donate to ya boy

Monday, September 7, 2015

100 milligram's of morphine, 1 milligram of Xanax

two swisher sweets, a nice girl reading comics on my bed

in nothing but spandex

I didn't plan this...shit just happens

I'm thinking of going with lyric to Japan during winter

or maybe just go to the UK by my lonesome

DH encouraged it

pretty much everything that kid thinks is a grand slam.

I'm getting Flex or 50 to mail me some of their imperfect glass

I think I'm about to be homeless again anyway

if that's the case I'll at least need a sturdy piece to take dabs

stay hidden from the camera flash

Its such a splash,everything Ive done...tiny ripple drowned by the sun

I live off of cash...mostly go to the bank to talk to the teller

I never tell her anything Ive done...just flirt like Lewis did

like grandfather //// like son

I tear through the evening with this heaving lungs

I'm just happy I haven't come undone...yet

and that all I receive is in some way a debt

to the universe

to the blood that's been shed

I see the orb in my chest again

as if it tugs me in a predetermined location

I close my eyes and let it bend my will again

my biggest fear is that its so much easier to give in.

I read more burroughs as the mushroom burgers on the grill sizzle & spit

I remember years orlando...feeling like time had split

I think that was the moment it wasnt my choice to give up nor in

that this fire in my belly was lit by billions of the world spins.

1 comment:

  1. Mighty fine times, cash and burgers and the real need - pluslike.