Misery Mojo and the Minds Less Blown, Illustrated by Lauren Ari
"I'm a wearer of the dark, yeah, yeah, yeah: I have a dark suit."
—Dave Thomas
—Dave Thomas
Despite
the bolt-rattling oscillation
of
our heads, some of us punks were able
to
half-wonder what would become of us
once
the guitar’s itch was scratched. “No Future,”
begs
certain questions in the aftershocks.
Crocus Behemoth blew our minds often,
Crocus Behemoth blew our minds often,
mad
head warbling like a climaxing
teen;
but
better than those sound-scrapes, his bitter
perspective
conveyed diagonally
how
frankly fucking smart we were as punks.
Bands break, though. A car crash stopped D. Boon’s jam.
Bands break, though. A car crash stopped D. Boon’s jam.
Pop
culture punks bit the dust on drugs (yawn)
while
aging bassists coupled and had kids,
went to sew the sutures of middle age…
Crocus
took up the accordion, whined
about his old self, wheezed through his dark art
about his old self, wheezed through his dark art
and
the girlfriends that came and went with it.
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| By the one and only Lauren Ari. And look who's got a new website! |
Draft update as of December 2013:
ReplyDeleteMisery Mojo and the Minds Less Blown
“I’m a wearer of the dark. I have a dark suit.” —Dave Thomas
Despite the bolt-rattling oscillation
of our heads, some of us punks were able
to half-wonder what would become of us
once the guitar’s itch was scratched. “No Future,”
begs certain questions in the aftershocks.
Crocus Behemoth blew our minds often,
mad head warbling like a climaxing teen;
but better than those sound-scrapes, his bitter
perspective conveyed diagonally
how frankly fucking smart we were, we punks.
But bands break. A car crash stopped D. Boon’s jam.
Pop culture punks bit the dust on drugs (yawn)
while aging bassists coupled and had kids,
went to sew the sutures of middle age…
Crocus took up the accordion, whined
on about himself, wheezing through his art
and the girlfriends that came and went with it.