To Travel Is To

She sleeps better in her tour van

than she does in her own bed:

it's the hum of the tires,

you betcha.

Anti-climactic,

but not like us:

goin' out in style

motherfucker.

And giant white crosses

posted up in vacant fields

scare the Jesus out of me.

I've just discovered that

my sunshade can extend

and Paul Giamatti looks like 

the guy who played Latka on 

Taxi.

Passing muzos - 

traveling musicians.

It's just incredible.

It's like the history 

of your life.

Joan Baez - Spring

Carly Simon - Summer

Carole King - Autumn

Joni Mitchell - Winter

That time we listened to

Joni in the middle of July,

recklessly unworried and

unthinking of the future,

and the sun shone full

through Pennsylvania fog

metaphorizing something.

Come in from the cold.

I guess I was at that point

I realized I need a stand-

up bass player with harmony

capabilities

and a snare player with a 

variety of indigenous people's 

drums.

And I love the idea 

of one barren tree,

old and leafless on

the side of a road,

standing strong on

verdant background.

You can't pigeon-hole me 

motherfucker.

My style will be to play

in whatever fucking

style I feel at the moment.

Covers, delicate acoustic work,

reflective Buckleyan electric,

and angry power chords

racing up and down the neck.

All it's about is

all important 

music after

all.

The illusion of New York City is:

You're driving really fast

when you're not.

You're covering distance

when you aren't.

And realities are really

you are driving kinda slow

and not getting very far

to boot.

If my dick had a hand

it would slap you.

Cigarettes and Jack Daniels

at eleven in the morning,

and a jibber, just

to wash it down.

I guess that'll teach us

to take the cigs inside.

Finger yoga:

a collection of poems 

by

Eli Taylor.

You wanna help us score

some silver foxes?

Rape, etc.

That's a helluva 

title for something.

Then,

we shared a perfect 

orange, purple, red and

fire-colored sunset,

followed neatly by a

perfect blue and green

ocean-deep sunset.

And it feels pretty

special seeing the sun's 

final burn and the

subsequent cool down.

Tearfully beautiful.

I forgot we saw the most perfect shade of indigo yesterday.

Now drink

you bastards.

I love you

very much.

Tennessee skies and

mountain air

inspiring radicality

of mind

stand as beacons of

what is possible.

My life is now my own.

No security blanket... well, soon,

and no secret language to master,

and no hidden competitions,

and the honesty is just so

important.

No half-truths.

You have to be done lying.

Being of two minds is entirely

too much work.

Humans do unnatural things,

and mostly to each other...

I made myself sad.

I made myself happy.