Byline: Fugitive Intention

Buford Youthward

Virtue and money are usually disproportionate.

A false character follows a name watching dead souls babbling at the end of a dream.

Shouts of air full of rage and complaint. Sit down kid. Some stories aren't worth recording.

All music is made by businessmen, all graffiti is produced by capitalists.

Faith removes limitations. Remember this when bargaining with life. Technology is lust removed from nature.

The years have come and gone but still we hang on. There are always more pages to fill and gargoyles to slay.

Pablo Diablo finds a cause and boy does he got something worth soldiering on for. There's double fun in doing some dignified thing and getting your bills paid by way of contrived identity.

Judge me by my actions not my update status. Don't treat me like some de facto front person who's more of a front and less of a person.

You open a browser to prowl and get aroused. Look for love in a search engine. An aluminum sphinx, rubber cemented into the material night.

Fugitive intentions set out to measure a man by his disclaimers not his deeds. As soon as it becomes crystal clear, he disappears.

Musical suffocation hits me from the top of mind, at tip of tongue. I'm tied to the tempo, temperament and temperature, caught in a deep sense of narrative sweep.

I'm just seeing how you're feelin'. I know we are defined by our maddest edges. The shadows and 3-Ds we cast.

In the vacuum I violate my virtues and attest that one can be broken and not poor.

Time is the fire in which we burn so we're forced to decide on going for broke or going for the money.

Read more in Byline

Art Crimes Front Page