Hookers or Cake

Ladies and Gentlemen… Mr. Johnny Cash  - for the story click here.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Johnny Cash

When I was a little kid, I thought I could sing just like Johnny Cash. I’d sit at the kitchen table drawing pictures and singing “Ring of Fire.”

And it burns, burns, burns

the ring of fire

the ring of fire

“I sound just like him, don’t I!” I’d say to my older sister. And she’d just laugh at me. I was confused, I was hurt. Why would she laugh at my powers?

Each morning, looking into the bathroom mirror and brushing my teeth, I would stare into my own eyes as I shook violently. In the middle of this shaking I would see a dark stillness, and from there the man in black would step forth and take possession of me like a whispering sonic boom. Inside this warm embrace I would sing

And it burns, burns, burns

the ring of fire

the ring of fire

and the toothpaste foam would seep out of scalp and reach out in thin strands

like static lec’tricity to the walls and ceiling

the paste would wire itself into the grout  

and the fused brightness flashing

would brand itself into my heart

I would sing

Because you’re mine,

I walk the line

like a rabid zombie.

Johnny Cash himself protected my very soul. And my sister was gonna fuck with that?

Ohh but the fire went wild

And they found a piece of her every day for the next eleven hundred years.

From my new book Hookers or Cake II, which people can buy, on the internet! 

I find the old picture

like a forgotten candy bar tucked away in ones boot

only to be remembered in the middle of a munchie fueled, drug

crazed search



It is in quiet moments like this that I meditate on thee

You break out and are upon me

like the warm shhuddering piss of a walrus at a breakfast buffet

I find myself helpless

and in awe of your immense power and grace



The Greek Chorus may taunt me

singing (to the tune of Camptown Ladies) “Johnny Cash didn’t have

a mustache - doo-da - doo-da”

but I simply smile to myself, because I know the truth…



Just because you don’t see a mustache doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

: a tumblr where anybody can post. & my 2 cents

When I was a little kid I thought I could sing just like Johnny Cash. I’d sit at the kitchen table drawing pictures and singing The Ring of Fire.

“And it burns, burns, burns
 the ring of fire,
 the ring of fire”

 ”I sound just like him, don’t I!” I’d smile to my older sister. and she’d just laugh at me… I was confused, I was hurt. Why would see laugh at my powers?

Each morning, looking into the bathroom mirror and brushing my teeth, I would stare into my own eyes as I shook violently. In the middle of the vibrant shaking I would see a dark stillness. And it was from this dark stillness that the man in black would step forth and take possession of me, like a whispering sonic boom. - from this warm embrace I would sing

“And it burns, burns, burns
the ring of fire,
the ring of fire”

and the toothpaste would run out of mind like static lec’tricity
wire itself into the grout
and the fused brightness flashing
would brand itself into my heart

“Because your mine,
     I walk the line,”

I would sing, like a rabid zombie.

The sweet relief in that Johnny Cash himself protected my very soul… and now my sister was gonna fuck with this?!

“Ohh but the fire went wild.”

And they found a piece of her everyday for the next eleven hundred years.

- Hookers or Cake