All Distortion, All The Time
By: Derrick Brown

Hopefully, we'll be able to get him to come do a reading this year. This has been in the works for the past 2 years. I've talked to him a few times about coming, it's just a matter of when and where and which department will be able to fund it. I really am going to go all out this year and try to make this happen. I want to see him live before I graduate. I'm such a fan.

Someone plug my lungs back into the guitar amps!

More distortion ladies!

Hear ye. Hear ye.

All distortion, all the time.

More overdrive!

Thank you, Air Roadies.

Aren’t you sick of being appraised wholesale?

Aren’t you sick of sailing on listing ships?

Aren’t you weary from playing cellos with ex-lover’s
bones?

I want the butterfly brigade to grant me a year with no
stomach problems.

I want to affix the word un-blame in the dictionary so I can
screw up your spell check and so I can call him without shaking.

I want a piano that will not warp outdoors when the rain
demands slow dancing.

I want to know how to sashay on a Saturday with a mouth full
of sa-tay… with Latter day Saints.

I want to skew the difference between Tai Chi and Chai
tea,

and end up drinking a tall glass of graceful force.

I want to lick my hands after I touch someone that has just
become razzle dazzled.

I want birds to come close enough to hear them speak Aviation
Spanish.

I want your record collection in my throat,

and my thumb in the electric ass of the all night
jukebox.

I want my shoulder blades mounted in the museum of
knives.

I want church in a bar.

I want to pass out and hear you say Amen.

I want a skeleton night light in the closet.

I want your wow in my now so we become NWOW.

I want the light in your attic to shine down to where the
sidewalk ends.

I want free shit to not cost anything.

I want you to feel like a disco ball of fish hooks

so you can hang on my words and I can spin in your small
miracles of light.

I want my kitchen to be a Brazilian dance floor with a pot of
your sweat in the oven

and a fridge stocked with butt lust.

I want new sheets.

I want your silver muscles cut into a quilt.

Let me sleep under your strength.

I want more pony lamps.

I want to sing this into all tail pipes until I’m
exhausted.

I want to smell everything.

I want to remember that the sky is so gorgeously large,

I feel stranded beneath it.

When I gasp,

I only want to gasp for more.