she won't feel safe 'til i steal a shotgun
i tell you son
learn how to aim with one eye shut
it's nothing but trigger
from there it's in god's hands
from there it's all physics and trick photography
she needs
safety and shelter and sustenance
then maybe she won't sit so tense
our biographies will be unbelievable
with the sun at our backs
and shells lining the sills
ready to resist
i rock impatiently

Pleas​e enjoy​ our lates​t music​ vdeo!​ This one was shot with a wind-​up Bolex​ film camer​a.​.​.​ Pleas​e let us know what you think​!​

"​Good Luck Rd" by Jerem​iah Clark​

video​ produ​ced by amini​bigci​rcus

featu​ring
Jerem​iah Clark​
Pa Clark​
Julie​ M. Ander​son
Sharo​n Clark​
Melis​sa Webb

http:​/​/​amini​bigci​rcus.​com/​goodl​uckrd​vid.​ html

While​ you are at our site,​ pleas​e enjoy​ our other​ video​ and music​ offer​ings.​

Peace​toYou​andYo​uandY​ou

and Happy​ New Year!​

standing silently, suing for Peace
seeking safe passage away from these sounds of man
below the minimum speed
alcoholic regrets retreat into the tall trees
far from temptations and vending machine cities
devoid of revanchist ambition
we sing of Ante Bellum
as if it was any better

The trees were none too pleased with the matter at hand

Sure the shrubs were game, but they'd go along with anything

The agreement had originally been signed on hemp parchment, so as not to offend

However certain caveats and loopholes made the wise shake in their roots

They were urged to relent, as if treaty might mean something

But all of those spices and death-making devices seemed to have taken their toll

Man-made craters surrounded them, as was the propensity to cut

Most said their goodbyes each and every night, assuming only the worst...

Others stood silently stunned, sickened, and resigned to slow cell death

When the boy chopped down a cherry and became president, the deal was clearly done

Normally children were the kindest, but this place liked to raise them mean

They would tease with pen knives, leaving useless epithets and selfish memories

Some would run by and yell "pulp!!!" just to make fruit drop

And now they had returned to re-negotiate the terms

To move some about to fit their preferred aesthetic

To figure out what other stuff they could make for themselves, and where to burn the bark...

the evil clowns have this way about them

hypnotically waving their limbs and taking up all the eye contact...

constantly taxing the conversation with endless importance

beware their hair

they must never be mussed

i know i want to be right in loving them

those wrong songs just sound so familiar

the trees offer a safe oasis but before long they come a huntin'

riding sad cows and swinging chainsaws...

i saw some in a secret hallway the other day

changing old jokes and telling eachother lies

i crouched and listened with goosebumps

just so happy i was there...

beware deadly underwear and foolish habits
don't hold your hat too tightly
don't bleed so much that you cannot deliver tomorrow
this music makes me wonder why we yell at eachother so much
when
we started saying such serious things
when
silliness is what this situation needs
media matters, medium ladders
and two good candles will show the way out
just yesterday my lower back awoke from an extended slumber
dreaming it was an elephant
elegant inflections and funny faces are a dime a dozen
while presence and honesty are hard to find
easily forgotten
mocked, even, by those who do not care
to climb this mountain of intention and engage
the future can be so exciting when in motion
so dreadful sitting still
when i stretch i feel like Spring

and so goodbye again!

our remember-whens will sit like an oasis in my mind

come next time I will be your muse and soothe that furrowed brow

anyhow I can leap tall buildings because of you

I'll thank you for today and then I'll see you when I see you again

my lifelong friend…

you feed my phoenix

I feel you like family

Carol is stopped at a green light again. She's lost in a familiar thought cycle, one that constantly buzzes in the back of her mind. 'It's not money, we're fine….it's not Greg, he's great…it's not –'
An irritated parp from the compact behind her is all that's needed to get her back into the rhythm. In one motion, Carol flips the left blinker and turns up the volume on the radio. Having just dropped Bradley off at class, she usually lets herself unwind a bit before getting to her job. It's that new band everyone is talking about. Is everyone talking about them or did she just hear someone say that everyone was talking about them? Well, either way it's got kind of a tasty, big mac quality to it.
The merge onto the expressway wasn't smooth this morning. Carol swears that woman who almost ran her into the shoulder was her best friend in high school. Elizabeth? Evelyn? Whatever. If it was her, she'd put on some weight. Life would be better if we had wide-open roads to zoom around on. Nothing but you and the horizon. Like in the car commercials. The commercial for her and Greg's truck was fantastic.
A cacophony of horns erupts behind Carol. She's still sitting at the light as it turns red. Why is her blinker on? She needs to go straight. To her right, that man still paces impatiently, checking the time on his phone every ten seconds or so. He has the same truck as she and greg. It sits next to her in the right turn lane with it's hood open, steaming and spitting. She hopes her and Greg's truck doesn't end up doing that. You certainly don't see that sort of thing in the commercials. In the commercial for her and Greg's truck there are helicopters, and off-road adventures.
"we have this nice new truck… Bradley is doing well in his classes and sports programs…so…..

what's bothering me?"

In the last five hundred daze of the last 'Democratically Elected Administration,' the Leader of the Most Powerful Nation on Earth quietly stepped down, paving the way for a Man-Made Armageddon that made Revelations look like a Less Horrible Option...

It was a Tuesday in September when the casually dressed President declared from his Southern Ranch that he really didn't want to go to work anymore. He had six reasons for staying put, six excuses for his horrible performance as the Country's Chief Executive, and six pardons to dole out before he officially quit and told everyone to go away and leave him alone...

There was a universal 'oh shit' shared across the planet:

first by the acedemics who immediately realized the consequences of the president's resignation, and the threat it was to their posh livelihoods

then by the business people who realized that the game was on and that they gotta choke up and hit this opportunity out of the ballpark

then by the workers who immediately scattered their unions and changed their names

eventually, within the hour, the whole world was muttering and crying, wishing they had never helped as much as they did to humanity's decline

and now they had no choice. there was a New Leader who had the laws, who had the guns, who had the plans

all basic rights were suspended at the inaugural address

the bombs started dropping on or 'Enemies' immediately

everyone was asked to neatly dispose of their reamaing assets in the supplied containers

as the New Leader sat and grinned...