American Heritage

The Velvet Underground reminds me of the Road... The One, stretching and branching and leading... Rough Americana, the sound of bygone blues. I have always had a fascination with the past. Safe as shadows stalk the Earth, indentured in inscription. I believe my hope was left behind long ago, before I was born. Left on some roadside to drink in the dust and seek her fortunes. Those who understand have lived and died. In these bare lands, seething and yearning, in geniuses and shut-ins, in addicts and the wasteful, my Soul has lived and died. The Enlightenment — She has raised her sign of victory and been consumed. Muses! A history of my desire: Some hymns for a godless age sung with the conviction of the fallen. An Emptiness to engulf me and spread my ashes along mystic foreign coasts. A fur coat and leather boots to breathe in sin, a book which speaks its prophet pages to the wind. Martini, Porn stars, Sex-on-the-Beach, Waves beating to erase and release.