of fiber blues
Still smoking over creamy watered down coffee,
The Bowery dissentery just makes me squirm
Sorry not today for an exit only screw
Got ah sneak a snake through
Low riding jeans, for plumbin sake
Still got that lack of oxygen
From pushin’ and gruntin’ till my face turned blue
4: royalty exiled: save face
Nearly empty an hour til Tuesday,
Something free at a ZuZu frontier through middle
East, a block owned corner of cambridge,
No college no parties in Middle East now
Andrew got fired- W.K. Shock rock Doc
Then leaving decidededly returning quickly
Pulled by that rhythemless distortion
As Sartre exiled to the fringes of existentialism propelled deeper into
Again Sartre claims it was Marx that conceived the ideology,
As I in the throws of Cambridge concieved the dance
You’d think after a Pulp Fiction,
The Mods, and you know music
There’d be a dancing, the first f in our play- the only
F in ucking but no just this one girl.
That Buddha bellied zebra-
Sexxed the shit out of the room-
That second set, always a best bet
Nigh, a noise a beat, distorted slim.
But now the sexed slut opens her womb
Shakes her hips.
Lets her lungs go- the stones stand stiff
Led by my crotch
The incandescence of trodden sequin
Her on her knees, can’t bee caught
Ne’er by the camera nor the half full beer can
Shot through full of ampules; of sound Amplified
Her screech was for more; sex personified
I buttoned my cardigan, and put on my jacket fearing hello
Booked towards the door and nearly cried, died and forgot my new bowler.
5: Seasonal Haiku Autumn
Crossing the river
He busted out the window
Fall came to an end
6: 21′st gen blue
It is so clear, where do we go though
A culture of complacency, all commerce centered on sex
Corruption defined, lust life
Lust for life, tailoring of a terribly
Outmoded model, poly-
Then a new gender,
So many new genre since graduation day.
Too navigate the world,
I made a terrible plan-
Based on tradition
And look where I am?
7: le sam
It started in deep depression.alone
Starting to bee seen- noticed by animals
Trusting Laying down I am safe.
Entering, a world, a simple door,
The homeless. A comfort, a rich child,
A baby 4, or 6 whatever a little myazaki doll hands me money
Thank you, hero.
What little lady, you goof
A hundred dollar bill
I am not a soldier, the jacket a fraud
Take your money- save your money
I must give you something, to see how it is used.
A simple dollar
A deaf woman a terrible communication. Piles of hundreds beside here. An 19th century doctors bag overflowing with foreign monies.
Hospital, hotel, hospital
8: lost chains- an ode to the west
I’ve looked for you everywhere
All ive found is the same Asian
With flat shoulder length hair
Eyes so black, in pretty clothes
Or shirking insecure athletic wear